Moving--Days Two and Three

We have had the blessed assistance of Catholic HEART Workcamp for the week. There are over 350 volunteers--high school kids and adults--staying in Nashville, and we've had about 60 volunteers helping us move. There's one group at our old campus, loading Uhauls, and there's another group at the new location, ready to unload each truck and place the desks, books, computers, etc. in the proper rooms. Not only do they unload, but they also organize, clean and sort. On Tuesday, I had to ask a group to move books that had already been shelved in one area to another area. They did the job quickly and with a good Grace. Yesterday, a small group stripped wallpaper in two offices. Today they will have another office to do. Yet another group has designated themselves to paint two places outside, and they are really excited about it! It is a joy to work with this special group of young people. I have missed working with high school kids. They have made my week special.

We are throwing them a picnic today, with a grill and watermelon. I am bringing my guitar, my voice, and three watermelons.

The phones are coming today, and we hope to move IT infrastructure tomorrow.

Blessings!

Kathy

Moving--Day One

I've never liked moving. Where ever I am is usually where I'd like to be. That's a two-edged sword. It applies to both good and bad situations. The building we're in now is inappropriate in numerous ways. Not only is the layout bad for our age of students, but there's also no gym and the roof leaks..all the time. The new facility needs work, yet it has the potential to be our home for years to come.

Having said all of that, I feel overwhelmed and a bit sad at the prospect of moving. I had to move my office first thing yesterday, including my chair, so that I felt like I had a "home" in the new place. Even though I hadn't worked very hard yesterday, I felt really tired and relaxed when I got home yesterday..kind of like the edge I'm on has been dulled a bit. It feels a lot better, even though there's still tons to do.

Old office: Note the solid blinds, the window unit, and the radiator. The blinds don't lock properly,and the A/C's electronics are fried: plug in for on, unplug for off. The radiator never shuts off in the winter. The air and heat have to run together a lot of the winter, especially in the morning. Sigh...my first office.

New office has: carpet, central heat and air, and a window with blinds that work! One piece of the building's switch gear (IT infrastructure) will be house here because the intake vent is in this office. There are built-in shelves, too!

These shots were taken Monday, and I had a hard time posting them yesterday. It is now Wednesday, and things have progressed quite a bit since then.

More in the next post.

Blessings!
Kathy

Seroquel and Weight Gain

I have found that BP meds make me gain weight. No big surprise there. Seroquel in particular is a real culprit in making me fat. I get sleepy and then I eat. It's a terrible habit. Seroquel makes me so sleepy that I eat just to stay awake..or something. I have fallen asleep with food in my mouth. I'm not proud of it, but it's true.

Sometimes I accept weight gain in trade for mental health. For the first year on medication, my thought process was: I've already given up so much, why should I give up food I love, too. Not fair, not fair, etc....

On December 26, 2006, I decided to turn my 12-step experience to being overweight, so I started reading Overeater's Anonymous literature. I decided to stop overeating, one day at a time. It worked great for about two years. I lost 35 pounds simply by maintaining that I was a compulsive overeater. I never went to a meeting. Now, I look back and realize that I'm not a compulsive overeater. Not really. I'm bipolar and on meds. So I overeat. Also, when I had lost 35 pounds and felt really great about that, my (former) doctor said that I needed to lose some more weight and go on a particular diet to do it. Not the way to talk to me. That's when I started to gain weight and went back up about 25 pounds again.

It's not his fault. He meant well. He just doesn't know how to talk to a person with a mood disorder. That's not the only reason I changed docs. There were issues of location and availability, too.

I can choose not to overeat. I can choose exercise and make healthy eating choices. I was never "skinny" before, and I'm not likely to be skinny now, but I can choose to be healthy for myself, my kids, and my husband. So I joined Weight Watchers online. Again, it's working. Also, I signed up for personal training at the nearest YMCA.

My exercise goal for last week was to hike the Mossy Ridge Trail at Percy Warner Park here in Nashville. It is 4.5 miles of up and down. I have done a lot of hiking, and I would classify it as a moderate trail. Some portions are very steep and long. It took me 2 hours to hike it, but I did it! When I took this picture, I was heading up the last really big hill. I was drenched and tired but so happy! Never mind that some people run this trail and many walk it faster than me. I completed it, and that just felt so good.

Bottom line is I must carve out time to exercise and stop letting obligations to others get in the way of my recovery! When school starts again in August I will have let time and energy for exercise, so now I'm developing an exercise support network. I've already talked to my trainer about it.

Today is my day off.

