Mental Health Update

Today is World Mental Health Day!  So I figured . . . what better day to finally come back to my blog and post an update about my mental health journey?

Overall, right now, my mental health is in a really good place.  In the time since I moved to Washington, I've gotten a psychiatrist, been diagnosed with OCD, and started on a new antidepressant.

The thing is, my mental health had been dipping quite a bit before I left AZ.  For probably the last year that I was in Flagstaff, I started developing OCD symptoms.  Now, I struggled with OCD as a child, and there's always been a small element of it with my issues, but it had never been a huge problem for me as an adult.  When Jenny and I got to WA, the OCD peaked--I'm sure the stress of the move and the transition into working from home contributed.  It got to a point where it was impacting my life: showering was a massive undertaking that took hours, I couldn't leave the house without doing multiple OCD routines, I wasn't sleeping . . . it was a nightmare.  I started seeing my psychiatrist in the summer of 2017, and at that point, the plan was just to get me re-medicated and see if that helped.  I had hopes that it would, because the OCD had been getting worse as my medication issues had gone on (remember, I didn't have a regular psychiatrist and regular prescriptions for the last year or so I was in Flagstaff).

For all of 2018 I did well with my meds, but the OCD just got worse.  So in January of 2019, I told my psychiatrist I needed something different, because I just couldn't do it anymore.  I had done a lot of research and I asked to be put on Zoloft.  Thankfully my doctor was totally on board, and he thought Zoloft was a great option for me.  So we started that, and I titrated up to a 200 mg/day dose, and . . . it has actually helped a TON!  I've eliminated or limited a bunch of routines, and even with the stuff I'm still working on, my life isn't nearly as impacted by it.  I feel SO MUCH BETTER than I used to, so much more capable of just living my life.  It's great.  And hopefully it keeps getting better, because there are definitely still some things I'm working on.

Another thing that's been really good the past year-ish has been that I've been able to really think about my issues and kind of delve into them and figure myself out.  For example, I've recognized a very specific anxiety trigger that has been with me since I was a kid, I was just never able to quantify it before.  And I recognize that my OCD gets worse in certain situations, like when I'm PMS-ing.  

My overreaction/rage issues are pretty much completely gone.  That's probably the biggest change I've noticed about myself is that I'm just calm about things that, if they happened years ago, would have made me break down.  Last fall, for example, Jenny and I went to leave the apartment to run errands one day, and the car wouldn't start.  I couldn't get it towed for a couple days, and then it took a few days to fix, and . . . it just didn't bother me.  I mean, I wasn't thrilled, because it was a very expensive annoyance, but I took the bus when I needed to go out (I was still working at home when this happened) and just . . . handled it.  As frustrating as it was, it was good to see that progress.  I'm just a lot more capable of dealing with life than I used to be.

I also have a much stronger sense of self than I used to.  That was something I struggled with for a long, long time--feeling like I didn't know myself and had no clue who I was.  And I remember stressing about weird things like not having a cohesive set of hobbies and stuff like that.  But now I'm in a place where I can just embrace and be happy with whatever I feel like doing because . . . it's all me.  (I know that's cheesy as hell but it's true!)  Some days I write, some days I sew, some days I hike, some days I play Overwatch . . . and it's all awesome and I love it.  I actually LIKE myself now and holy crap, it's a good feeling.

And of course, Jenny has been a fantastic help and support through all of this.  I truly don't know what I'd do without her.  (For the record, we're still just roommates/best friends/exes . . . and it's still easy and not weird or awkward or anything.)  

I really am happier and more content than I've ever been as an adult, and I have so much hope and optimism for the future!  I think things will only get better from here.

A Rough Week

Let me tell you about the time I had a mental breakdown because of air freshener.

So first, some background: I spray air freshener in my bedroom every night before I go to bed.  I like to smell something soothing while I'm falling asleep, and those better sleep tips almost always include having a scent you associate with sleep and spraying it at night.  I used to use the pillow spray they sell at Bath and Body Works, but it's really expensive for how small the bottles are; then I switched to Febreze's night time line but that's disappeared from the stores, so now I just spray air freshener.  I usually use a lavender/vanilla Febreze, but if the store's out of that I'll just buy whatever.

So this past Sunday Jerbs and I went shopping, and they didn't have the lavender stuff.  But they did have this Febreze kind called Pumpkin Bliss, and even though I think it's a little too early for fall stuff, I got excited and bought it.

That night, I got ready for bed like always and sprayed my new air freshener.  It smelled really good and very fall-y, and I thought it would definitely help me sleep.  I was very, very wrong.

While I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I started to think that this pumpkin air freshener smelled familiar, like it was making me think of something.  I realized that it smelled EXACTLY like this pumpkin air freshener Jerbs and I got at Bath and Body Works way back in 2009, when we first moved to the complex we live in now, when we got our 2 bedroom place after we broke up.  We put that air freshener in our living room, and I guess I associated that smell with that place.  And smelling it again just took me right back to that time in 2009, when the break up was still really raw and I was struggling with having moved but at the same time hopeful that the move would be a new start for me.

And it was all just overwhelming.  In a way that I can't even really explain.  But I suddenly found myself feeling so nostalgic for that time, when I was younger and before I got really sick and when I had my own space and potential, and I got sad thinking about how little I've accomplished since then, and how much better that time was (in some ways), and I felt guilty about everything I've put Jerbs through since then and how nice she's been to me, and then I thought about how it was my meeting Corey that put an end to that era and I got sad and bitter about that.  And all of those feelings inevitably lead to thinking about how behind I feel in life, and how I feel like I haven't reached my true potential, and how that is entirely because of being bipolar.  So I just laid in bed and cried my eyes out for a couple hours; I eventually fell asleep but I didn't sleep well, so Monday morning was not pleasant.

I almost faked sick and asked to leave early, but instead I requested Friday (today) off, just because I needed a mental health day.  Thankfully it got approved, so I got to just chill at home and relax today, which was nice.  And Jerbs bought me dinner at Beaver Street Brewery, which is a good solution for most problems.

Anyway, I survived Monday, but on Tuesday I was still just in a funk.  Then Wednesday my period started, which helped exactly NOTHING.  I felt like crap yesterday too.  I seriously didn't work out all week, I didn't even try to eat decently, I was just . . . out of it.  Depressed and angry and just out of it.  It sucked.

But today I got to just chill at home and hang out with Jerbs, and that helped a LOT.  Jerbs bought me dinner at Beaver Street Brewery too, which is always great.

I'm feeling better now, but I still feel like I just have a lot on my mind.  I've just been thinking a lot about my life lately, about what I haven't done and what I want to do, and I know I shouldn't dwell on the past but . . . I think a combination of still being in mental health recovery and having turned 30 contribute to that kind of thinking.

Right now, though, life is good.  I like my job.  I'm OK financially.  I'm more engaged than I've ever been.  I'm almost finished with my CPC class.  My BFF is getting married in 2 months and I get to be a part of that, and after the wedding is Halloween and fall and Christmas and all my other favorite things so . . . I really can't complain.

There are just times when I really think about how much of my life this BS mental illness has caused me to miss, and it seems so colossally unfair that I can't shake it.

But I can't do anything about that now, so the next best thing is to just make the most of every single second from here on out.

A Year Without A Psychiatrist

I said in my last post that I've been without a psychiatrist for nearly a year now, so I thought I'd follow that up by talking about what I've done this past year to keep myself on track treatment wise.

The first few months were pretty easy.  Between the last of my refills from Dr. Wright, and the refill Dr. F gave me, I was fully medicated until the end of November.  In December I broke into my "emergency" Lithium stash, which was basically about a month and a half worth of old prescriptions that I'd never taken.  (I had this partly from those times when I just wouldn't take my medicine, and partly leftover from when the couple times I switched medications before the current Rx ran out, if that makes sense).  I lowered my dose a little bit and my emergency supply lasted until the end of February.

