Thank you @TheBlogess, The depression closet is less cramped now!

Soooo, there's this blogger, The Blogess. She's snarky, foul mouthed, a great writer, very popular in the blogosphere, my age, and just plain cool. Well, she came out of the depression closet the other day. [insert clapping and whistling here, if you have the energy, if not I totally get it] Her post blew up! Went viral and from my last check she received over 2000 comments on it! Most were from others like us ('she and I' cause now we are a team...OK not really but in my head we are now bestie depressies) who have suffered for a long time and are  happy to see someone talk about it.

As I read her post with tear filled eyes (Of course she posted it during one of my down episodes) I wanted to hug her and say congratulations for getting it fully off her chest, explaining it so eloquently, and for making her peeps completely understand. My favorite part of her whole post that sums up the battle with the beast perfectly is:

"When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate.  Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again..."

As I look back in all my years and recollect memories of actions and conversations with friends I realize I have always talked about me and my parasitic twin Depression. Its just that I wasn't in a hospital gown with my ass hanging out, eyes gaunt from not seeing the sun, and tranquilized up to high heaven that no one caught on to the degree of which I was talking about it. 

When I finally sat my friends down to explain that HEY I'M CHEMICALLY IMBALANCED AND ON MEDS, HAVE BEEN FOR YEARS, I got the obligatory "Oh I was depressed when I broke up with my boyfriend for a month, it was horrible" type responses or the utter fear-in the eyes like I'm gonna go all Natural Born Killers at that moment.  I in response rolled my eyes and in my head screamed a big "fuck you" and moved on. Oh, I especially love all the advice "you should change your diet, it'll make you feel better" "get out more, have some fun" "pray about it", and the Piece de resistance question "do you want to kill yourself?"

I have since stopped talking to my friends about the battle I constantly conquer. Thank god for medically trained therapists who understand the disease and instead of asking asinine questions actually ask, "how's it been lately".  Have I mentioned before how much I love my HH? Well I do.

I will note that since my coming out many of my friends have come to me in confidence with sincere questions and asking for advice because they too have been going through a spell they are ashamed to talk to anyone else about. For this I am thankful I can't keep my mouth shut about depression and my meds, and that I post my vulnerability and weakness for all to see, cause damn it, it's helping make others stronger.

What happens when I can't sleep

Last night after a rough day I doubled my anxiety med dosage to really help me sleep. Oops! My theory backfired and I was jacked up with energy til about 3am!

What better to do than my nails. Problem was the poor lighting. I thought I was putting on a pretty pink polish. I woke to this fluorescent orange-pink that can stop traffic!

It makes me chuckle so that's good at least.

Trigger Happy

Oh the triggers that can send you from happily having a grip on life to spiraling down an emotional vortex.  Here's the recollection of my recent trigger moment that sadly I am still recovering from.

About a week before Christmas my B sent an email with a letter attached to M. That's cool, he's gonna start his healing with her. MY BAD! The letter was a seething jumble of anger. Best part was that it mentioned ME too may times and essentially once the dust cleared, threw me under the bus.  A Klonopin and couple hours later B called to see what I thought. Well, I told him. As he was getting angrier on the phone I kept trying to keep in check that he is probably in a cycle right now and nothing I say or do will cool the situation and my crying like a woman held hostage at gun point was not helping the matter.

Here's something you don't say to someone who is in treatment to make life better: "when do you see your therapist next because your reaction to this is not healthy." WHOA! Funny, his words then triggered the memory of M coming down from a cycle at B's wedding and having made a complete ass of herself apologizing by saying "well I guess K didn't take her meds that day". 

I want B to reconcile with M. I want there to be healthy dialogue between the two. I want him to feel her love again. BUT, the way he goes about reconciling he needs to keep in check. His reconciling cannot include me. I am one of her triggers and she is mine.

I have not confronted M. My method of healing was walking away and focusing on ME. Yes, she is now in my life once a week to see my DD but that is as far as it goes. My healing is knowing she is toxic, she does love us, and she has an un-treated disease which will always bring her back to me, the "bad" person, justifying in her mind and logic the right to aim and fire all artillery no matter what the original trigger for her war is. B does not understand this. He does not understand fully the disease that M suffers, nor the disease I live with. No, he sadly believes he's the healthiest of the bunch, even when he rages, has his manic highs of inspiration, and his depressing lows of pity and weakness.  

The Follow-up.