Blessings!
Kathy

Telling My Friends about Bipolar

I'm going through a phase of facing my illness. I voluntarily made an hour-long appointment with my psychiatrist this week. There was a time 6-7 years ago when I highly resented going to the psychiatrist. He just said, "See, people can change," when I pointed out my different attitude. There are different schools of thought about "telling," and I've read about them in Bipolar Magazine. My approach has always been to tell a couple of people I trust at work about my illness. Even though my bipolar is well-controlled with medication today, that doesn't tell me what to expect in the future. I believe in constructing a support network where I can go for help or insights into my behavior. My husband is the keystone of that network. He just asked me this morning if I meant to get up at 5 am. I did; I have a lot of work to do today, and I wanted to have plenty of time for prayer, reading, and writing. My doc said that sleep patterns are the main thing for me to watch. That's the sort of concrete information that really helps. I promised to call doc if I go two straight nights waking up at 3 or 4 am.

To me, the definition of hell on earth is waking up at 3am and being unable to go back to sleep. There were months-long stretches while I was still untreated when I did that every night, over and over again. I'll never forget the first clonazepam I took because I felt such blissful relaxation after weeks of tension and exhaustion in a vicious cycle. I took a two hour nap that day and felt a lot better. Go figure.

I began seeing Dr. G in April of 2004, as part of a 7-point plan agreed upon by me, hubby and another doctor. I was in bad shape physically and emotionally. Needless to say, it was a low point. It took me until December of 2005 before I was brave enough to ask Dr. G what my diagnosis was. He said that he thought I had a "mild mood disorder of the bipolar variety." I remember expressing my relief because I was always afraid that I might be depressed. I said, "I'm glad it's not depression because depressed people kill themselves." He said, "People with bipolar disorder kill themselves, too." Oh. Anyway, I was relieved to know what is wrong with me, and the diagnosis really explained a lot of things I had never told anyone. A few days ago I asked him again for my diagnosis. He was reluctant to put me into a standard DSM-IV category, and I'm glad for that. He said that it appears to be Bipolar II with mixed elements of depression. He also said he's fairly certain I've never had a full-blown manic episode. He's probably right. Any time I ever got really scary in my own thoughts, I've retreated to home and to prayer. The other thing that we discussed is that the medication that works now may not always work. That's I have to go see him. I'm blessed to have strong recovery that has lasted so long. I have to give credit to my excellent doctor and also to medication compliance. What's so weird about my bipolar is I'm pretty sure I'm depressed now, but I have a lot of energy. The notion of "mixed elements" or "mixed state," which I've never grasped before, suddenly makes sense to me.

Yesterday I found a good site and bookmarked it so I can go back and learn more: Mood Swings But Not Manic  There's lots of good science there.

Anyway, yesterday I told another work friend about my bipolar. We had a great talk about it. She shared some things with me, too. I have someone else who loves me and really knows me a little bit. Most of the time I have to be the professional administrator at work. My overall boss, the person over our whole organization, knows. She told me not to tell anyone else because they may look at me differently. My experience has been that people say, "I would never have known that if you hadn't told me." Then, they tend to forget about it. My family does the same thing. The important concept is that I am living with bipolar and have to deal with it daily. Sometimes it's a grind, but it is worth taking care so that I am able to live a full and happy life, feel my feelings, and be present to my family and friends. If you had asked me 5 years ago, I wouldn't have imagined myself capable of handling the job I'm doing now. I thought I'd never be fit to work again. So, I rejoice in my recovery and weep at the same time with the praise I must offer God for never leaving me.

"We fall down, but we get up. For a saint is just a sinner who fell down and got up." --Donnie McClurkin

Blessings.

Sharing a well-written post

Every morning I check the blog "I'm just F.I.N.E," written by Syd., and today's post on Respect is fantastic. There's no way I could say it better than he did. I found myself wishing that other people I know could experience the spiritual awakening of recovery; however, there's a slippery slope there. It is OK for me to pray that someone will be blessed, but it is not my job or responsibility to "save" another person. That is between each person and his or her Higher Power. So, today, I am praying for my coworker who really needs recovery. The best thing I can do for anyone is maintain my own recovery so that others see something they want in me.


I ask for the Grace to speak the truth if I am asked.


Blessings.

The Most Important Gift

When I was actively involved in Al-Anon recovery, there were a lot of group members who said that recovery in Al-Anon was the most precious gift. I read literature, journaled, worked the steps with a sponsor and went to meetings; however, I always put my family, especially my children, ahead of going to meetings. One school year, I gave up my home group because the time conflicted with going to school and teaching one child an advanced math class. Full disclosure: I wasn't living with active alcoholism at the time. Also, an alcoholic friend once told the that the AA's need for recovery is different. He said, "We have a tendency to drink and die."