At that point I had been unsuccessfully trying to work things out with my old doctor/been looking for a new doctor, and it was taking longer than expected.  I knew I couldn't just cold turkey stop my medication, so I started looking for an alternative.  I remembered an old Hastings co-worker telling me she was (self diagnosed) bipolar, and that she took a natural, OTC Lithium supplement.  I didn't think such a thing existed, but after I did some poking around on the internet, I found it.  It's called Lithium orotate and you can get it on Amazon.  It's obviously not the same formulation as Rx Lithium (which is Lithium carbonate); it's a lower dosage made mostly of elemental Lithium, and there's some evidence that the bioavailability is different as well.  It hasn't been studied very extensively in humans, but I was desperate, and it was something, so I bought it.  I started myself out on a dosage that was higher than what the bottle recommended but lower than my therapeutic dose of Rx Lithium.

And it actually helped.  I will say that it's not as effective as "real" Lithium, but it has most definitely kept the edge off of my worst symptoms for the past 6 months.  I haven't had any manic or hypomanic episodes; I've had a few down swings but not any true depressive episodes either.  It was the most helpful the first couple months I was taking it (March thru July).  I mean, in June I was able to get a second job, so obviously I was doing OK.  It's only been the past few weeks that I've started to feel like the effectiveness was dropping off a bit, which is why I started focusing on finding a psychiatrist again.

Like I said, it hasn't been perfect.  Since the end of August, some things have fallen by the wayside: I haven't written in a while, I haven't been working out or eating right, and my house is in desperate need of a deep clean.  Right now, though, those are all things I don't have the mental energy to do.  But I have been able to get up and go to work every day and hold down my job and even do really well at it, and that's amazing.  I also haven't had any suicidal ideation or thought about cutting.  So while the past 6 months of alternative treatment haven't been my best, they've far and away not been my worst, either.  I can tell you that if I'd just gone unmedicated, I'd be unemployed and possibly dead right now, and I'm neither.  All in all, I call it at least a semi success.  I'm also really proud of myself for being able to find an alternative and at least do something to keep myself well, because old me would have just let it go and suffered the consequences.

Right now, things are on a bit of a downslope.  I haven't had any energy the past couple weeks, I can feel my temper getting shorter, and in general, I just haven't felt well.  I'm just trying to make it through as best as I can, and in less than two weeks I'll see my new doctor and everything will get better from there.  I can't even express how much I'm looking forward to my appointment, because I'm ready to get back to where I was.

2 Years of Evolution

So I was actually going to write this post back at the end of the May (around the 2 year break up anniversary), but then . . . I just got busy and it got pushed to the back burner and I ended up not getting around to it then.

But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that today—the first of July—is actually a more appropriate anniversary for this journey I've been on. Because, even though it was on May 25^th that Ex-Fiance told me he didn't think we should get married, that relationship didn't truly end—and I didn't truly start to focus on myself and getting better—until I moved back up to Flagstaff. And that happened two years ago today.

Honestly, it's hard to even know where to begin when I talk about this. I've changed so drastically since that day two years ago that I barely know how to put it into words. I've talked about it a lot on here, in bits and pieces, but summing it all up is a challenge.

The day that Ex-Fiance drove me to Flagstaff felt like the worst of my life. To say I was miserable would be a pretty major understatement. I remember the anxiety and numbness coming in waves: my stomach knotting up, palms sweating, heart racing, and then a sudden detachment, a sense of almost nothingness, like I was outside of my body and all around not a part of what was going on. I didn't want to be in Flagstaff; I kept thinking that there was no way I was ever going to get better in the place where my life had completely fallen apart. I kept thinking about my nephew and and saying goodbye to him and how awful that had been, and how bitter I was at being forced out of my hometown and away from my family. At the time I had a crappy job and really didn't know how I was going to survive financially. I knew I needed a full time job, but I also knew that I wasn't mentally well enough to hold down a full time job . . . and I wasn't going to be able to afford treatment without a full time job. (How's that for a vicious cycle?). I didn't have a car and I was dreading having to depend on the bus system. And on top of that I had just gotten dumped; I was with the man I loved, the man I had fully intended to spend the rest of my life with, the man I was supposed to have married just the day before, and I knew that at the end of the day he was going to leave. I remember that he stuck around for a few hours, and that I felt like I was going to throw up when he finally said he needed to get going. He kissed me and told me he loved me before he left; I stood on my porch and watched him drive away and wished that I was dead.

On that day my life just didn't make sense. I looked at it from all the angles I could, and it sucked from every single one. I don't think I'd ever felt more defeated than I did that day. My future—to me, at least—looked bleak. Very, very bleak.

Today, two years later, I am happier than I've ever been. And it was just a normal, busy day; I got up, went to work (at both jobs), and came home to Jerbs and my dogs. That's probably the best part about being mentally healthy—that the normal, uneventful, everyday kind of days are happy ones. When I was sick I hated being alive, hated having to live through every day, but now I'm truly engaged in my life and myself. It's such a good feeling.

I've come so far in two years. I got an amazing full time job, and I've been excelling at it for almost 18 months now. I feel like a lot of my personal growth has come from my job at MHC, for a lot of reasons. The financial stability has been great, and has led to a lot less anxiety about money. I've also been able to start getting my credit on track. Aside from that, I feel like I've become a lot more confident about myself since I started at MHC. I've taken on more responsibility there than I ever imagined I would; some of the things that have been added to my work load are things that, when I first started, I didn't think I could do or would want to do. But now, I'm pretty sure I could do anything that was asked of me at work; I'm very confident in my abilities. And the confidence that's come from everything I do at MHC is what let me to be sure I could handle a second job. And let me tell you that having two jobs makes me feel absolutely amazing.

It's also been a great experience to work with people who don't know me as being sick. My co-workers like me, and just think of me as me. And it's been nice to be looked at like a normal person, to have been able to make friends and just . . . I don't know, show people who I really am. When you think about it, my MHC co-workers are the first group of people who have ever met me without knowing anything about my mental health history. And I'm definitely not saying that I feel like other people in my life have been judgmental; I'm just saying that it's kind of nice to have people in my life who never saw me like that. They make me feel normal.

I've stopped overreacting to things. I feel like in the past, things that were pretty small and insignificant would make me freak out. Like changes in schedules or the store being out of something I needed or whatever. Those little things would just make me go ballistic and ruin my whole day. Now, those things just don't bother me. And even bigger things that happen don't bother me as much. Like the flat tire on my way to work last month. Old me would have lost my shit. I'd probably have cried and screamed and kicked my car. I wouldn't have had the money to pay for a tow or new tire and I'd have made Jerbs wake up and meet me so she could take care of it. I probably would have been so upset that I'd have called in to work because I wouldn't have been able to focus after freaking out. And then I'd have come home and thrown myself a huge pity party and thought about all the reasons my life sucked. But instead, I rolled my eyes, grumbled a little bit (because no one WANTS to get a flat tire on their way to work on a Monday morning), and took care of it. I joked with the tow truck driver, passed the time at the tire shop playing Angry Birds on my phone, and then went to work. And that was just that. It didn't even remotely ruin my day.

I've stopped focusing on other people's lives and letting them effect me. Before I dreaded reading Facebook statuses because every little thing just . . . I don't know, made me get all over analytical about my own life. Any time a friend would get engaged or get married or move or get a job or really succeed in any way, I'd have an anxiety attack about the fact that I wasn't succeeding. I felt like a failure and everyone else's successes just reinforced that over and over again. It got to points where I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else and would get far too wrapped up in other people's lives for my own good. Now when I hear about good things happening to other people on Facebook, I'm just happy for them. I'm doing well enough in my own life, at this point, that I can come back to it easily. And even more than that, I want to come back to it. No matter how well anyone I know is doing, I like my own life better. I used to dread the future but now I'm excited about it. I see so much potential in myself and I know I'm going to accomplish great things.

I've stopped feeling like I need to define myself and become more OK with all of the parts of my personality co-existing. Before I felt like I had to pick who I was and whenever I did anything I wondered about how that fit into this over arching definition of me. For example, I remember once I got to thinking that I hadn't done a sewing project in a while. So I decided I wanted to sew something. And what should have been as easy as picking a pattern, grabbing some fabric, and setting up my machine turned into a massive anxiety attack because I just didn't know if I was the type of person who sewed. Does that make sense? My head made it a far bigger thing than it was, I guess. I just didn't know how to reconcile all the things I enjoyed into one personality. It seems so ridiculous now but it was a very serious issue at the time. And now I really get that I can be all the things I like and it's all just part of who I am. I sew, I write, I read, I hike, I work out . . . and it's all fine. I can do all those things without worrying about what they mean.

