I Hate This Disorder (Bad Deb Day)

Hey, y'all--

I was just on bipolarcentral.com, and saw what was written as the advertisement for this blog, and the part about my sharing the "ups and downs" of living with BP caught my eye. I tend to forget about that in the day to day part of this thing. I haven't been on here in a few days, because I have been more on the "down" side of things, just getting by myself. I like to get on here and dispense these wonderful pearls of wisdom to help y'all, but sometimes, well, like I wrote the other day, there are just those "sucks to be me" days anyway! We all have them. Believe it or not, even people who DON'T have BP get depressed from time to time! It just seems so much harder for us, maybe because we are so much more aware of it, I don't know.

These days I am cycling in and out, and that does not make Michele a happy camper. Although the peaks and valleys are not as high and low as they were, they are still there, even with the best of medication. I had hoped that with stability would come cure. I know, I know, a fairy tale, to be sure. But we can still dream, can't we? And in the meantime, we live each day, each hour, each moment, the best we can, and make the sweetest lemonade we can make with the lemons we have to work with! Ok, so some days the lemons are sweet, some days they are sour, and some days they are just plain rotten! But we do the best we can. It's all we can do.

Ok, so explaining the title of today's entry... Some of you know, but some of you are new to this blog and don't know, so I'll tell you. My sister's name was Debi. She was 3 years younger than me, but I called her the twin of my heart. She had BP like me, but last summer she went off her medications, and this past April she shot herself. When she died, she almost took me with her. It felt like half my heart had been cut out of my body. I even had chest pains and problems breathing for a while. Emotionally I was devastated. I went into an episode myself. I wanted to die. I was so angry--at her, at God, at life. I especially hated people who told me that eventually things would get better--that life would go on. Life would never go on for me, I thoroughly convinced myself. My sister was not only my best friend, but she was the only person in the whole world who I knew loved me. The only person. And without her, there was no love in my life at all. There was no anything. Nothing good. Nothing bad. Just nothing. Only this huge, gaping hole, where Debi used to be. I never thought I would be able to go on without her. I never wanted to.

But the people who said eventually I would be able to go on without my sister were right. Eventually I went one whole day without falling to pieces, without crying all day and wanting to die. Then two days. Then three. Then a whole week. Then two weeks. Now it's been four months. Suicide is no longer an option for me--I have a 15 year old son to whom I am an ONLY parent (his dad died a year ago this Sept). But for two whole months after Deb died, only my body was alive--my heart and mind were nowhere to be found here on this earth; they were with my sister, the twin of my heart.

When I met David Oliver and got involved with bipolarcentral.com, I found a reason for living again. I found a way to make Deb's death count for something. I help so many people now--I tell her story, as much of it and as often as I can, so that other people with BP will understand how devastating this illness can be--both for the one who has it and for the loved one... so that the sufferer who is thinking about suicide as a way out will think again when they read about all the pain my sister's death caused her husband, her sister, and her family, those left behind... so that those people with BP will think twice about going off their medication, knowing that they may become one of the statistics, the 20% who WILL (not MAY) kill themselves from BP.

So I say all that to say this. I have days now, that I call "Bad Deb Days", that seem to come completely out of the blue, that pierce my heart like a sword, and I bleed my loss all over my living room carpet and anyone who dares to stand close enough to me... and my sobs wrack my body, until I just cannot cry any more, and the pain is bone deep, crushing my very spirit, and I feel so very lost and alone without my sister, my best friend, the twin of my heart... and I wish that I had just one more day with her, just one more day, had just one more chance with her, just one more chance, to tell her that I love her, to ask her to get help, to plead with her to hang on, to beg her to go back on her medication--ANYTHING, just anything...anything, to keep her with me for just one more moment. I would have done anything in the world not to lose her. But I couldn't do anything. Nothing. The saddest part of all is that NO ONE COULD DO ANYTHING TO HELP HER. NO ONE COULD STOP HER FROM KILLING HERSELF. And that is the saddest part of all. That is why I cry today. That is why my pain is so sharp it threatens to pull me under. Because of the very helplessness of it all. The truth is, my baby sister, my love, my twin, my heart, my life... killed herself because she made a decision to stop taking her BP medications. And she made a decision to stop listening to the doctors and her loved ones. And she made a decision to not accept the help that was offered her. And she made a decision to buy a gun and take her own life.

My Debi, my sweet, sweet, baby sister...killed herself. And there was nothing I or anyone else could do to stop her. And today on this Bad Deb Day, I am furious! I am furious, because I hate this disorder with everything that is within me. If it was a living entity, something outside my body, I would take the gun my sister held, and I would shoot it to death, and keep shooting, and keep shooting, until someone would have to pry that gun out of my fingers, because of the absolute wrath that I feel, for the lives this disorder has stolen, the lives that this disorder has destroyed, the marriages this disorder has ruined, the relationships this disorder has beaten to a pulp until there is nothing left. I hate this disorder with everything there is within me. It killed my sister. But I will be damned if it will kill me.

