So how is life?  Life for me is peaceful. I have known of folks who have had butterflies land on their hand and rest there for a brief encounter. I have assumed that it was in part because the person had such peace that the butterfly felt safe to land.  I have a friend who has had a dragonfly come in the window of her car to land whole on her chest. But I have never known such grace that would allow for such a lovely gift from the winged ones.

But as I said life is peaceful and I am more comfortable in my own skin. Day before yesterday I extended my hand to a Monarch Butterfly and she slowly climbed on. She stayed for a while and let me know I was ok.  I am thankful for a better understanding of grace.

I have a new pdoc who has suggested I get off of some of the meds I have been taking. He started with Seroquel. I have been on 600 mg. for 3 yrs.  My pdoc thought some of my problems with blurred thinking and difficulty finding my words might be side-effects of  Seroquel. I have tappered off now and start the final month of taking this med.

One benfit I had on Seroquel was management of tremors. I have had familial tremors for most of my life and had seen a decrease in them since being on the med. My pdoc asked how much of a problem they were and if I wanted to stay on Seroquel. I had no doubt that  I would  rather have the tremors and  be more alert and aware of my thoughts and feelings than to be dull and out of touch

I trust my new p-doc and I look forward to more changes in my meds. It is refreshing to  go off of some of  the meds that  made me feel more ill than perhaps I am at this point.

If I have no dreams but I am at peace should I consider myself blessed? If I laugh at the wind blowing in my dogs face am I being too trivial with life? If I sense a tear inside but never cry what is wrong with me? You will notice all of my questions are about me, my life and other self centered themes. But to make it to my 60’s with the life I have lived  seems to make it ok.

At my stage of life reflecting on the meaning of life could be helpful in finding a purpose in the next part of my life. It seems to make sense that it would help to get out of myself, open my eyes and contemplate what there is beyond my nose. But what if my purpose in life has come and gone? What is next? It is interesting to finally have the time to ponder such things and yet struggle with my fears and insecurities.

When I was working as a therapist I have to admit that most days were a struggle to just keep up with the bipolar part of me. It was all consuming and after work I was completely exhausted, so much so that I had very little left for my family and friends. I did get feedback that I was a good therapist but I didn’t tell any of my co-workers about the bipolar. Now everyone knows and at times they are watching to see if I am truly healthy and for the most part I am. They would say I deserve the rest after 30 years of work. My mind works and I am writing again. Perhaps I will be able to answer some of my own questions

As a therapist and an individual with bipolar I would like to explore with you my experience of working with impaired cognitive functioning. During a full blown episode cognitive process can become so impaired that it can lead to significant behavior changes. Before one acts out in dramatic ways, a subtle disconnect with others can be noted and can target a need for work on the issues at hand.  This can be an inability to pick up on social cues and a difficulty in grasping the meaning of words and phrases. Developing strategies that help with this subtle problem can be important

In my last post I used the words ambivalence and resistance in questioning why I had not been writing on my blog. If I was depressed I would have attributed this to the depression itself. If I was hypo manic my thoughts might be rapid fire making  it difficult to know what I was thinking and feeling let alone be able to share with others.

I just want to say that I am not an expert on therapeutic techniques in treating bipolar. I do have my own experience with this illness and my struggle with it I need to gain more understanding about my illness so I can stay well. I have worked with a simple cognitive exercise that has helped me and others clarify the meaning of words and improve thinking, feelings and eventually to manage behavior.

This may sound like an overly simplistic exercise with little benefit. However, I have used it many times and have found it helpful. For example, when I was sorting out my reasons for not writing on my blog, I used the words ambivalence and resistance. For me there is a subtle difference in the meaning of these two words. I am recovering from depression for a few months now. I think it is helpful to understand what I am saying, how I am feeling and what it means to make healthy choices.

The next part of this exercise is to identify the common definition of the words. This may even involve going to a dictionary for clarity In my situation the meaning of ambivalence is essentially mixed feelings about writing on my blog. The word resistance is uncertainty and indecisiveness. My experience with resistance is like a roadblock that has roots in my self doubt. To remain well I want to confront the roadblocks and put my thoughts and feelings into healthy action

Working with this exercise I have decided to journal about my mixed feelings as I consider connecting with others. I have also decided to do an art project which would portray an image of my roadblocks in a literal way. I have also decided to continue with my blog.