In general, my mind just feels more mine than it used to. I feel like I didn't used to have a lot of control over where my thoughts would go and what they would do; it was to the point that I couldn't really read books or watch TV or movies because I never knew how they'd effect my thought process. It sounds crazy but it's true. I was so afraid of the anxiety or depression or mania or whatever might come up that I just avoided anything I hadn't read or seen before. And it's silly but I missed those things, and having them back is a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

One thing that I haven't talked much about on here is that I've found my faith since I started this journey two years ago. I used to be a staunch atheist. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all, my views in that area have definitely shifted. I don't know that I'd call myself a Christian, and I haven't read the Bible, and I don't go to church, but I do believe in God. I feel like my faith is something I want to experience on my own terms; I pursue a personal relationship with a higher power and that's that. I will say that I pray a lot, and that I feel very blessed. I see God at work every day in my own life. Like I said, I don't talk about it much, because it's very private.

Right now, I really do love my life. It's not perfect but it's wonderful, and I'm happy. I love where I live, I love what I do, and I love who I am. I am aware, every single day, of how fortunate I am to have gotten where I am from where I was. And I am thankful, every single day, for everything that got me there: for God, for my family, for Jerbs, for my ex, and for my own determination.

It hasn't been an easy journey, but it has been a beautiful one. As much pain and struggle as there's been, I don't think I'd change a thing.

Feeling Better And Getting Sick(?)

Mentally I'm feeling much better.  A weekend back on my medication and with some decent sleep has done me a world of good.  I'm still not 100% (still a little anxious at times) but still, much, much better.  Friday night in particular was amazing, because I took two a/d's and a Benadryl and just crashed.  It was blissful to actually be able to sleep.

And Jerbs being gone wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Although I did feel bad for Max who was stuck at home with a mom who didn't particularly feel like doing anything all weekend; I pretty much just wanted to stay inside and rest.  I swear Max nearly had a heart attack when we picked Jerbs up from the bus station on Sunday evening, he was just so HAPPY.

So mentally things are improving and that's awesome.  I'm still pretty livid that I had to deal with this ridiculous setback at all but at the same time, I'm not going to let it define me.  I won't lie, I had a few moments where the "what ifs" spiraled out of control and I worried that I'd never get my medicine and then lose my job and then my car and never get well again and that this snafu would be the unraveling of everything I'd accomplished.  But that's completely not the case.  And I know that, so I'm working very hard to not let it get me down.  At least this time around I can say that it was absolutely not my fault at all; this had nothing to do with me being non-compliant or rebellious or in denial like I used to be, and everything to do with some stupid miscommunication between other people.  At this point I don't give a shit what happened as long as it gets fixed and doesn't happen again.

As great as mental health is, I think I'm getting physically sick.  I mentioned that there's some nastiness going around work right now--bronchitis or something similar.  Basically a week ago today the one co-worker I absolutely despise because he is literally the most wretchedly annoying person I've ever met came to work sick.  He proceeded to walk around the business office hacking like mad and never covering his mouth or using hand sanitizer (seriously, he's disgusting, and we watched).  But his boss (the CEO) wouldn't send him home, and when he told him to wear a mask, the gross co-worker insisted he wasn't sick.  And sure enough by Tuesday one co-worker was coughing, and by Wednesday two more were.  My office mate and I shut our door, disinfected our entire office space, and crossed our fingers.

Well, today, one sick co-worker was fine, one is better, and one has a doctor's appointment tomorrow because she thinks she has pneumonia.  PNEUMONIA.

So far I've managed to not get it but then this evening . . . I don't know.  I'm starting to feel under the weather.  I was OK until I got off work, but once I got home, all I wanted to do was go to bed.  I slept through DWTS, and you know it's serious if I miss that.

All I can say is that if I'm getting sick it best be out of my system by Halloween because on November 1st I'm going to Kingman for a certain darling nephew's 5th birthday party, which I really, really don't want to miss.  At the same time, I'm not going to be a dick and infect my family and a bunch of 5 year old kids with potential pneumonia.  So my fingers are crossed.

And btw, it's windy as all hell and freezing and doing something like raining outside right now . . . I love this weather, sick or not!

Deep . . . Deep . . . Deep . . . Breaths

Sooooo . . . let's talk about the gigantic cluster F that is my mental health treatment right now.

There are two parts to this story, and I really  can't remember what I've talked about here and what I haven't, so let's just start at the beginning.

The first part of this story is that I owe my doctor's office money that they can't legally collect from me.  Basically, they're trying to do what's called "balance billing"--an illegal practice that involves charging a patient for the difference between the insurance's allowed amount for a service and what the doctor's office charges for a service.  Every insurance company has what's called a fee schedule, which consists of their allowed amounts for cpt codes--in other words, every insurance company basically says, this is what we'll pay for whatever code, and this is the most our insured members can be charged for this code.  Does that make sense?

So MHC does the smart thing, and links each pt. account to their specific insurance's fee schedule, so that we're already billing the allowed amount.  That way we never have to do any weird additional adjustments on claims; it's very handy.  But some doctor's offices bill the insurance companies their cash pay rates, which is dumb and just makes more work.

So this is what happened to me.  I paid $180.40 at my visit with the crappy temp doctor.  Which was all good and fine and whatever.  Then around the beginning of the month-ish, I got a bill from his office for $219.60.  Why?  Because their charge for the cpt 99205 is $400.00, and according to them, I owed the difference between that and what I paid.

However, I work in medical billing, and not a day goes by that I don't look at the BCBS fee schedule, so I know that their allowed amount for that particular code is only about $265.  Meaning that unless BCBS says that I'm not insured by them, my doctor's office legally cannot charge me more than $265 for that visit.  I called them and left a voicemail saying I'd be glad to pay the difference of like $85 but that I wasn't paying a penny more than that.  In return they said I needed to call my insurance because they needed records from a previous provider.  Which I did, and guess what?  The provider they need records from is my old doctor . . . whose records are AT THE SAME FREAKING OFFICE AS MY NEW DOCTOR.  Effing ridiculous.  So I may be in a pre-existing condition period at this point, which is fine, because I have a high deductible anyway so I was fully anticipating paying for the visit.  But regardless of the reason that BCBS says they won't pay (unless it's for no coverage, which it won't be), I legally do not have to pay more than the allowed amount.  Again, I do this for a living and I know for a fact that I'm right.

In the same voicemail as telling them I'd only pay the allowed amount I asked what was going on with my prescriptions and was told to request a refill through my pharmacy.  I did that last week, and yesterday, upon calling the pharmacy to check the prescription status, I was told that the doctor had denied it.  Um . . . what?  The only thing I can figure is that they're denying it because of the money that I owe them, which makes me livid beyond comprehension.  I called and left a voicemail (they never answer their phone) and haven't heard back yet.  I'm now about a week off of my antidepressants and I am not feeling well.  I'm so.freaking.mad.

Tomorrow I'm going to call BCBS (at my boss's recommendation) and let them know what's going on as far as the balance billing stuff.  Insurance companies take that very seriously and they could revoke their credentialing with this particular physician if it's a regular practice.  And in AZ, losing your BCBS contract means going out of business.

I also printed out the forms to file a complaint with the AZ Medical Board, and if this isn't resolved soon, those forms will be filled out and sent to Phoenix faster than this office can say "sorry, our bad."

In the meantime, I'm trying very hard to relax and keep calm and just go about my life, but it's very difficult.  I can feel symptoms creeping back and I hate it more than I can say.  It makes me so angry that I do everything that I'm supposed to, and that ultimately this doctor would rather make an extra $140 than give his patients proper care.

What I find really upsetting is that I only caught this error because stuff like this is my job.  I wonder how many other patients who don't know anything about medical billing have just paid their balance and not thought anything of it?  Incredibly depressing.  Taking advantage of mentally ill patients is disgusting.

Anyway, I'm off to bed.

