I am STRONG!

Wow. This may be hypomania speaking (haven't been charting my moods for the past few weeks), but I do believe I'm experiencing a larger change.

The earliest I remember being happy was age 3. I remember little moments of happiness after that, but pretty much everything from 5 on was characterized by a sense of resignation, hopelessness, being a captive of my parents, being responsible for my mother and sister, and receiving that responsibility from my father.

I've been remembering little things about my father lately. No more anger on my part. Just little memories -- sharpening his hunting knife with a whetstone, chasing off a king snake with a stick, his protectiveness toward small animals.

Learning my diagnosis and taking meds has not only been life changing, it's been life restoring. I'm feeling pieces emerging of the girl who wanted to be a cowgirl like Dale Evans (feminine and adventurous) or a pioneer like Amelia Earhart (taking on new challenges and being fearless), or gentle, nurturing, creative, and independent like my grandmother.

Wow. Can't wait to see how I apply this feeling of strength!

New Year's Blues

Yep, I think I've got them. I Googled the phrase just to see what would come up. Now I know that I'm not alone.

But I think I'm developing New Year's ANGER and FRUSTRATION. Conversations I've had in the past year keep coming to mind.

There are three things that I have grown used to having in my life: low income, health problems, and being alone (not necessarily loneliness). I AM TIRED OF HAVING THESE THINGS IN MY LIFE!

No resolutions will be made at the new year, but I will begin welcoming these things into my life (without harm coming to anyone else and for the best good of all concerned): prosperity, good health, and the company of other people in the form of good friendships and a committed relationship with a good man.

I no longer have Christmas spirit so the few decorations I have will be going to Goodwill. Next December I will celebrate Winter Solstice. That celebration may be low key and personal. My son may come for dinner on December 25, but I am abandoning all other traditions.

January 1 will be spent in contemplating the upcoming year and setting intentions, not setting goals that are unreachable. Although I always wish that I will spend New Year's Eve with someone special, the truth is that it's not likely to happen; after 12 years I have little hope.

I won't wait until January 1. I embrace prosperity, good health, friendships, and the love of a good man who wants to build a life with me.

I'll take my meds, use my GLAD light, and continue to take other steps to move toward the life I want and I deserve.

Wow! Good for me!

ADDENDUM: 12/30 - Since writing this I was offered a chance to work a short shift on New Years Day. The pay is special rate (77% increase) plus overtime. I'm considering this the first sign of the prosperity that is in my life.

I also had a good chat with a friend and she validated many of the ideas that have been churning in my mind. I'm considering this the first sign of the true friendships that are in my life.

Can't wait to see what happens next!

Trigger Four Identified: Break in Routine

I've been fortunate in that I've been able to get at least 40 hours of work for two weeks. However, I've not been taking my meds as prescribed, but I'm only feeling a little down. Physically, the increased hours have taken their toll and I'm worn out when I get home. Then add in a series of cold, rainy days. Add in a pinch of a failed attempt at having a joyful Christmas. The final product isn't good. It can be salvaged.

Even though the sky is not falling at the moment, I do recognize that even small changes in routine are having a large impact. Not only am I not doing a good job of taking my meds, I'm also not doing a particularly good job at work. I have failed to follow through on routine tasks like clocking in on time. I have failed to be assertive with my clients and have bought into their anxiety instead of being the calm presence that they need. I have been resentful of the financial freedom of one client and the independence of another client. If I were working a 9 to 5 job, I'd be asking for a day off at this point. But I'm not and circumstances right now dictate that I work as much as possible so that I can pay basic living expenses.

I've lost perspective. I'll get it back.

Trigger Three Identified: Fatigue

I've been working hard and I've got the bruises, aches, and pains to prove it. I'm tired when I get home and I've messed up my sleep cycle by falling asleep early and waking up at odd hours of the night.

I'm also not taking my night meds regularly. I've heard my name a few times while working with my most challenging client. That's quite a barometer, but I have other ways to signal myself when I am experiencing too much stress. It seems to coincide with missing more than two doses in a row. Now that I'm back to sleeping in my bed (HOORAY!), I will move my evening mediset to my nightstand (next to where I place my glasses), put a reminder on my white board, and, since I'm reading in bed again, a nudging bookmark might be another good idea.

