Mental Health Care In Crisis Blog

Actor Crush of the Day: Liam Neeson (Still on my Jedi kick!)

Okay, I just stumbled on THIS blog. Click the title of this post to go there. (Too bad it seems he hasn't posted since March 2005; seems like he started it up, and then fell off with it; I hope he returns! I just checked; he has some other blogs which are current.)

Holy crap, I had no idea doctors received year-end bonuses from HMO's or the like for keeping costs down.

Conflict of interest, INDEED. When will doctors take back control of health care? I think it will take doctors and patients working together to influence legislation and other things, and a whole LOTTA work and patience and probably money, and maybe some well-conceived lawsuits that will bring to the forefront of the media's attention (hopefully?) various issues related to the whole MESS.

From his previous post, I quote the following:

In early October, the Illinois Supreme Court ruled that a patient could sue an HMO. "Where an HMO effectively controls a physician's exercise of medical judgment and that judgment is exercised negligently, the HMO cannot be allowed to claim that the physician is solely responsible for the harm that results," the court ruled.

I guess I quote him quoting the Illinois Supreme Court, lol. But Hurrah! It seems to me that for YEARS legislation and court decisions (which, in many cases, effectively legislate from the bench) have PROTECTED HMO's. I am heartened to see at least some things starting to go the other way, but we have to keep this up!

I quote from his blog again:

"HMO accountability is essential," because the organization is a for-profit venture, the court ruled. The court said that HMOs act as health-care providers and not just as insurers since their rules on coverage affect doctors' decisions.

EXACTLY. Yippeeee! In your eye, HMO's! Too bad this was just a state court, and not the federal Supreme Court over the whole nation. Still, I hope this is a good start to some much-needed change.

Maybe the HMO's will actually decide it will SAVE them money to actually ALLOW doctors to practice medicine. That just sounds so wrong, HMO's "allowing" doctors, or "disallowing" them to do or not do things? Who went to med school, peeps? Yeah, HMO's have medical people, doctors even, on board, but their salaries are dependent on the HMO doing well, which means restricting the physician's abilities to do their job. Seems like yet another conflict of interest . . . what about the Hippocratic Oath?

Hypocritic Oath? Lol. I'm sure THAT joke has been run into the ground. But it runs through MY mind, just the same.

And I quote again:

In a case that could change the face of HMOs, the U.S. Supreme Court has agreed
to determine whether an Illinois HMO breached a legal duty to a patient whose
appendix burst during an eight-day wait for a test to diagnose her abdominal
pain.

I'll be keeping a sharp eye on THAT one.

Apparently many of these he quotes are from the November/December, 1999 (vol. 8, no. 6) of The National Psychologist.

I'll be keeping up with his blog, too, as I obviously am very interested, and very impacted, by all this.

New Year's at the Zoo and Other Stuff

Actor Crush of the Day: Ben Affleck (Pearl Harbor, I just love a man in uniform)

I'm considering taking us up to the zoo on Monday. Hub will have the day off, as will Emily. I'm curious to see if the polar bears like it any better in the winter, than they do in the summer!

Of course, it'll be COLD! But what the hey. Hopefully this "milder" winter weather will hang in there. I love having this zoo pass, knowing we can go whenever circumstance has the Ems and the Hub off at the same time. Thanks again, YOU!

We can always take refuge in the reptile house. Whee!

I had a really, really good ologist session today. Too bad I didn't have a tape. I highly recommend him to anyone, even if you aren't ill like me, say just for working through some difficult event in your life, getting over it and such. He is a GREAT pyschologist. Very soothing, laid back, mild, calming, accepting, understanding, and patient. And very capable.

On a different note, I've lent from the library a movie called "My Neighbor Totoro", which is an anime (but not Yu-Gi-Oh-like, or that, it isn't over-exaggerated like that) by the master of the art in Japan, Miyazaki. Miyakawa? Miyazakawi? Crap! I can't remember his name right.

The story has alot of heart, and I love seeing it set in the Japanese countryside, with the rice paddies and the differences from their culture to ours. And stuff.

I was pleased with it, except for a scene where the girls are bathing with their father. I guess that may be normal over there, but it is not, here. So I'll fast-forward through that for Emily.

I look forward to checking out some more, although the few the library system here has were all checked out, except this one.

Gorgeous animation (well, I thought the dad's hair was too floofy/anime-ish, and perhaps the girls's eyes were also, and the neighbor boy, EESH. Especially his cartoonish hair or lack thereof. Yeah, I know it's animation, but still.

I loved how this movie showed the wonder and fun of being a child, and exploring, and such.

I'll finish up my never-posted Thanksgiving post, and write up Christmas, sometime soon. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Back to go rest. I'm high as a kite and beaten down pessimistic at the same time. MIXED state, UGHHHh.

Bye!

Hey! Where's My Shoelaces?

Actor Crush of the Day: Ewan McGregor & Liam Neeson (I just love British Jedi!)

An analogy that has been useful for me lately, is one involving everyone being issued with a pair of "shoes" as they are sent down to Earth, to live, from heaven. Not everyone gets shoes that fit as well as others; not everyone gets the color or style they'd like; not everyone gets a shoe suited to the functions that are needed.