Sick x 2

1.  I am physically sick.

I have a sinus infection and it sucks.  My head has felt like it might explode from all the pressure for pretty much the last 3 days straight.  Work has been hell, because I feel like I totally can't focus and every little noise makes my head hurt more.  My head pounds whenever I bend over, my ears keep popping and draining, and I get dizzy when I lie down.  Plus I have a cough and a sore throat.  Oh, and my lymph nodes are so swollen I look like I've gained at least 10 pounds.  And I haven't been to the gym since last Thursday because I don't want to pass out on the elliptical.  Very frustrating.  And naturally this happens when I absolutely cannot miss a day of work because the shit is hitting the fan there at the moment . . . sigh.

2.  I am unmedicated.

Through no fault of my own.

Let me start by saying that when I went to my dr's appt. last week, I had a couple days of medication left.  Enough to get me through the weekend.  And since that POS Dr. DBag assured me that he would call in a prescription for me, when I got to Monday morning and was out of Lithium, I assumed that my pharmacy would have a prescription ready and waiting for me.  Because that's what normally happens when a doctor says he'll call in a script for you.  So I check on my pharmacy website, and there's no record of any script for anything from that doctor.  Meaning . . . it was never called in.  Meaning . . . I paid $200 and all I got for my money was the chance to rehash all the unpleasant details of my history and listen to some incredibly misogynistic theories about men and women.  Granted, they didn't take the payment until Friday (payday) and it could very well be that they were holding the prescription until I paid . . . but Friday was 3 days ago now, and I can tell you from personal experience, because I run patient credit cards every single day, that it takes about 2, maybe 3 minutes to run it and post the payment.  So assuming they did it Friday morning, there is absolutely zero reason for that prescription to not have been called in.  I was freaking livid.  And if for some reason my card didn't go through . . . why haven't I been called?  I also haven't been called to schedule an appt. with the other new doctor I'm supposed to see.  So needless to say, I'm not too thrilled with this office right now.

Anyway, fortunately, I had one more refill of Li from my old doctor still on file that doesn't expire til 2014, so I went ahead and requested that refill.  It was supposed to be ready this afternoon but wouldn't you know it, for some reason, it isn't.  In fact, according to the pharmacy website, the initial request was canceled and then another one for a slightly lower quantity is processing . . . so I don't know WTF is going on.  That's going to be a fun phone call tomorrow morning.

I'm definitely starting to feel the absence of the Li.  Nothing major, I can just feel my anxiety/stress level creeping up a bit.  It probably wouldn't be as bad if I wasn't sick already, or if things at work weren't so insane right now.  I'm hoping that my refill will be ready tomorrow.  If I can get the mental aspect of health back under control I think the physical aspect will be a lot more manageable.

Sigh.  I'm just so irritated by this whole freaking process.  I've been cruising along just fine all this year and I don't like having a wrench thrown in it by, of all people, my doctor's office.

EDIT: My pharmacy got their shit together and I have my Lithium prescription.  Thank.goodness.  I'm still very unimpressed with my doctor's office, though.  (9.25.13)

Some Not So Great News

Yesterday morning I had an appointment with my psychiatrist, and I went in expecting it to be pretty standard.  But after going over some basics, my doctor asked me what I was thinking of doing as far as follow up.  I was totally confused, but it turns out that Dr. Wright is actually closing his practice and moving to Arkansas.  Apparently they sent letters to all his patients about this back in June but for whatever reason they had my Kingman address on file (I KNOW I updated that when I moved back up here).  So he's leaving in September.

I'm so sad!  I'm glad for Dr. Wright and I know that he's taking advantage of a good opportunity professionally, but I will definitely, definitely miss him.  I am sincerely beyond grateful to him for his help.  If it wasn't for Dr. Wright, who finally listened to my symptoms and gave me a correct diagnosis and appropriate treatment, I would probably be dead right now.  I really do believe that.

We chose Dr. Wright because he was the first doctor Corey called who took uninsured patients; by the time we talked to him I was losing hope pretty fast.  He ended up being great for me; we just clicked, and I owe a huge amount of my success to him.  I'm so grateful for that.

I thanked him for everything he's done for me, and he thanked me in return and told me that it's been a privilege to see how much I've improved the past couple years.  He told me that he'll always remember me as a success story, and that was fantastic to hear.

As far as treatment goes, I have an appointment with another doctor in the same building in September, and after that, I'll probably start seeing the doctor who's replacing Dr. Wright.  He said he thinks she'd be a good fit for me, but she doesn't start until October and her schedule's pretty insane until December-ish, and I'll need medication refills before that, so this appointment in September is a "bridge" appointment, basically.

I'm not thrilled about having to start over with someone new (TWO more rounds of new patient paper work, awesome!) but I'm not dreading it either.  I'm at a point where I feel like I know what I need from a provider, so I feel like regardless of who the doctor is, I can advocate for myself, if that makes sense.

I'm more bummed to see Dr. Wright go than anything.  I may have cried a little on the way to work after my appointment, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.  I wish him the best, and again, my gratitude for him is tremendous.

Three Hundred and Sixty Five

I'm really not sure what to say about the one year anniversary but I feel like I need to say something.

It was a quiet, uneventful day.  My co-worker brought her kids over to visit Max (they're the ones I adopted him from) and they and Max had so much fun.  We took Max on a long walk together and when they left, he tried to leave with them; afterward he just sat at the front door and cried.  I took him to PetSmart and ran a few errands, then spent my evening watching LOST on Netflix and cleaning/organizing things around here.

So all in all, not a whole lot to talk about.  I expected it to feel . . . I don't know, more significant, but I didn't actually think about it much.  I mean, in the back of my mind, I was aware, all day, of the one year thing but overall, it wasn't too big a deal.  I thought about calling him more than once but every time I dialed his number I hung up before I even pressed talk.

It's hard to believe it's been a year.  Past that, I don't know what to say, really.  On the one hand this feels like a deadline: if it's been a whole year then it's definitely time to give up and stop hoping and just move on with my life regardless of how strongly I feel I'm not quite ready to do that.  On the other hand this has somehow made me feel more hopeful, in the sense of maybe now it's been long enough.  Maybe now enough time has passed that we can sit down and talk things out and go from there.

Sometimes I look at the past year and I feel like a failure.  I feel like there's so much more I could have accomplished if I'd worked a little bit harder or devoted myself a little bit more.  This is really pretty limited to my weight and physical health--sometimes I look in the mirror and I think to myself, Do you know how much you could have accomplished in a year if you'd just eaten better and worked out more?  And yeah, it disappoints me.

At the same time, though, I know that I have accomplished tons in the past year.  Reading blog entries and FB statuses from this time last year is proof that I'm really a completely different person now than I was then.

First and foremost, my mental health has improved by leaps and bounds.  I'm healthier now than I ever have been as an adult.  I feel like I'm in control of my own mind, I'm not as angry or as bitter, my sense of self gets stronger every day.  And even more than that I'v been able to commit to my treatment.  I take my medicine every day, I go to my doctor's appointments, I get my lab work done when I'm supposed to.  All great things that I definitely wasn't doing as much or as well before.  I don't have anxiety attacks anymore and I can sleep without sleeping pills.  I feel capable.  I do still have bad days but now when I do, they're normal bad days in the sense that whatever made them bad is a legitimate thing to be upset about.  Does that make sense?  Mostly I don't blow things out of proportion anymore, and one little aggravation doesn't ruin my day.

I'm also just . . . I don't know.  At this time last year I was mentally a mess, I didn't own a car, and I was making $8 an hour working in retail.  Now, I'm mentally healthy, was just able to buy a car on my own, and I'm making almost double what I used to be plus working actual full time hours.  It amazes me, because a year ago, I wouldn't have been able to have a full time job given my mental state.

So really, the best thing to say is that I've done well.  I've done as well as I could despite the fact that I got my heart broken and that I'm still heart broken right this very second.

At the end of the day, I still miss Ex-Fiance.  And I still love him.  And I would still really, really like the opportunity for a second chance.

I want him to know me like this.  I want him to see who I really am.  That girl that made him miserable . . . that wasn't me.  That's *not* me.  And I know that I'm at a point where I could be in a relationship and do it successfully, and I want it to be with him.  I still feel, very strongly, that I could be happy spending the rest of my life with him.

So that's that.  Either way--with Ex-Fiance or without Ex-Fiance--I feel like I have a bright future and I'm glad to be alive and healthy.

