I have absolutely no idea how much I'll blog, when I'll blog, or exactly how what I have to say will come out. I tend to be brutally honest and do not mince words. I also tend to be brutally sarcastic and highly opinionated, especially about people who have no compassion for others and think it is "cool" to further torture those psychologically weaker than themselves. While I am a tolerant person in general, I despise those with closed minds (see the paragraph below).
Warning: If you think this is some weird ploy for attention: Please remove your DNA from the gene pool. There are enough people running around this world who are detached from reality and the hardship of others. We do not need any more. Thank you.
The purpose of this blog takes many forms:
- Documentation of the life and thoughts of a severe rapid cycle bipolar (e.g. online journal)
- Educational tool for those poor souls that care for people like me
- A place for me to rant about many things pertaining to mental health care
- An open place for communication, questions which may or may not be answered effectively (it is difficult to explain certain things to non-sufferers in a way that they will understand) and discussions pertaining to mental illness, health care and the hell we go through just to get diagnosed and treated correctly.
- 30 year old female: the two things I go by are The Rage Consumed and Boudicca Gruaim.
- Unemployed, un-insured college student which makes receiving proper care that much more difficult, especially in the shitty American health care setting.
- I am not a doctor or medical professional. I never claim to be one. I offer insight into the the life of mentally ill strictly from the standpoint of someone who suffers.
- I'm rather open and honest. There is no reason to lie, nor is there a reason to hide the problem of mental illness . Hiding and lying about mental illness only perpetuates the stigma and taboo of it. It wasn't that long ago my kind was just put into a cage and given a frontal lobotomy. We cannot forget that. Forgetting the history makes changing the future far more difficult.
- I've been fighting mental illness from the age of 4 (the earliest episodes I remember anyway)
- Severe Rapid Cycle Bipolar
- Childhood Sex Abuse Survivor
- Victim of attempted date-rape. I wonder if his penis ever healed.
- Psychological/Emotional/Physical abuse survivor
- Asshole magnet when it comes to men (which does not help)
- Pretty much the lone wolf, however if trapped in a group I tend to be the one watching everything and everyone, ready to pounce at the hint of trouble and protect the group.
- Highly loyal to those very few I let close. That means physically, mentally, emotionally. If someone of that difficult to attain status needs something I tend to try to get it, though I'm better at listening and defending the person.
- I will ALWAYS fight for the underdog, the bullied, the abused, and it would suffice to say that injustice seriously pisses me off and brings out the wolverine in me.
- I am a feminist - I believe in EQUAL rights for both men and women, not superiority for either.
- I also believe in gay rights. FFS just let them be married if they love each other, and definitely let them volunteer to serve for our freedom. They are just as patriotic as us hetero's.
- I am like the wild animal: I watch those around me, get a feel for their personalities, souls, compassion and hearts before I decide they are good or safe enough to approach.
- Because of this I make few friends, but the friends I allow into the inner bailey and keep are the most loyal friends one could ask for.
- I am incredibly opinionated, but my mind is open enough to listen to logic and occasionally change my viewpoint (such as women on the front lines, honestly we should not be there. Like it or not, that is my opinion gained after speaking to several combat vets who could put the cons of women in combat rolls to me in non-asshole, logical terms).
- I write poetry, death/black metal lyrics, psychosis induced ramblings (which offer the deepest insights), and whatever the wonderful muse inside me sings.
- I do not fit into any one stereotype. I am influenced by the Romantic Period writers, I am highly emotionally sensitive when it comes from people I care about; I guess I have the drive to try to please and excel for those I respect (which is why anything less than an A from certain instructors pisses me off) and love (damn loyal Labrador syndrome), I proudly wear my death metal band t-shirts and Tripp NYC bondage pants, I have piercings (will get more), tattoos (will be covered eventually), and I pretty much just do my own thing. Often alone.
- The bastards that call self-harmers "Emo" piss me off to no end. I am a self-harmer. I am NOT emo. Self-harming is a very big and blatant cry for help, not attention, that should be heeded as it is the last step before actual suicide attempts.
- I've gone cut free for 7ish years (it's rather fuzzy), but not without a fight. It's like alcoholism or addiction to heroin, it is incredibly difficult to kick because,sadly, it does ease the psychological disturbance the person is experiencing... at least enough to bring them a couple of steps away from the ledge they're about to jump over.
- Naturally I have a highly addictive personality. If I try it and it feels good, I want more... so I tend to try not to hang out with druggies, which is easy to do since I'm a lone wolf type. Avoiding casinos is a good idea for me too. That said, alcohol tends to be my self-medication of choice - and I can out-drink most men when I hit the drinking phase.
In January of 2010 my mother (and only person I could trust to have my back and not be judgmental of me) was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. She died Sept. 28, 2010, not even a month after she came home on hospice from her last stay in the hospital. *edit: She died September 27th. That proves how exhausted and medicated I was that week. Hopefully getting the date wrong does not make me a bad daughter.*
In March of 2010 my boyfriend at the time was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lymphoma. He was treated and is now in remission (hopefully a really long term remission). During Mom's fight with cancer (in which I was the main caregiver for the last month of her life) the boyfriend became less and less supportive. I found myself fighting this essentially alone. I had friends, but friends cannot comfort me as well as the one who supposedly loves me (another issue altogether). He seriously douched out at the same time my mother died. I couldn't even get a "Yes, I'll go to the wake to support you" out of him.
While I still love him to pieces I am staying strong in my resolve that he is not the right person for me. I am intelligent enough to know I need a man who will be there every time (or at least a high percentage of the times) I need him. One that will travel the world with me as I study and research for writing projects. One that will just say I love you for no apparent reason. Anyway, I digressed into my hidden romantic. Naturally the loss of a loved parent and a 5 1/2 year relationship deeply wounded me.
I've been spiraling down ever since. Grieving the loss of Mom, rebounding from the relationship, being shot down repeatedly by every interest (which honestly comes across in my fucked up brain as "you're not good enough for me") - then again, who really wants to deal with seriously damaged goods?
My cycles are becoming more rapid, including mixed episodes where I'm seriously depressed and low manic at the same time. I try to keep track of my cycles and the most recent omg cycle fest included 7 cycles from "I can do anything" to fighting off the self-injury demon.
Two weeks ago I found myself low enough that I was actively coming up with creative ways to commit suicide. - It is part of my personality to be different so the over-used cliche methods bore me and I won't use them. - I came up with quite a few.
Instead of being intelligent and overcoming my own demons and going to the mental health ward, I chose to tranq myself out with Tramadol and Klonopin and visit the general practitioner (GP). She put me on Lamictal (again) in hopes that my body chemistry had changed since the last time I tried it. It apparently hasn't. I've been on it for 12 days and no change. I'm supposed to increase the dose in 4 days and visit again on the 22nd. It honestly feels like I'm just putting shitty pharmaceuticals in my body to no effect. Hopefully she'll listen next time and put me on Risperidone which is only $60/month or Abilify which I can most likely get via the pharmaceutical company's Patient Assistance Program, which is how I get my Lexapro. I guess we're in the wait and see, throw drugs at it, experimental phase again. Sadly, no matter how long I live, this will occur every few years.
That is probably enough information and self pity for one post. Thank you for reading and I hope to be able to give some insight to those who are seriously interested.