Michele

Bad Bipolar Day

Hey, y'all--
In the interests of honesty, I have to tell you about the day I had yesterday, because my last post was so upbeat and positive, and I didn't want y'all to think I was just oh so perfect and you aren't, or that I don't have the same struggles that you have or anything (yeah, right). Because yesterday it just plain sucked to be me. Sorry about the crudeness, but I just can't say it any better.

First I take Tyler with me to the car insurance place, as he's 15 and has his permit now, and they tell me on the phone the other day that he now has to be listed as a household member, but (and this is key, here) it WON'T cost me anything to do this. OK, so $270 and double my monthly premium later...well, you get the picture...mental images of the psych. hospital intake worker sugar-sweetly asking me, "Are you homocidal?" running through my head...my hands involuntarily moving up from my sides toward this woman's neck...

So now I find I have to follow my own advice about anger management before I end up in mental illness court myself, so I begin to deep breathe until I find the creature's (oops, excuse me, the insurance agent's) head return to normal size...and tell her that no way can I afford that money, that the agent over the phone had told me this would not cost me anything, etc. Ok, now this gets good...

Now the Geico commercial slogan starts going through my head (seriously!), and I ask her, "Am I being rated for anything?" (thinking of what I will have to tell Geico when I call them), and she tells me I am rated FOUR POINTS for accidents that happened on Jan. 2 and Jan. 9 of this year. I look at Tyler. He looks at me. We both look at the agent. And my head looks like one of those cartoon characters whose face turns red and inflates like a balloon and blows steam out its ears, as I say, "WHAT???" and I find out I have been rated and (over)charged for something that NEVER HAPPENED!!! Oh, and the best part is, this has been going on since I renewed my policy IN FEBRUARY!!!

So, you can imagine how, in my calm, cool, and collected way (NOT!) I straightened out the situation. Ok, this is what I really did--I did say to her (in a menacing tone, but calm), "This is what you are going to do. You are going to call your claims adjuster. And your claims adjuster is going to determine exactly how much I have overpaid from February until, and including today's payment in August. Then your claims adjuster is going to take that money and apply it to the $270 down payment on my son's insurance AND the increased monthly premium, as all of that should be covered. Then you will call me up this afternoon and tell me this has all been done. I will look forward to hearing from you later then." And I gave her a dirty look, stood up, and walked out.

Then we stopped to get Tyler his backpack for school. He had to get a clear, see-through backpack, a requirement in the high school (he is a junior this year). Well, $40 later...

And at that point, the depression hit. Because I looked in my wallet and found that I had a total of $40 left until my next disability check, with 2 whole weeks left in the month. And that $40 has to cover gas and food. And I can't let Tyler know we are that broke, because then he worries. So I have to keep up a good front. But all I want to do is cry, because I am the only parent he has, and I have no way to get more money, and I don't know how we are going to make it, and I feel so alone, and, well, you get the picture. But I can't show any fear in front of him, nor any depression, and certainly not any tears. So I have to stuff all this.

Oh, but the day just got so much better after that...(NOT!) I then had to wait 2 hours at Tyler's school in a line of 20 highschooler's (none of which had their mother with them) just to change one of Tyler's courses. Oh, but there was a counselor who could make "simple" changes right there in the hallway, but he told me this was not a simple change, so we had to wait for the other counselor. 2 hours later, I had had it. I went up to the "simple change" counselor, slapped Tyler's schedule down on the desk in front of him with my hand, causing him to look up, startled, and, using my insurance company's voice, said, "Ok, now, this IS going to be a simple change. You WILL drop my son's physical science course, and you WILL add his chemistry course." I think I may have intimidated him a little. Yeah, maybe just a little (ya think?). He took one look at me, and said, "Yes, I believe I can do that." And made the change.

And, true to form, the day continued to just get better and better, including a migraine, and other wonderful, enjoyable events of that kind. See? Like I said, yesterday it just sucked to be me. It's not that I have forsaken my "new lease on life" that I found because of the motorcycle accident last week, it's just the regular old "bipolar blues" (hey, what a great name for a song!)-- I have a tendency to forget that I myself suffer from the disorder. I enjoy sometimes long periods of stability, so that the depression sneaks up on me and cold-cocks me, sneaking up on me out of nowhere. But that's the nature of the beast. And, just like I tell y'all, I just have to wait it out. And hope and pray that the next day will be better.