I remember, just after the break up happened, I was in the back room at the Kingman Hastings with one of my co-workers.  We were talking, and I said something about how scared I was that things might not work out with Ex-Fiance in the end.  And my co-worker said, "So if that happens, then worst case scenario is you survive and come out of this knowing you can handle anything."  I honestly think it was the most useful thing anyone said to me at that point and I've carried it with me and repeated it to myself and now it feels more true than ever.

I'm looking forward to summer.  To my life.  To all the things I have yet to accomplish.

2 Years

As I posted that lovely entry about being sick, I noticed the date: April 18th.  It's a significant date because it was on April 18th, 2011 that I went to my first appointment with my current doctor, when I was officially diagnosed with bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder.

Which means that today marks the 2 year anniversary of my real journey to getting better.

I'm not even really sure what I want to say about this, but I feel like I should say something.

First and foremost, I can't believe it was two years ago that I got help but that it's only been about 8 months-ish that I've actually been really, truly better.  I still feel a little bit ashamed of that, but at the same time, better late than never.  I never expected things to go the way they did but I never expected getting better to be easy, either.

Corey took me to that first appointment.  I remember shaking like a leaf the whole way there because I was so nervous; I think he took my hand and said a prayer for me before we went into the office.  My doctor turned out to be amazing--smart and competent and willing to really listen--and I was incredibly impressed with him, especially considering we only chose him because he was the first doctor Corey called who took uninsured patients.  I owe a lot to my doctor.

That appointment lasted an hour and a half and cost $235.  I paid some, Corey paid some, Jerbs paid some, and my mom paid some--it was definitely a group effort to get me there.

My head is still fuzzy so I think I'll just say thank you.  I owe thank yous to a lot of people in this but there's one in particular I feel like getting off my chest tonight . . . I'll write out the rest later, when my head's clear.

Thank you Corey, for finding me a good doctor and for getting me to that first appointment; thank you for insisting so fiercely that I was worth getting better.  I know that you meant it, and that you wanted me to get better because you loved me.  Even if that's not true now, I know that I wouldn't have gotten help if you hadn't pushed me to, and that I owe a lot of this to you.  I am grateful for your help.  I am also deeply, deeply sorry that you got hurt so much in the process; I hope that you can forgive me for that, and I hope that you know the girl who put you through all that pain and BS is not who I really am.  Regardless of what's happened between us, and regardless of what happens between us in the future, I'll remain grateful.

That's it for tonight.  I need to lie down.

More Mental Shifts

I find that lately (the past two weeks or so) I've been having quite a few positive mental shifts like the one I mentioned before, so I thought I'd write about them.  I am loving this little stage in getting better because it feels like I'm over the hill now, if that makes sense.  Like all the struggling and  trying and treatment is finally really and truly starting to pay off.

I have less social anxiety now, especially when it comes to work.  I used to kind of obsess about how I was being perceived by my co-workers, about how they saw me and how I was doing my job.  I constantly worried that I was rubbing someone the wrong way or irritating someone and there were days when I'd go home and replay conversations from the day over and over in my head.  I don't feel that anymore, or at least not as strongly.  And granted some of that is probably just actually having a good job and good co-workers where I'm respected, but still, my gut tells me that if I'd gotten this job when I was still really sick it would not have gone well.

If anything I now struggle with this in the opposite direction: I have a hard time accepting that nothing's going wrong at work, that my co-workers like me, and that I am trusted to do my job and be competent.  It's an odd feeling.

I'm also better at taking constructive criticism, although I probably still need work in this area.  There are times when I worry that whatever co-worker is telling me to fix something is secretly pissed that I work there.  At the same time I also think that if I was a big problem I'd already have been talked to about it, and they know that I'm still learning.  Still better than I used to be though.

I am less afraid now.  In the past I have definitely been the type to hide from my problems; if it's something I didn't want to deal with, I just didn't deal with it.  I would put off painful conversations, anything to do with bills and money, and anything that made me sad.  I've gotten over this in a big way.  When I need to talk about something now, even if I'm dreading it, I just do it (it's usually nothing big, I just used to be weird!).  I've stopped even giving myself time to hesitate.  Financially, I pay a lot more attention to my money, and I'm in the process of making payments that I was unable to for a long time.  I'm still working on this area because discussions about money just make me nervous, and I still need to sit down and write out a budget but I'm much better than I used to be.  I also take my financial responsibilities seriously, most noticeably in the fact that I've given Jerbs rent money out of every paycheck I've gotten since I started working.  And things that make me sad don't crop up often, but recently, Benji* was in desperate need of a grooming, so I finally sucked it up and shaved him and bathed him.  Grooming him just makes me so sad, because I can feel how frail he is and how old he's getting it, and I hate thinking about how he probably won't be with me much longer.  I think in the past, I wasn't able to put myself through that kind of stuff because I knew that it would always go deeper because I was mentally weak.  But now . . . well, it still made me incredibly sad because I want Benji to live forever (seriously, I love that dog), but it didn't fuck up my life for days.  Benji was pissed at me for a few days (he really hates baths) but whatever.  Basically I was able to do what I had to do and then continue living without over analyzing it or letting it get the best of me, if that makes sense.  In the past I'd have spent a few days moping and crying and beating myself up for being a bad dog owner.

This one is more difficult to explain, but it's also one of the best ones.  I used to have this weird feeling that I was almost outside my own body; like I wasn't invested in my life, but rather was watching from outside it, like I was watching someone else live my life.  It was an odd, odd thing, and it's almost completely gone now.  There are still days when it crops up but I'm definitely at a point where I have an easier time seeing myself in my life and feeling fully engaged than I used to.

I also used to have trouble imagining my future for the same reason.  When I would picture myself down the road, whether it was a month or a year or a decade, I would have this sensation of it just being impossible, like I was, again, on the outside looking in.  I never really knew why this was but I think now that it was because at the time I just literally couldn't conceive of ever being healthy or capable enough to achieve what I was imagining.  This was especially true of my relationship with Corey.  I would imagine us married and living outside of AZ, just being happy together; working and coming home to each other and cooking dinner together and having date nights and going on vacations and so much more, and even though it was beautiful, I also felt very strongly that the woman I imagined doing those things with him just wasn't me.  I felt like I would never, ever be the type of woman who could have that life, that kind of relationship with someone.  But now, that all feels very possible, and when I imagine those things, whether with him or just generally, I genuinely see myself in those moments.  It's beautiful**, and I really, finally believe in the possibility of my own life.

My personal favorite mental shift is that I have stopped having all these weird questions of identity.  I used to spend my days doing nothing because I was so anxious about whether what I wanted to do made sense to my identity.  Like, I'd think, I want to read, or write, or sew, or whatever, and I wouldn't know which one to choose because I didn't know which one was me.  I had no idea who I was (the benchmark of borderline personality disorder), and therefore I felt the need to fit my whole identity into a really concrete definition.  So I'd wonder: am I the type of person who writes? who reads? who sews? who hikes? who whatevers?  It was horrible.  But now, I feel much more relaxed about this, and I realize that I can be a person who does ALL of those things, and that if I go through phases where I prefer one over the other, then that's not a big deal.  I need to do what makes me happy and what I enjoy, period the end.

So I'm doing well.  Very well.  And I love it.
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*Seriously, I love Benji.  I would give anything for him to be healthy again.  If somehow I could make it that way I would.  But he's not doing so hot right now and I try to just focus on the fact that I gave him the best life he could possibly have and saved him from misery and death.  When he passes I'm going to have him cremated, and then when I die, his urn will be buried with me.  I'm also going to get a memorial tattoo for him.

**The only downside of this newfound sense of possibility is that it makes the breakup even more painful.  It sucks to know that I've finally gotten there--like I can finally legit be with someone in a real way--but that the one person I want to be with . . . well, you know.

The Other Side

Did you know that, in the thick of the breakup last May, I threatened to stop all forms of treatment in response to getting dumped?  I very clearly remember saying to Corey, "I can't do this without you.  Getting better isn't worth it if you're not waiting for me on the other side."

I am ashamed to admit how absolutely I meant that at the time.  At that point, I honestly, 100% believed what I was saying, believed that getting better was a waste of time without having something tangible to do it for.  I didn't want to get better for a life I wasn't happy in, if that makes sense, and that was what it felt like: getting better without him was getting better just to go back to something I already disliked.

I'm glad to be able to say now that I was wrong.