I've heard others speak of "the priceless gift of serenity," and I know from deep within myself how priceless that gift is. I won't give my serenity away to anyone. The second step says, "Came to believe that a Power greater that ourselves could restore us to sanity." One definition of insanity is repeating the same behavior and expecting different results. One day in a meeting, I actually said out loud (!) that I have a diagnosis of bipolar. Just to say that out loud made me shake. I had been struggling with the word "sanity" in that step, and I really needed to say that I am mentally ill. Sanity in real life is different than sanity in Al-Anon, and I needed to say that in the safe environment of the meeting. I have a potentially life-threatening mental illness.

More than five years after receiving the bipolar diagnosis, I have come to an extremely important realization: my recovery from bipolar disorder is the Most Important Gift in my life. It is my priceless gift. Without the overall mental health I've worked so hard to gain, I don't have the dear people in my life. My relationships can't be healthy. I can't be happy and fulfilled at work. When I am ill, the pain is almost unbearable, and I'm not present. I don't want to go back to being ill. I am responsible for my own recovery. I am responsible for seeking help when I need it, and the experience is humbling. I am grateful beyond measure for the gift of recovery.

I end with one of the prayers I say every morning:

Freedom Prayer:
Take, Lord, receive all of my freedom, my memory, my intelligence, and my will, all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given those things to me. I now give them back to you, Lord. All belongs to you. Dispose of these gifts according to your Will. All that I ask is your Love and your Grace, for they are enough for me.
--St. Ignatius of Loyola


Blessings!

It's Father's Day, of Course

I don't have a lot of time today, because I have to go pay attention to the father of my children, my first and only husband, so far. Yesterday I spent several hours assembling a photo video with music to give to my father for one of his Father's Day gifts. He's not the one to go for the home-made cards and gifts, so I wasn't sure, but he called me after dinner saying he really enjoyed it. He said, "And I'll always have it." Beautiful words coming from a 79-year-old man. I was touched.

I remember things my father said, and he has no recollection of saying these things:
"When you are between a rock and a hard place, don't move."
"The only thing you can't come back from is death."
"Success is not final."
"Always do your homework."
"The more power you have over someone, the more polite you should be to that person."

My father taught me the importance of ethical business dealings. He has walked away from lucrative business deals because they were financially fishy. He is generous and has modeled generosity for me. He values his education and made sure that I got an excellent one. He is seeing to it that my children get the same.

Just before I started college, Dad and I went for a walk on the beach, specifically because he wanted to talk to me. He said, "You're smart, and you are going to attract some weird guys. Be careful and watch out for those guys." Other than that, he never tried to interfere in my dating or marriage. He always said that my happiness came first. I'll be darned if I'm not happily married for nearly 21 years now!

Dad, I love you! I'm so glad to have you in my life, and I'm grateful for all you've taught me and given me. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to pay it forward.

Blessings!

It's Time to Deal with "The Music Thing"

Yesterday I wrote about forgiving a particular person, LDD, who killed my sister-in-law. After working out, I sat with my guitar and tried to write a song, a tune, or something to accomplish the forgiveness I sought. My Al-Anon sponsor told me that when someone has hurt me, I have to consider my part, too. There are several instances in my life where it is nigh unto impossible for me to see that I had a part. In this case, the car wreck happened in another state, I wasn't there, and sure had nothing to do with the cause of it. My fault is that I haven't focused on forgiving this person, and so he's being held up spiritually by my lack of forgiveness. Anyway, I ended up writing the beginning of a little song.

It's really simple and the words are:

Inspire me
Forgive me
Bless me so that I can
Forgive me

For I know what I've done
And what I've left undone so
Please forgive me


Inspire him
Forgive him
Bless me so that I can
Forgive him

For I know what he's done
And for what he's done
Please forgive him

The pronouns can be changed easily according to the forgiveness need.

I'm still working on it, of course, but the words and music came to me really clearly.  Writing a song is an out of control experience for me. I don't ever feel like I'm doing anything. The song is given to me. It is a spiritual gift that I never asked for, and most of the time I don't want it. Songwriting and music, in my experience, are associated with staying up late, acting "weird," thinking in non-linear ways, and generally being illogical. I've lost almost 15 pounds in the last 5 weeks or so, and so I have all of this extra energy. That's a good thing, but I don't want to go into a hypomanic cycle or any other state that would compromise my mental health. My bipolar recovery has been excellent for over 5 years, and it's really the most important thing in my life. It's the keystone of my existence.