I haven't been using Moodscope lately either.

The positive things I'm doing for myself are eating nutritious food, only exceeding my caffeine limit a couple of days a week, and staying active (mostly through my job). I actually called a friend to share something I was happy about and we giggled like two schoolgirls, then trusted each other to allow expressions of concern about the things that we had shared.

I feel like such a silly old woman and that's a nice feeling.

Trigger Two Identified: Sickness

I've come full circle here. I hit crisis mode when I was sick and, now that I am again dealing with a cold or some sort of annoying bug, I'm realizing the impact of even a small change in health.

In contrast to last time that I felt ill, I have been taking a multi-symptom (without alcohol) cold/flu medicine. It hasn't caused any conflict with my meds and, because it helps relieve headache and congestion, it helps me avoid fuzzy thinking. I have had fewer instances of missing or delaying my meds. Adequate rest also promotes better self-care.

The lesson for me is that some things that I suspect are not good for me can actually be helpful in moderation. I have to be willing to safely explore all options for keeping myself healthy and to consult with my caregivers when I need guidance. My view needs to be more holistic, not locked into a separation of mind and body health. When I do X, my life is better. When I do Y, my life is not better. Those are the limits I will aim to place on my view of well-being.

Because I am on a very low dose of my meds, it is more important to take them every day. If I had an automobile that only had a two gallon gas tank, I would need to refuel daily in order to meet my daily transportation needs. Why have I been expecting to maintain good health with less than the full amount of fuel needed to lead a full life?

I think I've successfully hung up my super woman cape.

Blossoming Brigid

My depression seems to have begun with puberty. My strangeness began much earlier. I don't think at this point in my life that it serves any purpose to try to sort out all the factors that made me feel different -- I just was.

Life with meds means that I now have the opportunity to be myself, my true self. Being middle-aged means I don't much care anymore what people think and I'll wear my comfortable shoes, thank you very much. The combination is interesting. My goal is no longer to be normal, but to be true, genuine, authentic.

For me the challenge is acknowledging my loneliness, but not feeling needy. I guess having a crush is teaching me more than I expected. While I was going bananas there for a bit, I now have no expectations. Que sera sera.

I am assertive now. I've told two clients that I would not perform tasks in the manner in which I was instructed. I refused to get down on my hands and knees to wipe down a floor with a wet rag; a mop was then located. I refused to go outside in the rain to perform a task that could wait until the rain stopped; my client realized her instructions were unreasonable. I told my supervisor that I wanted to work more hours than I have been assigned and I'm getting more hours. Ask and you shall receive.

I still don't really understand what "normal" is, but I have been asking people I trust for feedback. And I'm really not that interested in conforming. I do want to be able to effectively communicate and co-exist with other people. I frequently ask for guidance as to what is "reasonable." Having some sort of gauge enables me to clearly communicate.

And I'm not squelching my exuberance! I have channeled it. There is freedom in being a Unitarian. I can embrace my causes, live my beliefs, and know that I'm not alone. I can express my passion in whatever manner I choose as long as I allow myself to express it.

For a while I was mourning for all the wasted time, the years lost because I was trapped, undiagnosed, untreated, and unable to help myself. But I'm coming around to the belief that the timing has really been right for me. I just need to keep trusting myself and wearing comfortable shoes.

Holiday: Thanksgiving Redefined

Last Thanksgiving occurred exactly one week after my job was eliminated. My son and I talked about what we wanted to do, how we felt in general about the holiday, and what we might do going forward. I was feeling anything but thankful. He has never really understood the holiday, but does enjoy the fact that I cook and we have a good meal together. And we used to go to a movie after dinner.

When I was growing up, Thanksgiving meant a big dinner at the grandparents' house. Of course, this wasn't special because we had dinner there every Sunday. The difference was that in addition to the usual fried chicken there would be ham, in addition to mashed potatoes there was dressing, and in addition to chocolate cake there was sweet potato pie. But there were no traditions that made this day feel any different than any other day. As usual, my grandfather mumbled his regular dinner prayer.