Because now, I am on the other side.  And I got to this place without him waiting here, without him doing a thing to help me get here, and it's just as beautiful for it.

Do you know who was waiting for me?  I was.  Me.  Myself.  The real me.  The person I'm supposed to be.  The healthy version of myself.  (And yes, I know how cheesy that is).

This journey has been worth it.  As much as I regret how badly I screwed things up with Corey (I'm going to post about that soon) and as much as I do wish he'd been here to share it with me (because having to do it alone and wanting to do it alone are different things), I have to say that looking back, I really don't know that I could have attained this level of mental health with him in my life.  Which is not to say he was keeping me sick, but more that I really did need to be able to completely focus on myself.

I think deep down I always knew I'd have to do it on my own.  I think I knew that even before Corey came around.  Self reliance has been the most significant thing I've gained from this, and I am grateful for that.

And I have to say that now that I'm here, on the other side, I have no intention of ever going back.

Unmedicated & Miserable

Due to a set of circumstances (some out of my control, some not) I am currently unmedicated.

Basically, I was supposed to get lab work done back in October/November.  Before I could, I accidentally threw out my lab orders (I am a genius).  I called my doctor a few times, and since his receptionist NEVER answers the phone, I left messages, asking him to please fax the lab orders to Staples.  I left the fax # a few times and the orders never came.  And then I got distracted by the holidays and all that so . . . yeah.  I called the office yesterday morning and left another message along the same lines, and Jerbs overheard me and promptly informed me that I'd been reversing two of the numbers in the fax number . . . which explained why I'd never gotten a fax from my doctor in November.  So I called back with the right number (also via message) and hopefully when Jerbs goes back to work tomorrow the fax will be waiting for her so I can get my labs done.  Because no labs=no refills on my Lithium, which is why I'm currently out.  I requested a refill online hoping that I could maybe get some before I get the labs done, but that's unlikely.  Worse case scenario I'll have to wait until my next Dr.'s appt. on the 16th to get meds.

Anyway, I am freaking miserable.  I just feel like crap.  It's started to get really bad over the past couple of days.  I can feel my mind getting manic, I can feel myself panicking over little things, I can't focus, I can't sleep, I have headaches, the tension in my forehead has come back with a vengeance, the little OCD things I have are getting worse, I'm getting progressively more irritable . . . it sucks.  Suuuuucks.  I'm struggling just to get through the days right now and I really, really hate it.  Jerbs has commented that she's noticed a significant change in me.

I can't believe I used to live like this.  I can't believe this used to be my normal.  Every time I lapse in treatment I realize how much the treatment is helping me.  I'm very, very angry at myself that this lapse has happened, but . . . I honestly tried, and I know that there's nothing about it that was deliberate.  It's just frustrating.

Hopefully this will be the last lapse.  That's my goal, anyhow.  Once I get my Li refill this month, I am NOT going to let my treatment drop again.
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EDIT 01/06:  Amazing how things work when you give people the correct information!  My lab order was waiting for Jerbs at Staples today.  I'm going to make like 7 copies of it so that I always have a backup!  So that's one hurdle cleared . . . now I have to figure out the financial part . . . yikes.

Confessions & Some Self Shaming

For the past week or so, I have felt compelled to think about, in great detail, some of my worst behavior during my relationship with Ex-Fiance.  Some of the meanest and most ridiculous things I said and did to him that ultimately contributed to our relationship ending.

I honestly believe that recognizing these things and seeing them from a more mentally healthy perspective is something that I was meant to do during this time of self improvement.  I needed to realize that I was truly horrible, and not just here and there, but over and over and over again.  And I think I finally have.  I mean, objectively, I've always known that I wasn't the best girlfriend/fiance but I feel like for the first time, I've seen it through something closer to his eyes.  And it's not pleasant.  Not in the least.  I feel so ashamed and disgusted with myself.

Since I finally feel like I get it, I thought a way to make peace with it, in some way, would be to put it out there.  To get it off my chest.  Let people know that I'm horrible.  I think it's a really concrete way of acknowledging how wrong I was and admitting to my mistakes.  The worst things are tied to very private matters so I won't share those out loud . . . but these are some of the worst of the shareable ones.
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If I wanted to have sex and he didn't, I freaked out and gave him the silent treatment.  He told me at one point that he was afraid to say no.  (This got better once we lived together but still).

Once in Kingman, Gatsby, one of our cats, peed in my bathroom sink.  And instead of calmly cleaning it out I completely melted down, and screamed and cried and caused a huge fight.

Moving to Kingman and being in a new place was hard on me, and I would often stay up crying, go out driving when we had no gas in the car, etc.

I routinely made plans to leave him in my head.  When we came back to Flag a few weeks after we moved to help Jerbs move I told her beforehand that I was staying with her.  Then in November I did the same thing, and planned to leave.

When I wasn't planning to leave I'd threaten to move into the NERD room (our spare bedroom).  Once I started throwing my clothes in there while bawling . . . don't even remember why.

Once when we were first in Kingman we went to see a movie at the theatre in Laughlin.  All was good and fine and we were having a nice time until Ex-Fiance didn't offer to buy/ask me if I wanted a drink or popcorn or anything.  I didn't speak to him during the movie and I spent the whole time thinking about how inconsiderate and horrible he was.  I was a total bitch as we were leaving too.

When he lived in Chinle and I lived in Flagstaff, I routinely insinuated that I didn't know if a long distance thing was worth it.  I also would frequently--and really for no reason--stop speaking to him.  Just ignore his calls and texts altogether.  There really was never a reason for it.

I'd say nasty things online about him.  Specifically on Twitter.  I'd tweet about being disappointed in him and stuff and he'd always end up seeing it--it was so hurtful and awful of me.

The summer he lived with Jerbs and me and worked at Office Max, I'd always be in a bad mood when he came home.  And I never understood why because all day I'd miss him and look forward to him coming home, then he'd get there and I'd totally shut down, and either lash out at him or completely ignore him.

There's a lot more, but some of it's private and also, I'm just kind of making myself sick writing these down.  Suffice it to say I was pretty damn awful.
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Yep.  That was me.  That was what Ex-Fiance put up with almost every single day.  I'm not saying we didn't have some genuinely good times, because we definitely did.  We definitely definitely did.  But still, I was never very good.

There really is no excuse for all of that behavior.  I think my mind was just such a mess over being in a relationship and things changing that it completely rebelled and the mental illness constantly tried to sabotage the thing that could have made me better.  Not that that is in any way a defense.

What I can say now is that I look back on those things, and I truly feel like I do not recognize that person.  I do not know the girl who did those things, who acted that way.  I remember, though, how that girl's head felt, and I shudder at the thought of what a freaking mess I was.

And I can say, too, that I'm better now.  That I am profoundly different from who I was then.  Mentally I am functioning in a completely different, much better way.  My thought processes are not remotely the same.  Sure, I still have my bad days, but my worst now hasn't been as bad as I was then.  With consistent treatment (Lithium/Paxil) and some breathing room, I have truly gotten better.  I know that people (Jerbs and my family) can see a positive difference in me, but I can't even begin to describe the complete change within my mind.  It's amazing.

I know that the now me would never, ever do those things within a relationship.  I really do.  And I know that if I were to get a second chance, I would be so grateful.

Either way, I will use this as a learning experience.  What I've learned is how not to act in a relationship you expect to succeed, and how very important it is to stick to my treatment, because it does really help.  I've learned not to take love for granted.

And should I decide I don't want to be single forever, I know that I'll be able to be mentally healthy for my next partner, and that I'll be able to be a kind, comforting, stable partner for them.

And even if I do stay single, I am now mentally healthy for myself.  And I know now how much better I can be when I'm healthy.  That's the most important thing, I think.  Before I've always used others as the inspiration to get better (my family, Austin, Jerbs, and of course, Ex-Fiance) but now I want to get better and stay better for myself.

