Blogs
Recently I switched from antipsychoticX (aX) to antipsychoticY (aY). I despise changing medications; however, this change was necessary due to the general lack of success of the previous cocktail.
And in spite of the fact that given the tiny doses there shouldn’t have been any dramatic effects from this change, naturally, there were. A medication change is pretty much always pain on a stick (that hits you, a lot).
In sobriety, we learn many lessons and these lessons can be applied to all areas of life. These are ten of the lessons I have learned from addiction sobriety.
It's been a while since I have told the world about my diagnosis with depression, in fact, the process has been going on for about 15-20 years. But sharing my diagnosis takes on a whole new meaning when I blog about it and speak out about it publicly, outside of my family and friends. While it may be something that feels "normal" to me, it might not always be the most comfortable thing to do for you or your loved one.
It is that time of the season. Many individuals and families are putting their vacation plans together. For some, a vacation consists of running around at full speed with major anxiety and stress. Others may prefer to try a new activity, such as zip-line or scuba diving. Many with bipolar disorder and myself included, prefer the relaxed, slower than normal pace (warm climates help in the slowing down process). Doing the vacation thing with the least amount of anxiety or stress as possible with bipolar disorder does take a little advance planning (When Bipolar Ruins Your Vacation).
One possible symptom of borderline personality disorder (BPD) is substance abuse. When a person has a substance abuse disorder and a psychiatric disorder, they have a dual diagnosis. While help exists for people with mental illness and for people with substance abuse problems, getting help for a dual diagnosis is a lonely, uphill battle. Simply put, neither psychiatric facilities nor rehabilitation facilities have the desire nore ability to treat us.
I have a big speech to give in two days. Fellowship Place in New Haven, CT, whose mission is to “help adults with mental illness lead more meaningful, fulfilling and healthy lives by offering resources, education, and opportunities,” has asked me to be their keynote speaker for their Eighth Annual Dr. Albert Solnit Memorial Lecture.
This is not so much a fundraiser as it is an awareness-raiser, and I want to do justice to that purpose as I prepare my part of the evening, an hour-long “Conversation with the Author of Ben Behind His Voices.”
My problem: how to tell our family’s story, and Ben’s story through our eyes, in a way that will raise awareness? And while I blog often about our current issues as Ben struggles through recovery, for this presentation I need to go back to the early years of his illness to set the stage for the conversation.
The loss of a child is something no one ever imagines experiencing themselves, especially not to suicide. Our guest, Barb Mares, knows first had that it can happen to anyone because it happened to her, not once, but twice. About 8 years ago, Barb lost two of her sons, within a seventh month period of time, to suicide. It's a horror none of us can fathom, but she is coping with her losses and making good from them.
There’s a space of six weeks between my last two posts here at Dissociative Living. Some of that month and a half disappearance has to do with the fact that I’d been trying to do too much for the better part of a year and I reached a kind of critical mass that left me depleted and in desperate need of rest. And some of it has to do with the nature of Dissociative Identity Disorder itself. It’s natural, within the context of DID, to compartmentalize one’s life to such a degree that the various arenas in which we live – work, school, friends, etc. – are separate worlds altogether. And when one or more of those worlds collide, as they inevitably do from time to time, the resulting anxiety triggers a full retreat from one or all of the affected worlds. But I’ve discovered that there’s more to these disappearances than I believed.
People with mental illness have various levels of functioning. Sometimes a good day is when you talk in your group therapy session at the psych ward. Sometimes a good day is getting out of bed. Sometimes a good day is going to the doctor. And sometimes a good day is giving successful presentation to a bunch of executives.
It varies from person to person.
And while anyone can tell you to “take your meds,” that doesn’t really tell you how to get from non-functional to functional. It’s true no one has the exact answer, 33 high-functioning people with bipolar disorder identified six things that keep them moving forward.
Happy is what brings healthy, and viceversa, so it can't be that much of a surprise anxiety and depression have had some pretty rough consequences on my health; High blood pressure at 25, on-and-off flings with anemia, near-constant sleep deprivation.
I may as well have an imp bouncing up and down on my kidneys whilst someone tells my nervous system to pump out all the stress hormones its got, so I can feel normal, or at least prepared. Like a Girl Scout on crack. That's PTSD hypervigilance for you.
It's also that sometimes our bodies express what we are otherwise unwilling, or unable to say.
I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."
THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.
Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.
The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).
To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
Thanks!