After my grandparents passed away, Thanksgiving with my family of origin became even more bland. My mother would awaken before the rest of us in order to put the turkey in the oven, she would make dressing in the special yellow bowl, and my father would always manage to distract her long enough to get a test slice of turkey. There was never any mention of why we were celebrating. My sister and I knew about the origin of Thanksgiving from school. We had no idea how other families might celebrate. Some years we would all watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade on television. After my son was born, the only variation was that he and I would leave after the dishes had been done and go to a movie or have an adventure (go on a drive to discover something new).

While my son and I lived in Alaska, we spent three Thanksgivings with my boyfriend's family. I didn't know how to react to the way that they celebrated. We started the day with breakfast together, performed support tasks for the cooks, each household brought at least one dish to share, and we went for a lovely long walk while the turkey was baking. Dinner was served late in the day (in the South, dinner is the mid-day meal and supper is the evening meal). Everyone pitched in to clean up. And the hard part for me -- we went around the table declaring why we were thankful. Pre-diagnosis me immediately choked up, chin quivered, and I cried while saying I didn't know. My son would express thanks for the turkey.

The Thanksgivings that my son and I spent alone have been rather lackluster as well. The first Thanksgiving in Alaska with just the two of us was memorable. It occurred right after I had left my boyfriend. I had spent all of our money moving us into a small one bedroom apartment. My son had bedroom furniture and we had a folding table in the living area. I slept on the living room floor. We had no transportation costs because we lived across from the high school and I could walk to work. Times were very, very tight. Thanksgiving arrived before payday. On the Wednesday before, we had a treasure hunt in the apartment. My son has always shown no interest in coins and there was a treasure trove under the clothes on the floor of his bedroom. We scraped together some money, walked to the grocery store, and were able to purchase a half-pound of ground beef, three potatoes, and a very large onion. Then I taught my son how to make hamburger hash. That year, in the tradition of the Pilgrims, we were celebrating our resiliency, our optimism in the face of adversity, and our joy in being a family. We have never had another Thanksgiving like that one. (While I wrote this my son came in and we agreed to skip Thanksgiving and concentrate on Christmas. I haven't told him yet I'm more interested in celebrating the Winter Solstice.)

One of the things I've been able to realize from learning my diagnosis is that there has been a common characteristic, a multi-generational influence that factored into each year's celebration. My maternal grandfather cast a shadow over every celebration with his mourning for his mother who died when he was a child. My father cast a similar shadow over celebrations with his mourning for his mother and his negative memories of holidays growing up in his grandmother's house with a cruel uncle. My mother treated the holidays as an obligation and always either accused an aunt of wanting to take away my father or complained about how she was mistreated by her family of origin. Neither of my parents were celebrating with the family they created.

My father and maternal grandfather were visibly depressed. What I've learned is that my mother most likely is also mentally ill -- she used to be a wild woman when her thyroid medication was not at the proper dosage. Like me, she also heard voices when the airconditioning was on (which I thought was normal). She also believed people were talking about her. She also had panic attacks and was plagued with anxiety. She is currently residing in a facility for people with dementia.

I am thankful for all the people who helped uncover the truth about me, who arrived at the proper diagnosis, who created a drug cocktail that helps, and for the hours with an exceptional therapist who was the first to finally reach ME. I probably won't celebrate the American Thanksgiving holiday any more, but I will continue to give thanks everyday for the extraordinary gift of myself that I received from the people who have led me to this place of safety and sanity. I am also thankful for the friends I've been able to be myself with, who have supported me both in depression and hypomania (and who can now identify my hypomanic period and safely flee), and who have been my first true friends.

Trigger One Identified: Low Oxygen

I was weepy and agitated and panicky upon awakening. A nasty, nasty headache. I've felt this way for a couple of mornings lately. Well, today I identified the common factor -- breathing problems.

Part 1: Yesterday I did some intensive cleaning, including soaking water bottles in a bleach solution. Since my sense of smell is very bad, I didn't realize how strong the odor was nor how much my hands smelled of bleach.

Part 2: I have also been burning a candle at night -- usually a tea light, but sometimes a votive. Last night there was a storm, wind roaring, lights flickering as though the power was about to go out and I don't like those conditions. I grew up in tornado country and I am trained to stay alert during storms, seek cover under certain circumstances, and keep emergency supplies close at hand. I decided to save the batteries in my flashlight and kept a succession of votives burning all night. (I have never been able to fall asleep if I know that the power is out.) I dozed off and on all through the night.