Six Months & An Evaluation

Today it's been six months since Ex-Fiance told me he didn't think we should get married.
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I remember that moment very well.  What was said, how it sounded, what he looked like as he was saying it.  It's hard to put into words what I felt when that happened.  I was shocked because even though I knew things weren't good, I really wasn't expecting it.  As time passed and I decided to go back to Flagstaff and I packed my things and quit my job and I realized that all of those things were really happening, I don't think it's an understatement to say that I felt like my life had done a complete 180 overnight.  I was beyond devastated and completely heartbroken.  I spent a lot of time crying--randomly bursting into tears at work, crying any time I saw or spoke to Austin, crying whenever I looked at Ex-Fiance.  I felt so lost and so . . . out of place.  The last two and a half weeks that I was in Kingman Ex-Fiance and I started to reconnect a little, and that was a blessing.  I left at least knowing that he didn't hate me and that he did still have some feelings for me.  I dreaded coming back to Flagstaff in a way that I had never dreaded anything before.  Flagstaff was, in my mind, a place of intense negativity, where a whoooole lot of bad things had happened to me, and I thought, I will never, ever, ever get better there.  The day we left for Flagstaff was impossibly difficult for me, because I honestly felt like I was losing my whole life--Ex-Fiance, my parents, my sisters, Austin, my job/co-workers, my car, my gym, a house that I loved, my pets, bell choir, orchestra . . . everything.
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Now it's been six months.  Six months since the break up and almost five months since I got back to Flagstaff.

There's a part of me that can't believe it's been this long.  For half of a year, I've been single.  It's so odd to think that because I really thought, when I got engaged, that I'd never be single again.  I also can't believe I came back to Flagstaff, because after I struggled so hard to leave this place behind, I didn't think life would ever, ever bring me back here.

So six months in, how am I doing?

Surprisingly well.  I'm honestly shocked at how well I've done since I got to Flagstaff.  I thought I'd be a complete mess.  I thought I'd get here and be completely unable to function.

But that hasn't been the case.

I've adjusted to taking the bus very well, and instead of thinking all the time about how much I want a car, taking the bus is just second nature.  I've started eating a little better and drinking more water and I've lost a few pounds.  I've held down a job as well as I could for as long as I could and am actively looking for another.  I've worked out.  I've written two short stories.  I've watched TV and slept and played video games and hung out with Jerbs and . . . well, I've lived my life.  And I have taken my medication nearly every.single.day. and I have seen the improvement that comes with it.  I've made peace with Jerbs and all the things that happened between us.

I feel like I'm doing much, much better right now than I was six months ago.  Mentally, I'm night and day.  I am so much healthier now.  SO much healthier.  I really can't even express the difference in my thought processes and the things I can deal with now.  I'm just so much more at home in my own mind.  I finally feel like myself, for the first time in years.  It's amazing.  And honestly, if I had to go through all that heartbreak to finally get to a place of real mental health, then . . . then I'm OK with that.  Because what I have needed all along was just to get better.  I feel like I've accomplished that since I got here.  Do I still have a ways to go? Absolutely.  But I'm a hell of a lot closer to my end goals than I've ever been.

Since the move I've found my own inner strength, and I am amazed by it.  I never thought I'd be this person. Back in 2009/2010 at the height of my disorder I never thought I'd get better.  I started to believe that I was just supposed to be sick, that I wasn't meant for a real, normal life like other people.  And now I know how untrue that is, and I am so happy with myself.  I really am.

The thing is, I know I still have a lot to work on and a lot to do to get where I want to be.  But the thing is, I'm OK with that now.  I feel like that's DOABLE.  I feel like I can work towards those goals and . . . y'know, meet them, I suppose.  Before, if I'd been where I am now, I'd be panicking about it.  Panicking and worrying about everything I wanted to do and struggling to figure out how to do it.  But now I feel OK with the journey, and that's a beautiful change in myself.
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So how do I feel about Ex-Fiance after six months?

In short, I still love him.  I still feel like my heart is his, and I still believe that at some point, we need to have a conversation about us.

I still want a second chance and I still think that we could make things work between us if we tried.  I still hope for that.  I think that eventually it's going to happen, and I am trying to just be patient until it does.  And I'm at a point where I feel really ready to talk things out; I feel like I'd be able to have that conversation now without freaking out or anything like that.
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At any rate, I think that from here I'm only going to keep getting better, and that makes me happy.

Struggles and Stuff

I now know for sure that my full body soreness is just from my POS air bed.  For the past few weeks Jerbs has been offering to let me have her bed for a night and I keep declining because . . . I don't really know.  This morning I woke up as she was leaving, and I felt like crap.  I was so sore, and I'd slept maybe 2 hours the whole night, so I figured, what the hell.  I threw her blankets and pillows on my bed and moved mine over to hers, and I crashed.  I crashed hard.  I fell asleep basically as soon as I layed down and I didn't fully wake up until my alarm went off.  When I got up my hips didn't hurt and my back didn't hurt . . . glorious.
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Remember how I was talking about feeling like a failure and now knowing how to get out of that feeling?  Well, the thing is, I know what I need to do to fix it.  I know what I need to do to fix myself.  I have a whole list of self improvement goals right here on this blog.  And at one point  I was really determined to do all of those things.  But I get to points where I feel so behind that there's really no point in trying to improve.  What's the point of becoming the best version of myself now when I've already wasted so much of my life?  I'm 27 years old and have really done nothing with my life, and honestly, the thought of trying now and being determined now just seems pathetic and stupid.  I don't know how to shake that feeling of pointlessness in getting better.  Hopefully this has something to do with my low Li levels.
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I got my Lithium today.  Which is good.
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Tomorrow is the deadline to a short short story contest I'd been hoping to enter and unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish a writing project for it.  I'm disappointed because I had a few good ideas in mind and this contest had a big prize but . . . oh well, I suppose.
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After I wrote out that entry about giving up as far as Ex-Fiance is concerned I got to thinking about the whole setting a deadline thing and I started to wonder if I was right.  I know that I screwed up in our relationship too and I don't think his needing time/space is surprising or unreasonable.  And maybe it's unfair of me to say, be better by this date or it's not happening at all.  One of my goals was to let him get better while I did . . . and who am I to dictate how long that'll take?**  At the same time, I'd feel totally differently if I'd had any indication of how he was doing during this time apart.  As it is I stand by what I said.  New Years Eve.  If nothing's happened by then the new year will be my new start.  Then again, who knows?  Maybe I'm not even going to give it til then.
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I think what I'm struggling with most is just that something that meant so much and was such a big part of my life could be . . . just nothing.  Y'know?  Like . . . I can't even really put into words how strongly I felt about him.  And how much I really did believe that I'd spend the rest of my life with him.  And I know Ex-Fiance felt that way too and it just kind of blows my mind that it went from that to nothing.  And that eventually, he'll marry someone else and that'll be his real future, and that I'll end up . . . well,  somewhere else at least.  It kills me and it makes me wonder how we ever get over anything at all and what the point of love ever really is.  I know that sounds jaded and more like a Taylor Swift song than something anybody actually thinks but . . . I kinda do.  More than anything I realize now that I never, ever, ever want to put myself in a position where I can get hurt like this again.  Ever.  Which means that as much as I love the idea of soul mates and romance and true love, I'll probably spend the rest of my life single.  And if I avoid this ever happening again it'll be worth it.  Besides, I can't just turn strong feelings like that on and off and fall in and out of love; it's all too much for me, I think, so the dating scene really will never be my thing.
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**I know it always comes across like Ex-Fiance has all the power in this situation--like whatever happens between us is going to be at his say.  And in a way right now that's true.  But only because I feel like my cards have been on the table since the very beginning.  I've made it clear since the break up happened that I want to get back together, whereas he's been the one who was unsure.  (Well, not unsure, but you know what I mean).
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In a way I've started to feel like it never happened.  And that's really disconcerting.  In the time since I've been in Flag I've (obviously) thought a lot about Ex-Fiance, and usually the thoughts give me . . . well, feelings, I guess.  Like remembering happy things either makes me happy or sad, flashing back to the breakup itself pisses me off, imagining him moving on with someone new makes me anxious.  And now . . . now it feels like just nothing.  Like when I think of him, whether it's about good or bad, I have no strong feelings either way.  Just indifference.  And granted I've been feeling pretty indifferent towards my whole life right now, so maybe that'll all dissipate once I'm re-medicated.  But it's what I'm dealing with at the moment.

Torn & Displaced

Torn and displaced.  Two words that I realized, today, describe how I've been feeling pretty accurately.  And I'm not just talking about the funk of the past couple days, I'm talking about the overall way I've felt since I came back to Flag and all that.