I hope this exercise will be helpful for you. If it is helpful you may want to tell your therapist about it. It may be helpful to discuss your thoughts and feelings when you are confused or feel overwhelmed

It is either a pattern of ambivalence or one of resistance that I go back and forth in  sharing the part of me that is bipolar. My blog is important to me and I will try once again to find a focus.  My daily world is ok. I am content and have moments of laughter and others of silence. All of my emotions seem normal and the rapid cycling of moods  is a distant yet vivid memory. I want to share the experience of being a therapist with bipolar. Even though  I am no longer a therapist I have clear memories of my working world, my private world and how at times they overlapped.

I am also excited that I have a new p-doc. I had been seeing a p-doc in a town over 3 hours away. I had seen her for several years and the decisions to change to a local p-doc took some time to sort through.  But I saw him this week and I was pleased with his interview with me and his ideas about my medication. I have been having word blocking and short term memory problems and he suggests I tapper back on some of the meds. I sense his competence and will trust the plan of changing my meds. I will include my response to these changes in future posts in the hope that it will be helpful for others.

When I worked with clients who had bipolar my initial role was to help them identify their feelings and sensations as different medications were introduced  to their treatment plan. This is what I am attempting to do with my recent decrease of seroquel. So far I am not experiencing any side effects. I am  eager to share with you.

I can’t seem to close my blog and often read some of my old posts. I enjoy the process of speaking from my heart , getting feedback and reading other posts of my friends. It is so easy to get lazy and out of the loop.  Just when I think I will go in other directions I come back again.

I am inspired by a new online friendship with a person who has had a life experience similar to mine, including having bipolar.  We have been sharing our writing and just checking in with good intentions. This is my first time to have a friendship like this and I feel blessed by our sharing.

I am reaching out in other ways. My peopledog of 20 yrs. died and I was very sad. She had a healthy and fun filled life and her passing was peaceful.  I thought I would wait until a few month and find another dog to join in my family.  As it turns out my heart  was stolen by  a tiny, furry,panda like puppy. I am in the process of bonding with her and she shows signs of being a real and true peopledog.  I laugh and talk to her hours at a time.

I am truly blessed – Annie

About a month ago I moved from the country to a lovely home in the city. It has occupied my time and energy but I am now ready to return to my blog. It is a trade off to have left the rolling hills of my country home for the small city that I now call home.

I live in a university town with all the benefits of that culture. The city is large enough to have all the activities, shopping and restaurants that I can enjoy and small enough to not have hectic traffic. At this point in my life it is a good combination.

I am spending part of my time writing an ebook on Mental Health Wellness. It is gratifying to write about the topic and share it with the readers. It is not personal like my blog is and I think I will enjoy the balance of writing.

I am better grounded in my own wellness and there I have a balance where once there were mood swings. The medication I am on has helped me stabilize and my own efforts to find my center have blended together to help me feel good most of the time.

I hope my blogging friends will return to share my posts. I also look forward to reading and commenting on yours.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Peace, Annie

The sunshine is a welcome sight after 8 days of rain and thunderstorms. A soft light enters my window at dawn and I am typically awakened by my sweet old dog Petey. It is 6:25 on the dot every morning that she greets me with a frisky wag and a demanding bark. Petey is a pugadoodle and is almost 20 years old. She touches my funny bone and helps me enter the morning with a smile and a sense of relief that she is still alive.

I am blessed of late to have had more days filled with gentle smiles and laughter than in past months. The medication that I take does not tickle my funny bone instead it helps to see the lighter side of life. It is with a keen eye that I observe my days and make choices that help me free of depression. I remember a few months ago when I was unable to experience pleasure.  An inability to experience pleasure is a key symptom of clinical depression. It not only robs me of happy times but contributes to a decline in an interest in living. When there is an absence of pleasure a cycle kicks in that can spiral down towards a pit of depression. When it is not possible to experience pleasure it is a direct connection to helplessness and hopelessness.

I encourage those of you who share this inability to experience pleasure to be gentle with yourself and understand that it may be part of the depression itself. It may be helpful to talk with your psychiatrist about your options. But equally important is to do something different than what you are doing. If you are sitting in your chair stand up and if you are passively watching television or playing computer games you may want to do another activity. Moving your body is especially important and takes minimal effort to change the pattern so you can experience small pleasures. I know this sounds oversimplified but sometimes it is all that you can do because of feeling frozen. It is the small things that can make a difference.

One of the things that have helped me is to smell different aromas. I find some aromas comforting and others stimulating. These are small efforts but may just be the trigger to awaken the senses that lead to pleasure. Lavender for example is a pleasant aroma. I can’t help but feel the corners of my mouth turn up a little bit when I am around Lavender plants, oils or other products.   Lemon and Lime seem to perk up my spirits and my eyes open up a little bit wider. Cinnamon is a comforting aroma that sparks fond memories and makes a subtle shift that leaves room for a moment of pleasure. When these memories and sensations are attended to on a regular basis it allows the experience of pleasure to slip in to my awareness. It is not a cure but is a miracle!