And, not everyone receives shoelaces.

I posit that, with my mental illnesses, I was issued shoes, but no shoelaces. I have repeatedly stumbled and fallen, my whole life through. I didn't even know what I was missing, although the inevitability of falling, and the repetitive nature of it, seemed to indicate that I was missing SOMETHING, as I grew older and wondered. No matter how hard I tried, one shoe, or both, in the most difficult times, would fly off and I'd fall on my face, with varying degrees of trauma depending on the situation.

And sometimes, it would be quite awhile before I even could, or would, get up again.

Sometimes, I'd just crawl.

Sometimes, I'd just lay there and sob.

I've hated those shoes, and hated the "unfairness" of it. Why do others get to race on past me, while I must repeatedly eat dirt, over and over again? And be expected to WANT to get up, even though I am running with faulty shoes; with some essential component missing, which I couldn't compensate for even if I knew what I was missing?

But, a year ago, I learned after many, many, many years, that I may be bipolar. And have a variety of anxiety disorders. As the year wore on, the rapid cycling nature of the bipolar became defined, and the possibility of OCD became painfully clear as I began to discuss things with the psychologist that I always thought were "just ME". For my whole life, I thought all this stuff, all this inability to "fit" with coping, being capable, in society, in the world, among people, and even alone, was a fundamental and serious flaw with my ME-NESS, my ME-hood. I thought I, MYSELF was the flaw; that I, MYSELF, was the "thing" that was not suited for this world, for interacting with people, for BEING. I had no framework for even conceptualizing that it could be something other than maybe some depression (which is serious, by itself, but . . .)

So. This year, I have learned that there is such a thing as shoelaces . . . . this September, after beginning the Neurontin (mood stabilizer), I believe that I have been able to grab ahold of these laces. Through therapy, I will learn what they are for (well, everyone knows what shoelaces are for, but in the analogy, I never even knew what was missing; I have to learn what they are for, analogically speaking). As time, therapy, medication, and my whole treatment continues, with hard work on my part, I will slowly start to thread these laces into my shoes.

I have already begun to try to walk and run, still, and I stumble, still. Even with perfectly laced shoes, everyone stumbles. Still, as I begin to see some faint, faint but powerful glimmers of possibility and hope, I can't help but test what I learn, even if I am not yet ready. And so, I still fall.

BUT, though I am scraped, bloodied, and bruised, I am, ever so slowly, learning. Ever so slowly, bit by bit. Some days, weeks, months, better than others, and sometimes just holding ground itself is progress of a sort, and sometimes I have bad times. But I am learning, now, that there ARE laces, that there is a use for them, what that use is, and that I have been missing SO MUCH. And that I can learn, and be, and BECOME.

Eventually, my shoes will be all laced up, and I will haltingly, and/or recklessly, test my step, and then my stride. People who learn to re-use their muscles after serious injury or prolonged convalescence, must re-learn in a similar way to what I am trying to describe, here. There may be some collapse of nerve, or strength, or collapse under duress and pain. I will, after regaining strength, get up again and proceed to test, discover, and learn how a laced-up pair of shoes will increase my capabilities and self-hood.

There will be mistakes, stumbles, hurt, and frustration. But I will learn to walk. I will learn to skip, jump, and hop.

I will RUN.

Bipolar Information

This matches with information I see at many medical sites, but I believe this to be a very informative and less technical description than some sites. Click Post title to go to the source of this information.

Bipolar Disease - Symptoms and Diagnosis

A person suffering from bipolar disorder (also called manic depression) experiences extreme moods that alternate between a high or "manic" phase and a low or "depressive" phase.

People with mild cases are often undiagnosed until their disorder progresses to more severe or life threatening symptoms (e.g. suicidal depression, or manic delusions).

Signs and Symptoms

In order for a person suffering from bipolar disease to receive proper diagnosis and treatment, the various mood states must be recognized.

Signs and symptoms of MANIA can include:

1) Denial - A manic high usually feels good and for this reason those in a manic or hypo-manic state will almost always deny that anything is wrong with them. They simply feel too good to believe anything is wrong.


2) Mild Mania (Hypomania)

Inflated self-esteem
Increased sexual drive
Reduced need for sleep
"High" feelings (bordering on euphoria)
Provocative or mildly aggressive behavior
Increased energy, activity, and talkativeness


3) Mania

Increased drive, energy and restlessness (sometimes accompanied by delusions and/or paranoia)
Abuse of drugs (particularly alcohol, cocaine, and sleeping medications)
Uncharacteristically poor judgment and impulsiveness
Extreme irritability, distractibility and impatience
Excessively 'high' or euphoric feelings (unusually happy and/or optimistic)
Sexual drive that may lead to promiscuity
Talking rapidly, more loudly (person may hog the conversation)
Intrusive, or aggressive behavior
Inflated self confidence (all-knowing, may be arrogant)
Overly-inflated self-esteem
Dangerous risk-taking
Inability to sleep (sometimes for days)
Obsessive thoughts
Racing thoughts
Hallucinations
Life of the party