Torn.  Torn between lives, I feel.  On the one hand, I want to go back to where I was before--to Kingman, to Corey, to that life.  I want to incorporate the things I know I want now (like grad school) with that life.  On the other hand, I want to live only this new life; go on to wherever I want, start fresh, find myself all over again.

I don't know.  Early this morning we had a store meeting and when it was over, a co-worker gave me a ride home.  This particular co-worker is a cute, young guy, who I really enjoy talking to.  We have similar views on a lot of things and . . . and he's really cute.  There is no relationship potential there, though, and even if he was interested it couldn't happen.  He's just too young (22 . . . younger than Corey) and he's still figuring out what he wants to do with his life, and I'm past the point of being willing to wait for someone to do that, if that makes sense.  I mean, he's a great guy and a gentleman (guys who open car doors for you even if they're already in the car themselves always get points with me).  But he's the kind of guy I'd probably go out with if circumstances were different.  And as he was driving me home and we were chatting I was thinking of what that might be like, and I was thinking of how there is this small part of me that wants to move on as far as Corey is concerned.  A small part of me wants to be finished with him, to let it go and get over it and let myself be open to someday being with someone new.

Later, after I was at home, I was thinking back to our conversation and the trip home, and I remembered that he had taken Soliere.  And all of a sudden I flashed back to the first night I hung out with Corey, the night before our first date, and I remembered that he had taken me home via Soliere too--because he wanted to extend our time together and wasn't ready to say good night.  And just like that I was very aware of the even bigger part of me that is completely not ready to move on.

Displaced.  Displaced because I don't really feel like I belong anywhere right now, like I'm not sure where my place is.

I don't have a real home right now.  I'm crashing with Jerbs, and most of my things are in boxes in a different city.  There's really not a place for me right now.  It's not something that really overwhelms me or anything, but it is frustrating.  I would like to have a place that feels like home and where I can unpack and feel like I'm living, y'know?  I feel like if I had that it would make other things easier (like settling down to read or write or work on grad school).  I would be far more comfortable.

I tell myself that someday it'll happen.  Someday I'll have my own place or a place with someone I love; someday I won't feel caught in the middle of things; someday things will have shaken out.

Still In A Funk

So I'm still in kind of a funk.

It's been a bit better yesterday/today but I'm still just feeling . . . kind of off.  I really don't know how else to describe it.

I'm not overwhelmed by any one emotion--I'm not super sad or really anxious or really worried or really guilty.  But I still feel like my mind is doing some odd things at the moment.  I think it's a little bit of everything: I'm a little sad, a little anxious, a little worried, a little guilty, a little lost.  Which all kind of adds up to just feeling off.

I don't like it.  I want it to stop.  I especially don't like it because I've been doing so well with my meds.  It's unsettling to feel this way when I'm doing the things that usually help, y'know?  It worries me.

But I think a lot of this is just the time of year, generally speaking.

Plus hormones.  I think the past few days have been PMS.  Because my period started yesterday (TMI, I know) and I feel better.

Hopefully I'll snap out of this soon.

Wednesday + Thursday

Yesterday was another good day at work.  Seriously, two in a row?  What are the odds?

I'm not complaining, I'm just surprised.

So yesterday, at work, I was scheduled 9:00 AM--12:15 PM.  I was really looking forward to the short day, and I was definitely going to come home and take a nap afterwards.  But the girl who was supposed to come in from noon to 5:00 called in with a migraine and without even thinking about it, I agreed to stay late.  And I did end up there until about 5:00, and we had a great day.  It was just myself and one of the TL's up front and we goofed around the whole day.  It flew by and by the time it was 5:00, even though I'd been there for 8 hours, I definitely didn't feel like it.

Here's why this is significant: Normally, I do not work extra hours.  I very rarely agree to cover shifts for people (seriously, I only do it if the co-worker asking is someone I really like).  I am especially disagreeable if I end up having to work extra hours when I'm not expecting it and my plans change because of it.  I just absolutely hate being asked to work when I'm not supposed to.  But yesterday I felt none of that.  I was glad to stay and help (seriously, I was) and I had a good time being there.  And I think that's, at least in part, a result of me getting better mental health wise, and it's good to know that getting better is having a positive effect on my life.  Because yesterday, I helped out my co-workers, I got an extra 4 hours of pay, and I got to meet up with Jerbs for dinner since she was getting off at four.  And it's nice to have a big reminder that the medication is helping and all that . . . it makes me feel a little better about the expensive doctor's appointment on Tuesday.  Plus after dinner we went to JoAnn's, where all the Halloween stuff was 60% off . . . Jerbs bought me 5 pairs of Halloween socks!!

Then today was pay day, and my check was bigger than I expected--which is always awesome!  Plus I was off, and so was Jerbs, so we went out and hit PetSmart, Sally's, JoAnn's, Burrito Fiesta, Hastings, and Target.  We bought nail polish at Sally's (go figure, right?) and then played with kitties at PetSmart.  Then we went across the street to JoAnns, because we didn't buy enough Halloween stuff yesterday; Jerbs got black feather wings and I got 6 more pairs of socks.  (Yes, I have a sock problem, and I love it!).  After JoAnn's we had dinner at Burritos Fiesta, this amazing Mexican fast food type place (incidentally, also where we ate last night).  It is so.effing.good.  And cheap, too, which is always nice.  We popped into Hastings and bought a few things (Jerbs likes to take advantage of my employee discount when she can), then went to Target, where we mostly looked at clothes.

And now we're home, relaxing and stuff.  All in all, a great day.

I work tomorrow so hopefully it goes as well as my past two shifts have!

Dr., Work, Other Stuff

Soooo let's see.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my psychiatrist.  I was absolutely dreading it, because I was afraid of getting yelled at for not having come in sooner, it's incredibly expensive and I hate paying so much for something that shouldn't be so pricey, there's not a bus stop very close to it so it was quite a walk, and I didn't want to get up early (9:30 appointment=catching the bus at 8:33).  But it's a necessity so . . . I went.

I didn't get chewed out for not coming in sooner.  My doctor was shocked and sympathetic when I told him about the breakup, and proud at how well I've handled things.  The bad news, however, is that when I got my labs in August, apparently my TSH (thyroid stuff) came back high, which I guess can happen when you're on Lithium (yay).  So he pretty much said I need to follow up with my PCP (I don't have a PCP, incidentally) and see what's going on and whatnot.  He said if it is a thyroid issue I can either just treat that with a thyroid medicine or change mood stabilizers.  I said I'd rather treat, and I actually got pretty emotional about the thought of changing my Lithium.  I told him I remember how bad it was and I don't want to go back to how I used to live, that I didn't want to take steps backwards.  He understood, so I have a lab order to get my TSH test done again (hopefully tomorrow) and then we'll see what happens with that.  If it's still high I'll follow up at a clinic, if it's normal (which I'm SO hoping it will be) we'll just be done with the issue.

(Can I just say that I love my psychiatrist?  He is amazing.  We just click, and I am so incredibly grateful that we found him.  Honestly, we only chose him because he was the first psychiatrist we called who accepted uninsured patients, and I think it was divine intervention.  I feel so well cared for with him.  I never feel judged, and he's just very . . . easy to talk to.  We never talk just about my issues--for example, at this appointment, he complimented my Halloween nails and we talked about Etsy.  He's such a nice man, too, and I love how intelligent he is.  Besides just being a smart guy, he loves what he does and is genuinely passionate about psychiatry and helping his patients, and that shows.  Love him.)

After my appointment Jerbs and I had breakfast at Biff's Bagels downtown.  A.may.zing.  I'd never been there before and I was impressed.  Then Jerbs went to work and I came home for a little while, before I went to work.

Surprisingly enough, work was actually pretty good.  I cashiered for a couple hours and then did a "membership drive" for a couple hours.  It was a good crew working and we had a lot of fun, and I actually found myself thinking, several times, that I was ENJOYING my job.

Lately night time bus rides home have been fun because there's a house along the bus route (on Fox Lair) that's already decorated for Christmas.  And this isn't like they forgot to take their decorations down this past January, this is legit decorated for Christmas.  It's weird but I LOVE it.

So at the moment, life is decent.