Part 3: My apartment is drafty so I've not worried about lack of oxygen. However, in winter many of my neighbors take advantage of the wood burning fireplaces in the units. With certain weather conditions, the smoke stays low and it penetrates the other units.

Part 4: I have asthma. I have not been using my maintenance drug as prescribed (Yes, I know that it doesn't work if I don't use it). I did not have an asthma attack, but I would bet that the old peak flow meter would have indicated a problem.

Conclusion: Take all meds as prescribed. Don't burn candles all night. Ventilate the apartment when using strong smelling chemicals. DON'T use strong smelling chemicals. If these conditions are not met, don't be surprised if there is less than optimal brain functioning.

Sheesh.

Today's been interesting....

Today's Moodscope reading was in the 70's, which seems valid to me. I've been scurrying around housecleaning, organizing, and generally transforming my apartment into a healthy and lovely place to live. Then, about an hour ago, I wanted to cry. To just sob. I began thinking about what may happen when my unemployment runs out. Then I started doing searches to see what other people have done. Then I started beating myself up. Result: I do believe I'm beginning my descent.

Tomorrow I'll think about possible triggers so that I can assess whether there was a reason for my reaction or whether it's a possible plummet. But for today, I'm going to find something upbeat to do, think about what intention I want to set at the new moon (Thursday), and generally calm myself down and think lovely thoughts.

What Do I Have to Live For?

Not raising any alarms here, but this question has been on my mind today. Not in the sense of throwing up my hands and asking the universe the purpose of my continued existence, but more in the very pragmatic sense of what part will I play in the larger scheme of things. What relationships will I have with the people who I've allowed into my life? How can I have successful friendships, a marriage, a wild passionate affair when I really have no healthy model for these relationships? (As it gets colder and my back needs warming I start thinking more and more about the wild passionate affair!)

I know that I'm on solid ground right now. No sense of impending doom. Meds taken every day. I'm taking better care of myself. I'll be giving some serious thought to these questions.

And, of course, I'll digress.

I've been reading a book about an early Alaskan settler who lived among the great brown bears on Admiralty Island. Having spent a decade in Southeast Alaska, the place names and descriptions brought up strong positive memories. Then I realized that today I've been a bear. I've been ravenous. It's cold outside and all I want to do is stuff my face and curl up on the couch in the nest of blankets and quilts that I've constructed. I'm sure that my snoring is similar to that of a bear.

When I lived up in Alaska and my son and boyfriend were driving me crazy, I would announce that I'd rather move out to the bush and live with the bears. Never thought I'd be living like one now that I'm back in the lower 48. I'm bearlike in actions, but not purely driven by biological responses to environmental changes. I can identify with the self-protective elements of preparing to hibernate and the drive to pause, to adopt a slower pace for a while. Although the pace of my life feels slow right now, there still exists the need to allow myself an emotional and intellectual gestational period.

I have an idea for another way to anticipate moods! I'll label a thermometer: 30 degrees and under - BEAR, 60 - 40 SANE CRONE, 70 - GRUMP, 80+ - MUST REMAIN CHILLED OR WILL RAPIDLY DECAY.

Persistence (plus hands on hips)

I received a call telling me that I had left a puddle of oil in the driveway of my last client. Since I recalled running over a curb (that happens much too often), I assumed that I had hit the oil pan. When I checked my parking spot, there were drops of what appeared to be oil.

Off I went to a nearby store that has a garage. After my car was in the air, the mechanic showed me that the oil pan was fine. He mentioned that he did see that some fluid was leaking, but it was probably old. I asked for a possible reason why there would be such a large amount of fluid in my client's driveway. He said he could take a closer look, but I'd have to go get the bottom of my car steam-cleaned first. That's when I put my hands on my hips.

I asked again, in my best middle-aged, determined woman voice, if there was someone else who could take a look at it. He said there wasn't really anyone else available. I politely stood my ground and asked that he find someone else to take a look at it. The second mechanic discovered that another fluid was leaking and recommended a nearby full service garage (who looked it over, explained what was happening, and why it is not a situation that is urgent).