So today is the next day. And I woke up. So, that in itself, makes this day better. Because for one thing, I didn't kill myself yesterday, and that's always a plus! I love the lyric from the old hymn that says, "STRENGTH FOR TODAY, BRIGHT HOPE FOR TOMORROW." I will let those words run through my head today and let that lift me up and sustain me. And I will remember that I am not alone. And that somehow I and my son will make it through this month financially, because somehow, we always do. I just have to have faith, and walk in the dark, one step at a time.

One Moment Can Change Your Life Forever

Hey, y'all--
I wanted to tell you what happened to me the other day, because it has changed my life, and altered my thinking forever. I was driving down the main road to my house, letting my mind drift, and was actually feeling sorry for myself (yeah, like that's a new thought!), when I saw what I perceived as a car with its hood exploding on the other side of the street. That's the only way I can describe it. What I didn't see was that the car had actually hit a motorcycle.

I can only tell you that from that second on--I didn't act, I reacted, as if I weren't even in my own body. I immediately pulled over and calmly walked across the street, kneeling down over the body of a young woman and, from the second of impact until the second they put her into the ambulance, I stayed with the girl, doing all the right things and keeping her alive. I don't know why I did what I did, or how I knew what to do what I did. As I said, it was as if I were someone else. And how I stayed so calm, I don't know. But she is alive because of me. Not because I am someone special, and please don't think I am patting myself on the back or anything, because I am certainly not doing that--in fact, just the opposite--I am as amazed as anyone else that this happened, and that it happened the way it did. I think maybe it was God's way of getting my attention. His way of showing me that my problems pale in comparison.

See, this girl just turned 23. She was on her first date with the young man driving the motorcycle that day. It was hit by a woman in a VW bug, who didn't see the motorcycle. This young girl, who just the second before was so full of life and promise, who was a waitress at a restaurant in the UT area of Knoxville...just one moment later had her life completely altered. Because, although she will live, they had to amputate her right leg from just below the knee down.

My dad is a smoker, and has emphysema. He doesn't go to the doctor, because he thinks as long as he doesn't go, he can keep denying he has it. He justifies it and says, "So, I'll die from something sooner or later anyway," and I tell him, "There are worse things than dying. And one of those things is suffering before you die." This accident reminded me of that. See, in my suicidal fantasies, in the one about the car accident, I always thought about dying instantly, problem solved. I never stopped to consider not dying instantly; in fact, living in a coma, or living with a brain injury, living as a vegetable, or living with the fact of knowing I killed someone else in the accident, or knowing I left a young girl with an amputed leg from the knee down.

Again, there are worse things than dying. And one of those things is suffering before you die. Even worse, being responsible for someone else's suffering. Since suicide is such a big issue in bipolar, this is such a revelation, and I want you all to think about it. My sister, as you know, was BP. She committed suicide this past April. She had been in a manic episode for 8 months, because she went off her meds. Yes, she was suffering. And yes, she is at peace now. But she left behind her loved ones, who are still suffering from her decision. My life will never be the same.

I have never felt pain that intense before, and most days I don't think I will ever survive it. She never thought of me. She never even considered how much suffering she would cause me. She only thought of her own pain, and relieving it. Since her death, even though I have still had suicidal thoughts (it's the nature of the BP beast, after all), I immediately stop them in their tracks, remembering how I felt when my sister killed herself. And I think about my sons. And I resolve again that I will never do to them what my sister did to me. NO ONE should feel what I felt. What I still feel. What I will probably always feel.

But the point of all this is this. When my sister killed herself, my life was altered forever. When the girl on the motorcycle was hit by the car, her life was altered forever. I have not been able to shake this thought: IN ONE MOMENT, YOUR LIFE CAN BE CHANGED FOREVER.

That's it. In one moment, your life can be changed forever. What if you postpone that decision to kill yourself just for one more moment? That moment could be the one in which your whole life changes! That could be the moment in which you meet your soulmate. Or that they discover a cure for BP. Or you become pregnant with the child you were unable to conceive before. Or your husband stops having that affair. Or your marital problems are resolved. Or your runaway child comes home. Or you get that raise at work. Or your dream job materializes. Or you achieve your hopes, dreams or wishes. Or you win the lottery. Or...or..or... the list is endless. What if the very next moment was when your miracle would have happened. And you would have missed it.

In AA we say, "DON'T GIVE UP BEFORE THE MIRACLE HAPPENS." Because that miracle may happen in the very next moment. Remember, the very next moment may be the one moment that may change your life forever. Don't give up hope. Even if you have to take that hope one moment at a time.

And always remember this: YOU ARE NOT ALONE. We are all just living one day at a time, one moment at a time.

Michele