That evening I did see my rxHH, Normally she's not who I talk to in depth about things, she's my rx hander-outer is how I look at it. No, we normally talk about our daughters who are one week apart in age.  After talking about my med usage and self diagnosed stoppage and her suggestion to try something new she then asked, any panic attacks lately. Well, none of the textbook kind but then I started to spew about B's letter. She asked to read it. When she was done her face got distorted and a bit red. 

Her response left me feeling less crazy and more concerned.  "Well, that is an angry letter. Even if the recipient didn't have a mental illness she'd be very angry from the first sentence and furious by the end. If B really wanted her to get help, this is certainly not the way to do it. Maybe he should just send a card with a therapist's card in it. He doesn't understand M's illness. He does throw you under the bus in the letter, for that you are not over reading. I want to see you in 3 weeks and I promise not to be late for my appointment."

Three weeks. Promising not to be late for the appointment? Oh shit. I tell the receptionist three weeks, we both look at each other like "wow, someone is fucked up" then notice no availability then. So as I normally do I just say, lets go five or six, At that point Receptionist, still with the concerned look on her face (I've been going there almost 3 years so she and I are like old friends), says she needs to make sure this time its ok with the doctor. She comes back with an even more concerned almost frightened look and said, no, the doctor wants you back in three weeks. We will schedule for 5 but call you during the third week to squeeze you in or fill in a cancellation.

Next week is 3 weeks. Of course I've been in a funk, have had some nighttime panic attacks, and overall just feeling blah. Perfect. My rxHH does know what she's talking about. 

I like to Funk

Ok, really, no, I don't like to funk. Of course the chemicals in my brain love to funk it out!

My rxHH has me trying out more meds. They made me forget the funk for about a week but put pink dreads in my hair and call me George, the funk came back.

I should have figured it. Last week I was having some crazy-ass dreams that resembled my years' old recurring one with new characters and updated scenery. Two nights ago my hubs woke me up because I was screaming help me in my sleep. Last night was restless and today the funk has washed over me like a cloud of smoke from Mr. Clinton's hookah.

So tonight I'm eating peanut butter for some needed protein, popping my anxiety pill, and holding tight to keep my footing during this swirling time of funk.

Quote of the Day

I never know how to respond to "What's good?" Life? Everything? Cupcakes & rainbows & puppies? What is the appropriate answer? -Author Unknown

Food Addict Not Anonymous time to paint my nails

Well I made it to my rxHH. I neglected to tell her I have not been on any meds since September and that I feel pretty OK. No major dips, no major highs, just OK.  She is going to try me on another new med....so new the pharmacy didn't have it in stock and I have a co-pay assistance voucher from the pharma to help pay for it. I told her I liked the Lexipro so instead I'm trying something new. 

I met with  my HH this week also. We addressed my eating addiction. I explained to her it is an addiction. She likened it to being a cutter. I feel nothing so when I gorge to the point of literal discomfort and mental anguish, I finally feel something, even if it's negative. 

Thinking back, I never cut myself as a child. I restricted my food intake dangerously, worked out to excess, and occasionally dropped some melted plastic on my leg. Hmmm.

Behavior modification is now the prescription from HH. I must do something that makes a positive or not negative feeling when I find myself reaching for food or thinking about it. I've decided to focus on my nails. Now the funny thing is I bite my nails. Gosh do I love biting my nails. Anyways, I am going to work on my nails...fake as of right now, when I have that numb feeling. 

Last night I began. I now have China Glaze Pelican Gray base, Black french manicure tips, and on my pinky its topped with a gold glitter that B picked out. I'm waiting for the top coat to dry so I can then get back to work...I have a birthday cake to decorate for a party tonight!

It's the food that makes fat, not pills

Oh the joys of keeping control. I've been avoiding my rxHH while continuing the experiment on myself about the meds and weight gain. So far my unofficial finding is: the meds cause me to not notice all the food I'm putting in my gullet! Funny, Lexipro helped me get stuff done, to just do it. The generic blocked out what I was doing (eating) and has thus made me feel the fool!

It's autumn, my favorite season. Lots of baking is going on around here. The challenge I've proposed is to not succumb to the devilish taunting of these delicious creations. Just bake them and serve them. That being said, here are a few of the cupcakes I made this weekend. Lemon/Lemon is now my new favorite...for which I will have to show great constraint and will power to just enjoy via viewing and not consuming. 

Nothing beats White on White

These are Pumpkin Pie Spice with Vanilla Buttercream

OH, I made come cookie trays too!