Pre-diagnosis, I would have had tears in my eyes, chin quivering, would have spoken as though the situation was life and death, and would be worried about what I was sure would absolutely have to be an engine overhaul at the very least. My mind would immediately develop a scenario featuring me living in the woods, penniless, car-less, and generally abandoned. There are coyotes who'd probably get me (see Germs vs Meds).

I am so pleased with myself. I hated all the drama that used to be part of my life and that I could in no way control. But just in case, I'll look around before leaving my apartment to see if any critters (coyotes, cougars, wild boars, poodles) are skulking around.

Distinguishing Between Plummets in Cycle and Days That Just Suck

I'm doing a better job of using Moodscope. I think my high point was the past couple of days where my score was in the 60's. Today I am down about 20 points. And I feel like I have PMS (not possible, thank goodness!) and anyone who ventures into my apartment might feel my wrath. Definitely growly today. I'll see what tomorrow brings and check my daily score before I make any assumption about whether I'm just having a rotten day or if I am headed downward.

Today is cold and dismal. I was scheduled to work five hours, but my client asked that I be on hold for 3 of the scheduled hours. Then, they cancelled on the balance. I'll be paid for 2 hours. Another client decided that he did not need the additional care that we provided. I may have another client beginning tomorrow. But right now, I'll only get paid this week for 7 hours of work. And next week I'm only scheduled for 5 hours.

I'm moving into semi-panic mode...not really, but I am trying to figure out ways to become more aggressive in my search for employment. I enjoy what I am doing right now. It feels good to be making life a bit easier for individuals in their 80's and 90's. I think that I take good care of them and they certainly give good feelings back to me. But the pay stinks.

My son reminds me that I somehow always seem to make things work out. Maybe the trick to sorting out all of this and finding inspiration is to pretend that I still am a single mother. But this time, I am the person who receives my care. Wow.

Maybe I've scattered my energy too much by worrying about individual aspects of my situation. Why worry about housing if I don't have an income? Why worry about medical care if I don't have an income? My first priority needs to be (this will go on the white board in large friendly letters) generating an income. Eureka!

But for now, I'm going to put on my pajamas, pull the grandmother quilt around me, and just think for a while. Then sleep. I'll wake up refreshed and knowing what should be done next.

Ways I Was Proactive Last Week

I did these good things for myself/had these good things happen to me last week:

1. I visited a state website and submitted information for a review to determine if I am eligible for public assistance of any sort.

2. I called the bank where I have a credit card and inquired about the possibility of making smaller payments. I explained to her that I had paid for credit protection insurance and my claim was rejected as untimely. She, unlike the previous rep I spoke with, advised me of my appeal rights. I wrote a beautiful letter and sent it to the appeals department.

3. I took my meds everyday -- as prescribed.

4. I ate at least once a day.

5. I received a new client which increased my hours worked from 10 to 22.

6. I went to church on Sunday and I got a big hug from a nice man. He shared his diagnosis with me (also a type of depression).

7. I took out three bags of trash and put more junk in the car to take to Goodwill.

8. I checked in with a friend every morning. She sat beside me in church and had a tissue ready in case I needed it. I didn't.

9. I attended my Chalice Circle meeting on Sunday. Unitarians have these small family-like groups called "Chalice Circles." This group, plus a few other people, were included in my coming out email. The group is a reminder that there is always someone out there who cares about my welfare.

10. I went grocery shopping with a list and only deviated from it once. I swear the chocolate was medicinal.

Not a bad week. My favorites were the hug and the chocolate.

I'm FREE!!

A couple of things today have really helped me feel lighter.

I observe the passage of the moon. At the new moon, I state an intention and light a candle; at the full moon, I express gratitude for whatever has transpired since the new moon -- whether or not it has anything to do with my intention. I light a candle at the time that I am setting an intention or expressing gratitude. Last night, when the candle exhausted itself, I breathed a giant sigh of relief. I had no idea why, but it felt good.

I watched "Groundhog Day" recently and have been considering what things I've kept doing over and if I can finally do them right so that I can progress.

I had a new client today. He is unable to speak, and is confined to bed. Communicating with him today was a real challenge. At one point, it appeared that he was about to spill his juice and I reached to put the cup back in an upright position. He would stare right at me and slant it until it almost spilled. He finally poured the juice out over his crotch. I didn't know what to make of his behavior. In the past, I would have found some way to blame myself. Instead, I called my supervisor, left a message describing the incident, and asked for her advice. I am strong and assertive now!