Signs and symptoms of DEPRESSION can include:

1) Depression

Anxiety
Poor memory
Self condemnation
Inability to function
Inability to concentrate
Physical health problems
Restlessness or irritability
Sleep problems (sleeps too much or too little)
Feeling worthless, or helpless
Disorganized (procrastinates more than usual)
Extreme emotional pain (cries easily, feels totally alone)
Sense of failure and extreme guilt
Difficulties sleeping, or oversleeping
Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism
Paranoia and pessimism about everything
Persistent sadness (feeling emotionally empty or dead inside)
Withdrawal from friends and social contacts
Changes in appetite and weight
Extremely fatigued (no energy, feels "washed out" or extremely tired)
Repeated thoughts of death or suicide; suicide attempts
Difficulty concentrating (hard to think straight, remember, and/or make decisions)
Lack of motivation (loss of interest or pleasure in previously enjoyable activities)


2) Psychosis

While psychosis is more common during the manic phase of bipolar disease, it may also be present during severe depression. Psychotic symptoms include:

Delusions (false and illogical beliefs--e.g., believing you have super human powers)
Paranoia (irrational belief that one's life is in jeopardy--e.g., the Mafia is out to kill you)
Hallucinations (hearing, seeing, or sensing things that aren't real--e.g., Seeing and talking to people who aren't there)


3) Mixed State

Symptoms of "both" mania and depression may be present at the same time: a depressed mood accompanied by manic energy. This is known as a "mixed state".

The symptoms of a bipolar mixed state may include:

Paranoia
Agitation
Psychosis
Suicidal thinking
Difficulty sleeping
Significant change in appetite

The symptoms of any bipolar episode (mania, depression, or mixed state) are usually limited to distinct, time-limited periods of illness. These episodes are separated by periods when the person has few or no symptoms.

Episodes vary from person to person. They generally occur in cycles, some lasting as long as a year, (rarely episodes have been known to last years), some may last only minutes. Over time, episodes have been known to become more and more frequent. Whenever a person experiences four or more episodes within a 12-month period, that person is said to have "rapid cycling" manic-depressive illness (bipolar disorder).

Most people with bipolar disease will experience approximately 8-10 episodes over their entire lifetime. However, it should be noted that many patients experience a great deal more. Those with rapid-cycling bipolar disorder, often experience a lifetime's worth of episodes during the course of a single month or week.

I had a GREAT iatrist session today!

Actor Crush of the Day: More Matthew Fox

I brought up some issues with him. And it went well. He was, as usual, his VERY direct self. But he apologized, at least, in his own way, for what I felt was ridicule and belittling of my relating to him during our last phone conversation in early November, some side effects I was experiencing. Doctors are people too, and they have bad days, and get irritable, just like anyone else. That is kind of what I figured had happened, lately, although I was hurt for a long time by it.

I thought it was very . . . good of him to admit that he got that way. So I have newfound respect for him; he isn't quite as arrogant as I had thought, if he could discuss the things with me that we discussed today.

So. I'm still here and kickin'. I kind of mentally girded myself up, and put on my mental boxing gloves for today's appointment, and am glad that it went well.

YIPPPEEEEEEE. One less thing to worry about.

Now, back to my regularly scheduled melancholy. Same bat time, same batty channel.

Well DUH, Mommy!

Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox

Yesterday in church, I was reminding and insisting that Emily fold her arms. Later in the meeting, when I had to remind her yet again, she insisted, "I AM!". And I said, "No you're not!". She again insisted, "I am . . . . . behind my back!"

I had to smother a chuckle and look stern as I more specifically requested that she do so in front of her back.

I had a bit of a giggle about it. She's a little wiseacre!

How Fighting Satan is Like Putting On A Pair of Control-Top Pantyhose

Actor Crush of the Day: John Schneider

Well, they're both difficult sons of @#&*(%^. If you're a man, you'll just have to trust me on this.

Let's see. You start off, all determined to resist temptation, and defeat the adversary in fell swoop. You start off with the toes, and easily slide the deceptive pantyhose over your heels, thinking, "This isn't so bad, nothing to it!".

You then start to have some difficulty, but with prayer and effort, you make a bit of progress. And resist the temptations of sin.

Woops! Looks like we spoke too early; got a little run there, in our pantyhose. No problem; whip out the handy dandy clear nailpolish, and you're good to go. You may have stumbled; but you repent, and set your grip again for the fight ahead.

You find that you've lost a bit of ground, and have to start from the ankles again. Kinda frustrating, but that's how it goes. You slowly inch the hose upwards, gritting your teeth and mumbling fake curses under your breath, as all your muscles, spiritual or otherwise, are called into play.

Your arms are trembling now from the strain, as the terrible struggle threatens to yank those pantyhose right out of your grip and send you head over heels to the floor. You grunt with the effort of just holding your ground, let alone making any progress, and despair of winning the battle.

Suddenly, you have assistance. Your prayers have been answered; your husband hears the funny sounds issuing forth from the dressing area and hearkens to your call for aid.

