I'm nothaving a good night tonight at all. For some reason the depression seemed to get worse over the course of the day, maybe because of lack of good sleep? But here I am again at midnight writing a blog on feeling awful instead of trying to sleep… Actually I already tried that once and it didn't work for me so I got up and made myself some hot cocoa and came out to gaze at the stars for awhile. Tonight though they only make me feel small and insignificant, empty and distant from any purpose or hope. Tonight is a waking nightmare for me.

I was busy all day…taught a violin lesson this morning, went and visited my in-laws and then did our shopping rounds. By the time we got home it was after 4 p.m. and I laid down to try to nap; but nothing happened other than getting aggravated that I couldn't sleep still. At a little after 5 I gave up and started working on dinner with my husband and talked with a friend on the phone for awhile, but I didn't feel like discussing my feelings with her ~ her plate is full enough with the problems she's dealing with herself.

I wish I could just cry and sob really hard and fall asleep afterwards. That usually helps in some manner. But the tears won't come. Just this horrible aching emptiness that I can't fill. I don't want to be touched, it just irritates me right now. I need to talk, but I can't find the words other than to say I'm in a bad place. It's like the bottom has dropped out and I'm clinging to a ledge and trying to keep my grip; but it's slipping. How long have I got before I fall in, or am I able to pull myself over the edge again? I don't know, and I'm scared.

Maybe the Abilify is not such a good choice for me. It seems like since I've been on it I've cycled 3 times now between hypomania and depression and it hasn't been a month yet. Ineed to call my doctor I guess. Or I can hold on until I see him in early December. He's extremely busy and he told me to give it a month at least to see how I do. But so far I'm not doing very well. Don't get me wrong, the hypomania is a wonderful feeling; but it's so dangerous because you lose alot of inhibitions that you normally have. Like spending money, or saying yes to everything, or drinking when you normally don't. And the stronger the hypomanic episode is, the worse the drop is afterwards.I don't know what the bestchoicetomake is. Wait, or not towait?

One of the thingsthat really upset me tonight was getting to seevideos and hearmy son in his first few months of life. For those that don't know me, Ialmost died while pregnant with him and havingmy first severe mixedepisode (psychosis, no sleep, not eating, not able to be alone atall), and then afterwards I ended up in the ER a weekafterwe were sent home and was in the hospital for a week. That weekwas when we discovered that I was mentally ill and needed meds. So anyhow, I don't remember much of my son's first few weeks ormonths even. I was on powerful drugs and all I could do was sleep or fall apart. I was only ocassionally well enough tohold him and spend time feeding him or playing withhim. So to see videos ofmy son being held by others while I lay in the hospital somewhere betweenlife and death (blood pressure was out of this world AND the mental illness) made me so sad and so angry. I should have been the one to do those things with him. I should have been there to hold him and see his first smiles and change hisdiapers and feed him. And to see strangers even touching him made me want to vomit. I gave my sanity and almost my life to bring my son into the world, and it feels like at the worst time in my life he belonged more to everyone elsethan he did to me.

Iknow I shouldn't feel that way, that it wasfamily trying to help andhis grandparents showing him off (or one specific one anyhow) to friends, but why didn't you bring him to my hospital room instead so I could at least touch him orlet him hold mypinky fingerwith his tiny fists? I could havefed him a bottle and maybe that would havehelpedme, and him. Maybe seeing mynewbornchild would have given mereason to hope or fight to get better sooner; who knows? As it was I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and letgo ofthis life. Ifelt as if the hell I hadgone through survivingthe pregnancy and his birth was enough ~I could go home where there was no more pain or fear or sadness bigger than the world. What did they have to lose by allowing me to see him? I wasn't adanger to anyone, not even myself. I was too weak to evensit upon my own.What danger would I pose to him, especiallywith a nurseand family sitting in the room with me?

And now he's about to turn7 next month, and I wonderhow it all went by so fast. I don't remember most of the first 2 years~ I was that mentally ill. I know I was there and cared for him, but my memories are mostlyfog and smoke. And to behonest I have been sick since I got past the first trimester of that pregnancy, still to this day. I will neverhave another childnaturally or biologically and that breaks my heart. One day I hope to adopt, but I'm bipolar so who's going to allow me to? Not many agencies that I know of.

I don't know what else to say. My heart feels like it's been shredded to pieces. I need to try to make myself sleep. A sleeping pill might help. My husband's upset because I won't sleep with him in our bed tonight, but I just need to be alone. He doesn't understand. I wish I could help him to. Things are so messed up right now, and the sad thing is that I know it's all me ~ inside of my brain; chemicals at war with one another, flooding certain signals from synapse to synapse and creating overload, and completely cutting off flow to others. How do I fight that? How do I gain control over that? I've been on meds for 7 years now, and still I'm pretty sick. So when does it get better, and do the medicines even really work?

2 Comments
  1. ancientgeekcrone 8 years ago

     "I'll try again tomorrow."

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  2. SaltWaterDrinker 8 years ago

     Oh, Keya.  That's some heavy stuff.  (((Hugs))), dear friend.

    I had no idea that pregnancy, parturition and the postpartum stuff had been such an ordeal for you.  That week in the ER sounds particularly awful.  I've never been hospitalized, yet I've been in medical contexts where I feel like I am not being considered as a whole being, not being listened to–it's demeaning and infuriating. It certainly sounds as though you didn't get the most compassionate care, though I am sure that the parties involved had good intentions.  I do think they should have let you see Zachary.  I can understand why that still eats at you.

    Your story puts me me in mind–just a bit–of my mom's Uncle Mike.  His daughter was born during WWII, when he was overseas.  He didn't see her until she was almost 3, so there was none of that infant-parent bonding.  Anyway, he came home, took one look at his kid, and she one look at him, and that was it: total love.  

    I don't know why I bring this up, exactly.  I am certainly not trying to talk you out of your hurt.  You lost precious time and you have every right to grieve for it.   Still, as rare as that time was, and as hyped in parenting books, what comes before it (bearing the child) and what  comes after (raising it) are so much more significant. Despite whatever complications your body cooked up, you still brought your son into the world, and from what I can tell, you are a hell of a mom now.  Take some pride in that.

    As for the rest of it–the feeling of cognitive misfires, of words that leap away from one another like unipolar magnets, of overwhelm and loneliness–ah, I get it totally.

    In your place, I would talk to my doctor.  I know you're supposed to give meds a shot but, well, it seems to me that you have.  That's a lot of ups and downs.

    Hugs to you, K.  And good luck.

    Xo,

    A.

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