It's time to address the musical talent I possess and see if I'm finally mature enough to integrate it into the rest of my life. I am afraid that it will take away the stability I've worked so hard to gain, but I have to work it out. My heart is telling me this so clearly now.

Blessings!

Forgiving LDD...

Seventeen years ago today, my sister-in-law L was killed in an automobile accident. In a sense she was murdered, because the car was stolen two days earlier from an auto dealer's repair bay. No one noticed that it was stolen for two days, and she was killed shortly after the theft was reported. The driver was a 15-year-old with no DL, and he was fleeing the cops, going over 90 mph. She was proceeding through a green light at the speed of 26 mph.

First I was numbly in shock and grief, then I became really angry. It was a year before I could really start to feel anything. All of this happened 10 years before my diagnosis of bipolar. I was a mess. In the summer of 1995, I started attending Al-Anon meetings. I realized that I was emotionally immature. I also started seeing a psychologist, but I had to wait several weeks for an appointment. Apparently, I was sounding lucid enough that I was told to wait. It's reality in our country that I can drop into a local pharmacy clinic for a throat culture with no appointment and little waiting. But I would have had to be psychotic and raving to get attention for psychiatric care. So I waited. I eventually got in to see a psychologist, then another one, but I didn't tell either of them the extent of my feelings or experiences with moods. I especially didn't trust the second one, and I know that I'm smarter than him. I could totally fake him out and make like I was just fine. Just like I've done my whole life.

I've been seeing my current psychiatrist consistently since April 2004. I love him and trust him. I knew right away that I couldn't fake him out. He also trusts me. If I need to ask him something, he calls me on the phone. I'm blessed because my medication has been working for me consistently since December 2005. We've tweaked it, but I haven't been hospitalized yet. For today, I hope to stay out of the hospital again.

The 12-step concept of ODAT (one day at a time), works for bipolar recovery, too. So I'm glad that I have the blessing of having lived with active alcoholism. It is a gift. Everything that happens in my life, God turns into a blessing.

So today, my prayer is finally to forgive LDD for killing my sister-in-law. Remember that I'm an adoptee, so she was every bit as related to me as my sister is. I have no biological siblings. I know that now. I've always tried to treat everyone as if they could be related to me. So, she was a little sister to me. She was even going to be a math teacher, just like me. Only she never got there.

I pray that God will help me forgive LDD. I ask that the Lord will give him every blessing that I would ask for myself. I ask for help in forgiving those silent car repairmen who saw him drive off in that car and said nothing. There's a saying that harboring a grudge is like drinking rat poison and hoping the other person will die. I don't want to carry this anymore.

Later today, I'll sing a song for LDD. When I sing it, I'll pray it for his forgiveness.

"When you sing, you pray twice."

Blessings!

Beginning ideas

I was out walking and running the other day, and I started thinking it might be a cool idea to start a blog. But I couldn't think of what to base it on, so I decided to just lay out all of the labels talk about whichever one is on my mind on any given day. I rarely tell anyone that I'm bipolar, and when I do, they usually don't believe me. I mean, come on, I've been married for years and years, married only once. I have three great kids, a full-time job, and a wonderful, blessed life. Things haven't always been easy, but I am respectful of my illness, to the point that my doctor told me I'm healthy. See, I got tired of thinking of myself as ill, and I'm really not ill when I take my medication. Maybe one day, when I'm in the mood, I'll talk about the experience of being actively bipolar and the actual diagnosis process.

I don't have time today, because I'm about to live some life on a day hike with a couple of the kids. I'll post pictures tomorrow if I can figure out how to do it.

Blessings!

There Has to Be a First Post

I was out running/walking in the park the other day, and it occurred to me that I should start a blog. I used to write in a journal daily as part of my Al-anon recovery process and just for general good health, but I stopped for some reason. I have things to say and share. It used to be commonplace and expected for men and women to keep diaries of their everyday events and thoughts. These diaries and the letters people wrote are primary sources for research today, and they are preserved and cherished. I know that I can't write anything here that I don't want the world to know. As if people are going to find and follow me! Anyway, everything I write or work on gets back up to Carbonite's servers, wherever they are, and so I figure that the blog is the modern day equivalent of a diary.

One last thing..Why the title? Over the next few days, I hope to explain that. Mainly it's that I don't know what label to put on myself or this blog. I'll explain more tomorrow.

mheobk