You brace yourself against any handy semi-sturdy piece of furniture at hand, those things from lessons past in Church, and knowledge from the scriptures that you have gained over the years. Your husband braces himself and pulls where you tell him to; your lungs heaving mightily with the effort, trembling with sheer exhaustion from the strain of the battle, you, together, begin to make progress once more.

The home stretch is in sight, but this proves the hardest battleground of all. You and your spouse no longer speak, as you are locked in battle with the terrible pullings of the adversary, and all his efforts to knock you off balance and lower your spirituality. Or pantyhose, as the case may be. Er, that sounds bad . . . lol!

Anyway, together, you wrestle with sin and temptation; locked in battle, sweat dripping from your brow, your spouse working in unison with you to overcome the strength of the world. As you both begin to feel as though the struggle will never end; that the pantyhose will just never succumb to the combined efforts and coordination of you and your spouse, suddenly, the battle is over.

Oh happy day! The sweet, sweet release of eternal rest. The ceasing of struggle and strife; the glory of knowing that soon, you will be at church to worship your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ; the peace of just BEING, is felt within your souls, and the joy of overcoming temptation and sin, and the humility you feel at the assistance you received from on high; your prayers were answered, forgiveness was given, and assistance was provided in the struggles just overcome.

Amen to that, and just so you know, I am NEVER going to attempt control-top pantyhose again. I have learned my lesson . . . . teehee! Yes, this allegory is based on an actual event****; I also believe the Lord has a sense of humor, and won't be offended at my relation of my hosiery struggles, with the struggle with sin and temptation. Hee!

****Names were changed in the above allegory to protect the innocent; also, my lawyers insist that I declare that there is nothing sinful about pantyhose, in and of themselves. But on the other hand, whatever MAN invented them, especially the control-top version . . . well, may the Lord have mercy on his soul . . . wait, my lawyers inform me that placing my hands around someone's throat and squeezing, is not a good idea . . . . hee hee hee! Just kidding y'all.

The Man And The Birds

Actor Crush of the Day: Gregory Peck

Here is a Christmas story that I read about 10-12 years ago, that really moved me inside. It just . . . . speaks to me; it fills my soul with peace and love. That may sound corny, but I like corn. It is just . . . . a spiritually profound, meaningful joyous moment of revelation, at the end of the story. I cannot help but read this story over and over (no, not in an OCD-repetitive way, lol!), for the pure beauty and depth of feeling that fills my soul. I have seen no author attributed to this story, so I feel I can post it here.

The Man and the Birds

Now the man to whom I'm going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn't believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn't make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn't swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. "I'm truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, "but I'm not going with you to church this Christmas Eve." He said he'd feel like a hypocrite. That he'd much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.

Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow.

He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn. And then, he realized, that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them.

But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. "If only I could be a bird," he thought to himself, "and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safety ... to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand."

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells - Adeste Fidelis - listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.

-- Author Unknown --

They keep cutting funding for mental health . . . .

Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan

Click post title for mental health policy news.

I am SO sick of this! Yeah, I understand the need to balance the budget. But cut, after cut, after cut.

You know, most people assume that a financially needy mentally ill person, can utilize local, state, and national programs to help them get treatment.

Well, I'm a year and a half into my Social Security Disability claim.

Medicaid funding, especially the mental health portions, keep getting cut.

I remember, in 1996, accessing some mental health care at the local Davis Mental Health clinic near Lakeview Hospital in Bountiful, Utah. They had a sliding fee scale, and depending on income, your payment could get lower and lower. Davis being the county in Utah I lived in at the time.

Two years ago, when seeking treatment and resources, I called for an over-the-phone assessment from a psychologist at this clinic, which I received, but he let me know, that unless my payment/funding for services came from certain sources, they would not be able to treat me. I was confused . . . . he wouldn't, or couldn't, put it in any more specific terms than that.

I took that to mean Medicaid and/or Medicare, or something. And/Or health insurance, but maybe not even that.

So this sort of public mental health care, where you can pay say a sliding fee or something, doesn't exist any more; at least, not HERE. And, I daresay, not a many more other places, either. As funding as been cut in drastic amounts in the last decade.

There is going to be, there IS, a mental health care crisis. Yes, there's a crisis in all areas of health care, but people seem to forget this aspect. It's as though the public, blissfully unaware, just doesn't know that there is becoming no hope, for the mentally ill. Congress, seems to maybe in their minds think there'll be some other way people like me can get treated? Or somehow be fine without it? Don't they realize, that the costs to society will most likely be LESS, to help us, than for many like me to end up in emergency rooms around the country, where bills will most likely end up going uncollected because the people just HAVE NO MONEY to pay, and that raises costs elsewhere, of course; that the costs to society of having so many people limited or not able to function capably out among society, out among the workforce, will add up to more in the long run.

Most people, I'm guessing, probably see this as a distant issue; unless they themselves know someone with a mental illness, they don't really seem to feel much cause for concern. Or such would be my perception, of those in the general populace who even know about these funding cuts.

The sad thing is, most probably don't. Much of it seems to be happening under the radar.