There are days when humor takes its leave and quiet introspection resides inside my minds eye. For the most part I do not fear the return of a depressive episode but rather sit with the breeze coming through my window and write another brief post for my blog. Sometimes I want to share about the last three years and have some of the pain and sorrow fade into the words on the screen. I do not want the experiences to stay alive nor do I want to delete them as soon as they are on the screen. I will have to see what is most helpful as I write this draft.

It is another bittersweet recollection to note that I am more stable than at any other time in my life but that I am no longer able to be a therapist. I enter the last half of my life with the glass half full. I feel blessed that I have a well trained and sensitive psychiatrist who has gradually worked with me to find a balance of medications needed to manage the rapid cycling of symptoms that have become so severe over the last three years.

I was on Paxil for several years and for a long period of time I had a huge disconnect from my feelings. I made poor choices that impacted my life in devastating ways. I have heard other folks speak of this same disconnection of feelings on Paxil. It progressed from being “low key” and mellow to not caring what happened to me. I was not overtly reckless at first but as a number of major stressors occurred I became self destructive and careless.

I had two surgeries for a broken leg, ankle and another for a severely shattered wrist. This was the result of remodeling my house and doing the work myself. My mother died, my partner had terminal cancer and I had to declare bankruptcy. This was all within a year and I struggled to overcome the losses but found it overwhelming. At the same time I was remodeling an old house and was getting very little sleep. I worked 50 hours as a therapist and came home only to work until midnight on the construction of the house.

This pace went on for a year and a half. It was clear to my family that I was self destructive and they urged me to be hospitalized. I had a very wise and sensitive psychiatrist who gradually tapered me off of the Paxil. It was extremely difficult but I had confidence in her treatment and made it through the hospitalization with new and more balanced medications. It was clear to me that a balance of medication was needed for me to remain stable. It was however also clear that  I was not able to work, especially as a therapist and my psychiatrist recommended that I go on disability.

No matter how sad I am at the loss of a thirty year career as a therapist, I know it has been the right thing to do. I also agree with my psychiatrist that I have entered a chronic phase of the illness and need to have time each day to keep myself from regressing . I follow a similar recovery plan as a 12 step program. I take one day at a time to do what I need to do to remain stable. I am currently on several medications all of which are very helpful.

Reflection helps process the grief of the losses over the last few years. I used to fear contemplation and that I would become overwhelmed and stay in a place of darkness and depression. It is reassuring that  I can spend time processing the past and touch the painful feelings and yet shift back to my everyday routine. It is a combination of balanced medication, writing and spending time with others that helps make life worth living

It came to me today that there are brief snippets of humor spontaneously popping out with my friends and family. Much of the time I make wise cracks about myself or innocently poke fun at my loved ones. I figure that to truly mend my funny bone I need to know more about it. For instance where is the funny bone located in my body? For a long time I have imagined that it is situated in my heart space and connected to my rib cage. It seems that the sense of humor radiates from this space and is connected to laughter in my belly.

But then I think the seat of humor may actually be somewhere near my minds eye. A twinkle typically comes to my eyes when I laugh with other folks. There is also a blend of my life being ironic with my life being one big joke. I pause for a moment to check my manic-meter to measure what I call my “bull shit factor”.

For the last several years I have experienced symptoms of rapid cycling bipolar. When there was an internal momentum of energy building, especially humor and joking around I would begin to build on that energy with silliness and nonsensical word play that left me embarrassed and made a huge disconnect with others. It became difficult to pull in my chatter and it left others shaking their head and seeing me as a basket case. The final result was that I had a high level of the “bull shit factor”.

This rapid cycling became more difficult to manage at work and staying present with clients in therapy was at times more than I could contain. It was as if I could see it happen and watch as a particular version of word play and noises made their way into the conversation despite my desire to be what the client needed. This was in part what led to me having to leave my work as a therapist. These problems along with periodic depression that left me in a trance resulted in me being unable to work and going on disability. I vacillate between feeling shame about this part of me and feeling compassion for myself for the loss of a work that I loved.

How bittersweet it is to need my funny bone to be alive and thriving and yet have a moment of hesitation. I fear that I might crank up my joking and fall into a pool of silliness. Then what was predictable in the past was the death grip of depression blackening the pool of silliness. But then I just may be healthier now and can sit back and enjoy my funny bone in action!