I said general populace, and they, us, them, whatever, but you know what? I'm general populace too. I am they, them, us, you. Your sister, brother, uncle, cousin, niece. Your friend down the block, or your co-worker two cubicles down. Robin Williams, Jane Pauley. Not that the latter two need assistance.

I want to learn more about this issue, and about advocating for stopping the cuts, or mitigating their impact, or changing the cuts to less harmful/less drastic measures. And, where needed, advocate for increased funding and awareness.

I encourage everyone to inform themselves. As well, I will post on this blog from time to time regarding what I learn. I will also actively write to my Congressmen and Senators, as soon as I know what to say. Please, everyone, think about this issue and write to your Congressmen and Senators as well, if you will. You can pretty much email most or all of them, online.

Heck, if someone like me can get a phone call back from Congressman Rob Bishop, regarding an email I sent his office, than anyone can be heard. I have a funny story about that phone call, which I'll relate sometime soon.

A Bit Manic, Today

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Jackman.

Which has allowed me to actually do some useful things.

Still, I am aware of the pitfalls, which are many. I'm trying not to feel guilty, though, for enjoying the bubbling enthusiasm I feel.

At the moment, I feel like I could climb any mountain set in my path. Except maybe the one of being "over" this illness. That just doesn't happen, but we are working towards a degree of mental health that will hopefully be beyond just being somewhat functional.

This Arctic Cold that has settled in Utah is just . . . . freezing my soul, it feels like! It feels as though it is freeze-drying my heart down to Grinch-ey proportions.

It's not easy being Green.

Tee Hee!

Dag-Nabbit! Now that Whoville song is in my head, and I'll be OCD-repeating it all night. Which is worse than the usual something-gets-stuck-in-your-head, thing.

Da-voo door-ay, Da-voo door-ay, welcome, welcome Christmas Day . . . . . .

EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Well, the giddy silliness that often rides along with the mania is in full force, as you can see.

A bit of green fur, to ward off the cold, would be welcome about now.

Shiver my timbers, I'm cold!!!!!

Time to stuff the towel under the front door. That draft is killer.

As you can see, my thoughts are leaping around from thing to thing, in a disjointed manner. That is part and parcel, as well.

Parcel! That makes me wish for a load O'Christmas presents in the mail. Even though there'd be no reason to think there'd be any! Man, my mania is just running away with me.

I feel, and hope, that my kind of "free-associating" typing whatever is coming to me, right now, kind of shows you a little bit of how the mania feels and jerks me around.

Now I have an image of being tethered to the end of a rope, and being swung around in a wide circle on the ice, sliding around and around. Wheeee!

Mebbe I'd better stop, before I embarass myself further.

I wonder if the Grinch is the Hulk's unwanted love child? (My brain used the "bastard" word . . . just so's you know how my brain works, in this state. Utah. Lol.)

Small Miracles

Actor Crush of the Day: Liam Neeson (He sounds good as a Lion, doesn't he?

Thank goodness for small miracles. Like dissassembled cardboard boxes.

I am picturing the ? above each of your heads right now. Lol.

Okay, so you all know I panic easily.

Well, I was in the kitchen, doing some things, when I knocked a plate off the dishwasher and it shattered all over the floor! I was in my barefeet, and the broom was at the other end of the kitchen. And I was too far from the living room to reach it.

I was cornered!

At first I thought, well, there's got to be some way out of this. But then, I realized, the only way I could see was to walk out through the multitude of shards and slivers of white-and-ivy Corningware glass strewn about the floor.

That idea did not appeal to me.

Panic rising, I cast about for some other solution. There was no way I could reach the broom, to sweep myself a path.

I was about to start treading through the floor of glass, when my eyes laid to rest upon a flattened box partially slid behind the tall baker's rack-style microwave "cart" (not really a cart, but what else do you call it?)

Salvation! I leaned way over, because I was at about the limit of my reach from it, and plucked my saving grace from its ignomious resting place. I unfurled the cardboard "miracle" in front of me like a red carpet rolling forth in front of the highest of society; I cautiously placed my feet upon the path, and was able to thus reach the broom.

I still could not reach the living room, but I now proceeded to sweep every part of the kitchen except that beneath my path; I could JUST reach the farthest corners! I swept everything over into a pile beside the garbage, and then gingerly began to fold up a section of the path at a time, sweeping each space clear before proceeding to the next.

I finally folded up the box and set it aside, grateful for the miracle it had been. Silly though that may sound, how would YOU have gotten out of a glass-strewn kitchen, barefoot, with no tables or counters or anything to crawl upon to save your feet from diaster?

My "Peanuts" Childhood

Actor Crush of the Day: Snoopy. Cause it was a dark and stormy night . . . .
I was reflecting on the very little to none I remember of my childhood under the age of 7 or 8 or so. And you know what I realized? The adults only existed from the lower chest down. They were incomprehensible, and really were only background noise in the remembrances in my head. To the point where they are practically non-existant. I don't remember how my parents looked, at all. I don't remember ever SEEING their faces, although of course I must have.

I actually only remember, from the house in California, the wood in the hallway, the screen in my room I'd push out to go play in the backyard when I'd been sent to my room, and the swinging glass-paned kitchen door that was removed after one day when I chased my little brother around and around, each time entering the kitchen through this door with a stiff arm to a glass pane. On one go-round, a pane gave way and I looked down with 3 year old curiosity (and I'm sure horror, but by now it's all a silent movie in my head, and not a very clear one at that), at the piece of meat/me lying on the ground, and the GAPING hole in my wrist. I believe I screamed. Anyway, even in this my mother is just a lap in my memory. No face or anything.

Anyhoo, I realized, HEY, this is just like PEANUTS! Where all the adults speak some incomprehensible honking gibberish, and are really just background, when they are there at all, for the lives of the kids, anyway. So I thought it was funny that my childhood plays out like a Peanuts video. The few bits and pieces I can remember, anyway. Er . . . . that sounds kinda gross, considering I left off about seeing a bit and piece of ME on the floor. Lol!

Today's Therapy - If I was an Orange, I'd be Orange Juice about now.

Actor Crush of the Day:Tom Welling

Today's appointment got off to an awkward start . . . . Lots of "ums", and silence. I finally spit it out, though. After a bit of interchange, and some more silence, and starting to freak out in a panic attack, then came the Question. If anyone outside the office had heard it, you wouldn't even think it that odd or deep, even for two friends discussing the subject. But in the context of therapy, and the relationship between him and I (nothing inappropriate, just the unique depth of interaction that is inherent in the therapeutic relationship), and the absolute horror I felt inside at this question, something New in my psychological experience occurred.

I felt a tightening, in my chest. As though a purse-string was being tightened up. And I shifted around a bit, and breathed, although I couldn't expand my lungs fully due to the tightening. It rapidly progressed to a hard squeezing. Everything was squeezing so hard inside my upper torso; it was getting tighter, and more and more difficult to breathe. The squeezing restricted, further and further, my ability to draw a breath. I expressed my difficulties to the ologist; he could see I was enduring something, and I, in short bursts as I was rather . . . in distress by this time, let him know what was going on. It became extremely uncomfortable, in a painful way, but the pain is difficult to describe. And of course further panic at not feeling able to breathe didn't help any, either . . . . I shifted my lower body forward on the couch, and sunk my upper body lower down into the couch, and tilted my head back, in an effort to mitigate the restriction on my lungs. And of course there was alot of grimacing and a few gutteral noises of effort in relation to the squeezing and breathing difficulties. All this happening within the space of, say, 30 seconds or so, from the first tightening.

My ologist then said, in about the most safe, nurturing, confident voice that one could imagine, "Let's get you back to a safe place." He talked, for a minute or two, with me answering a few short answers here and there, and fought the squeezing, in my mind. Really, really hard. I finally came to a place where the squeezing all of a sudden quickly eased over about 10 seconds, and I was in that safer place; he had helped me get there; he had not abandoned me to the scary "attack" of whatever was going on; he calmly, confidently, caringly, knowledgeably, and skillfully applied himself towards helping me get out of the very real physical distress I was in.

The rest of the appointment went well. I was scared at what I had experienced; that had never happened to me before. But afterwords, there also was a reassurance inside that scary as I thought therapy would be, that I now know he won't abandon me to the scary stuff. That he will HELP ME THROUGH IT. That is such a NEW concept for me, it's hard to even wrap my mind around it. I will NOT be alone in experiencing the difficulties. True, he was not not having the difficulty himself, but he was RIGHT THERE with me, in the trenches. As much as anyone outside my head COULD be. That is very comforting, and I felt very taken care of, and comforted, afterwards. Actually, that feeling of comfort and care, is what helped the squeezing go away.

I had never thought to feel such a physically intense reaction to psychological stuff. Or at least that kind of feeling.

In one way, it scares me because I feel like now I'm just at the beginning of starting into stuff like went on today, and who the heck knows what other kind of strange, scary, painful, and even debilitating physical and emotional reactions, ie, monsters, could rear their ugly heads . . . . . In another way, though, my confidence and trust in him is so much deeper, for the experience we went through today.

Today's Ologist appointment was good!

Actor Crush of the Day: Tom Hanks (He's just so comforting!)

We worked on the issue of "You can't hate yourself into health", among other things. Accepting myself. Sounds simple, doesn't it?

NOoooooooooooooooooooo, it's not. Accepting oneself, with all the flaws, inconsistencies, even irresponsible behavior, the almost always backing out of alot of things, my problems following through, my fears and avoidance behaviors, neediness, just so many things. How does one accept the pitiful creature that you think you are? And yes, I know I'm not pitiful. At least, part of me does anyway. Part of me thinks I am . . .

Talked about pushing back and lashing out against feeling like other people have these huge expectations of me. Not only expectations, but like "orders" of things they want me to do. And feeling controlled.

And feeling like, I am not acceptable if I am not on meds, to people. There are SO many issues surrounding meds. There can be SEVERELY CRIPPLING side effects. I'd rather live with the bipolar, than tardive dyskenesia, among other things. Not that I'm showing signs of that, but it's just one of the many issues.

I DO appreciate the concern for my well-being that is expressed when loved ones are concerned about whether I'm on meds or not, but . . . . feeling like they "suffer" me when I'm not on meds . . . . I'm just not sure what to do with that. I appreciated the honesty behind that, and do not regret who told me that, telling me that. I feel an implicit rejection in that statement, but I need to figure out my feelings on the issue.

It's a big issue, and NOT personally related to any one person. It's something I've thought about for the last year, ever since I heard that I might be bipolar. I wondered so much about how accepted and loved I was and would be, both on, and off meds. It is something I've pondered, and need to do some more figuring on.

I was able to bring it up briefly at the end of the session, but I suppose I'll discuss it further with him next week.

Chemical Soup & Chocolate Milk (Doesn't that sound yummy?)

Actor Crush of the Day: Christopher Lee (in his younger days, but he doesn't have to be TOO young; I've been watching Airport '77)

I've been having a rough time and I appreciate all the kindness I have received. Thank you, it really helps ALOT. The littlest things can really mean so much, because someone took the time to THINK of them, and do them, instead of assume it wouldn't mean much, or assume that I'm already getting plenty of those kind gestures.

I've gone from feeling melancholically morose, to being full of anger and wanting to push back, at anything and everything. Very edgy, agitated, and irritable. I had been wondering if a manic phase was coming on . . . and this may be it. Not the anger itself, of course, that is related to so many things, but just everything with how I'm feeling right now, it feels manic in the agitated instead of euphoric way. UGH. Or maybe even mixed, which is WORSE. Ah, well.

I just keep stirring the chemical soup pot in my mind, and holding my nose with a clothespin until it starts to smell better.

Now THERE's a vivid analogy for you. Lol!! Wonder what the ologist will say of it. He'll probably grin!

On another note, I actually cooked for the 2nd time in two weeks; these are the first time's I've cooked in months. So that's a positive sign. An egg noodle-broccoli-mushroom (canned) garlic-and thyme thing, it's a side dish but we eat it as a main. And it's easy.

On a comPLETEly unrelated subject, does anyone else like their chocolate milk really weak, like I do? I like it about half white/half choc milk, if it's choc milk from a jug. I mix them. Or even 60/40, with the 60 being white. Enough to taste that there's chocolate, or some days a strong HINT of chocolate, without it being too sweet/thick like the full strength can be sometimes.

Everything sucks.

Ditto. Oh yeah, and I do too.

I had a REALLY good ologist session today.

Actor Crush of the Day: All of the previous. They're all MINE. So THERE! (Teehee!)

Not feeling up to saying much more than that, but at least it's something. The title, not the actors (but wouldn't they be, though?)

Anyhoo, Back At The Ranch . . . .

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Laurie (I just discovered he's Mr. Palmer in Sense & Sensibility . . . . even MORE reason to love that movie!)

Anyone else use the word "Anyhoo"? Or admit to it, anyway? I really relaxed today in therapy and kicked back, and just had fun. I even told some psych jokes. And he hadn't heard them before. He thought the one about Santa needing to believe in himself, instead of depending on others believing in him, was the funniest!

So, anyhoo, raise your hand if you say Anyhoo.

So I used that word for the first time in therapy. It's amazing how much we censor out fun and quirky aspects of our personality when we feel like we are under other people's microscopes. The world looks rather harshly on silliness and unfettered exuberance. But that's ME.

I'm going to learn to not give a spit if the world, or its inhabitants that put me under a microscope, think this stuff is stupid. Think I am stupid. What do they know, anyway? I can learn to be ME, and being me is just DANDY thank you very much.

I hate when people get on their high horses and just look down their noses at you, all superior-like. That microscope thing is mostly about making you feel inferior to them. But I'm going to learn to not buy into that. I can be whoever I want, microscopes be damned.

Picture me, as a little amoeba, shaking my "fist" at the big bad nerd looking down through the microscope. Not gonna do it, anymore. We are all the same size. In other words, we are all the SAME, worth-wise. We are all sons and daughters of Heavenly Father, and that MEANS that no ONE person of us is any BETTER than any other. Anyone who thinks they are better than you, is forgetting that principle, if they ever knew it in the first place. Which some didn't, but even if they aren't religious, there's other analogies for everyone being equal.

So. I Rock! And I ain't gonna be held down by the Man, or the Woman, ANYMORE! At least, I'm gonna work on it anyway. WOOOOO! Yay for me. Teehee!

GREAT therapy session today! Need ride to charter school meeting.

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Grant

Hi all! I had a GRRrreeeeAAAAtttt sesssion today with Dr. Mower at his Salt Lake office.

Thank you SO much for your kind comments. I am sorry that I have not been up to commenting back; my ability to follow up on things isn't great at times, and now is one of those times.

Plus, the longer I'm on this upped dose of Neurontin, the worse I'm getting. I am not able to think very well, or react like I should, or as fast as I should. I'm not able to even contemplate more than one simple thing at once, I am very woozy, dizzy, light & heavy-headed at the same time, my eyes and head are so fatigued it's all I can do to keep my eyes open at times.

My head feels like a cannonball. And somebody's taking a hammer to it . . .

I sympathize with anyone having medication side effects. Our bodies are all different, as are our doses, but it's all important to each of us, how we experience the effects &/or misery of modern medical chemistry. ARGH.

I'm having a Neurontin Neuroses. Well, can't really even think what neuroses means, and I'm probably not having one. I just liked the alliteration, there.

I am SO HAPPY. I had a really TERRRRIIIFFFICCC therapy session today! I LOVE it! He is such a GREAT psychologist. Yipppeeee!

Such a mixed state I'm in cause, well, there's some other things going on right now that I won't mention right now, but perhaps later. I'm having a hard time thinking.

I feel like everything is molasses, and I'm having to wade through it. My mental processes just seem stuck in molasses. Hrm, makes me wanna make molasses cookies, or gingerbread cookies . . . . YUM. But so weighted down and floaty at the same time. I feel kinda . . . . drugged.

Oh, on another issue, there's a meeting in Bountiful next Tuesday, the 9th, about the HF Autism & Asperger's charter school that's coming soon. I have no way to get there and don't know what I'd do with Emily. So I REALLY could use some help figuring out a way there. This is very important that I MEET with the people, and ask them questions, and get as much info as I can.

I'm gonna go lay down. Ergh. Eyelids closing without my permission . . . . even as I keep typing. Eyes closed typing, that's a new trick . . .!

TTYL! TTFN! SYLA! AAWC!

Neurontin side effects?

Actor Crush of the Day: Sean Connery

I can't know for sure, but it's fairly obvious since I started Neurontin, and even more things since I bumped up the dose almost 4 weeks ago, that I'm having some negative side effects that may make it rather not worth it, despite the positive side effects.

From what I know, this is pretty much how the rest of my life is going to be. Testing different meds, and different combos of meds, to find what works, without so many side effects as to counterweigh by too much the positive side effects.

I feel like a guinea pig. Squeak!

Anyway, since bumping up from 900 to 1600, I have frequent woozy-ness and dizziness. A drugged sort of tiredness. You aren't sleepy in the normal sense, and yet you have a hard time keeping your eyes open, in a certain hour after a certain number of hours after taking the dose of medication. It is difficult to explain . . . .

Since starting the Neurontin in early September, after it started to kick in, it seems I've been LESS able to do things around here than ever before. It has severely increased my lack of focus; basically decreased my ability to focus to an extreme degree.

I LOVE to read. I LOVE it, I can read for hours and hours, in the right mood and state of mind. But in this, I imagine ADD-like state of agitated unfocused-ness, I try to read, and only get through a sentence or MAYBE a paragraph, and I HAVE to put it down. It's like trying to force that 700 pound shopping cart, that is skewed to turn one direction, a different way. Except the shopping cart is now like 5000 pounds. You try, and run up against a brick wall. You literally CANNOT force your brain to focus, even on something you love to do. That's just one example. Plus, for more tedious things, imagine the difficulties there. It's like my brain is on railroad tracks, and I can glimpse and sometimes grasp for a second things by the side of the tracks, but the train keeps going and I can't stop it to stay focused on whatever it was. I can't force the train off the rails, and head whatever direction I want.

It's driving Scott and I NUTS. He's frustrated that I haven't been able to do much of anything for 6-8 weeks now, around here. So am I. Before the Neurontin, I wasn't really able to do that much, but it was somewhat more than I am now. Now, it's NOTHING. UGH. The occasional batch of dishes or laundry I could summon up the energy to do about once every 8-9 days before, I can't now. I'm trying though. Occasionally I break through, but then I've used up all my energy, plus still being woozy and dizzy, and I'm then useless for anything for a LONG time.

It's like it was before the Neurontin, only WORSE. Of course, I also wonder, if I have ADD, and the Neurontin lifting some of the bipolar fog allowed that to come to the forefront. That could be, too. Because when the Effexor began to kick in earlier this year, it lifted alot of the horrid depression, and I began to drown in fear more intensely. It lifted the depression that had been dampening those aspects of my illnesses and allowed them to come to the forefront . . . .

Who knows. I've left a message with some details for Dr. Brinley, my iatrist, to call me back and discuss with me. Yet, I'm sad that yet another medication is probably proving to be NOT the solution, so we are back at square one, in regards to the bipolar. Plus the positive effects that I HAVE felt, I will be so SAD to see those go. It will be like the story, "Flowers For Algernon", in that I was able, for the first time in my life, to feel the full extent of my being, to feel fully my soul and depth of character and self, and depth of ability. That will fade away, and I will notice it fading away, until a certain point when so much is gone that I will be as I was before, in a rather unpleasant state and not able to even SEE that there was such a positive state as I had experienced. It's very poignantly sad to anticipate this. But I guess that's the way it goes.

In one way it is NOT back to square one, in that at least we know that Lamictal and Neurontin are not the meds for me . . . . Problem is, alot of the mood-stabilizing meds cause weight gain, to a significant, and for some, a SCARY degree. And at my weight, that is NOT an option.

I feel like a chemical SOUP. I need some croutons, with that, please. WAITER!