I am glad to be a crone! I am a menopausal, strong, wise, empathetic woman and I celebrate me! I am relieved to finally feel more in control of my own life. I consider the knowledge I have gained about myself through my diagnosis as wisdom that makes me stronger.

I am making progress. My mood feels like it is halfway between my lowest and highest points. It's so good to feel this way.

Maintaining Equilibrium While on Unemployment

I feel like being proactive today and that's a good sign.

Today is devoted to re-evaluating how I can meet my health and financial needs. I've been unemployed for a year, had a couple of months of severance pay, and withdrew my 401k funds, which I used to open a savings account.

Currently, my savings account has a small balance, I am working from 10 - 20 hours per week, and receive enough in unemployment benefits to keep my weekly income about equal to what unemployment alone would pay. I estimate that I have about twenty more weeks of benefits.

I'm not going to think about debt today; I'm just going to do my best to avoid any new debt.

Disability doesn't seem to apply to me, although I haven't exhausted researching that possibility. So far I've been able to find work where I'm not required to work at night (need to have a full night's sleep after night meds), I'm not in a large office atmosphere (being bombarded with a variety of sounds leads to my brain misinterpreting them), and my work situation is not stressful (except for the uncertainty of having enough work to provide the income that I need).

I need enough income to pay for (in order of importance):
Meds
Periodic visits to doctor
Shelter
Food
Transportation

I put shelter before food because to maintain I need a peaceful, calming, environment where I feel safe. I currently live in that type of situation.

About every three months, I do a critical reassessment of what I have to offer, how it can be used, and how much it is worth. Then I research related job opportunities or look at ways I could freelance or begin my own business.

Fortunately, I had been signed up for auto refills at my pharmacy and they usually processed those every twenty days. The dosage on some of my meds changed and the pharmacy never updated their records so I have a small stash. Two of my essential meds come in generic form and the other is frightfully expensive (I've included this in my monthly budget).

Research for employment opportunities and/or self-employment options takes priority today. In order to maintain equilibrium, for right now it must be first and foremost.

Inability to Accept Success

I just finished chairing a committee for a craft fair/festival at my church. The event was yesterday and everyone seemed very pleased with the outcome. As I was thanked or complimented on my part in the process, I found myself actively discounting my own role. I think it might be part of my Southern roots ("What a lovely dress you're wearing today." "This old thing?").

I put in two eleven hour days, only had a quick snack (sugary) on both days, had one cup of coffee (but counteracted that with a mug of "Tension Tamer" tea) -- basically did not take care of my basic needs. But the lovely endorphins had taken over. I loved being so involved, caught up in the preparations, stretching myself, heading up an incredible team of volunteers. I smiled, laughed a bit, and displayed that I was pleased with the event and its successful outcome. I even ventured into uncomfortable territory by briefly holding the microphone and speaking (my voice didn't shake!).

At the conclusion of the day I was physically tired, but I was also weary and teary.

No surprise at the dream I had last night: I was at a festival and was chosen as the queen. There were gifts showered on me, but the best of these could only be obtained by rowing across a lake filled with snakes and guarded by menacing, hostile people who tried to persuade me that I couldn't make it across. When I reached the other side I was overwhelmed at the additional items I received -- a house, glamorous wardrobe, private chef -- you get the idea. Then sunset came and I was locked in a cell without windows or any basic comforts. When someone finally came to the door, I was told that my final gift was that I was to be sacrificed to appease the gods (this is why I prefer goddesses!). Then I awoke.

What I came away with from this dream is that I feel more rewarded by working toward a goal than actually achieving it. Something more for me to ponder.

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy and Distress Tolerance Skills

I read some place that individuals with the diagnosis of BP2 are at the highest risk of suicide. One of the many things I learned last year in the hospital were Distress Tolerance Skills and how to use them to stay safe during a crisis.

Dialectical Behavioral Therapy was developed by Marsha Linehan of the University of Washington and it was developed to help treat individuals with Borderline Personality Disorder. An article about her recently appeared in the New York Time's series on mental illness entitled "Lives Restored".

The distress tolerance skills help you to accept yourself and your situation in an objective manner. The skills aid in tolerating distress, living in the moment, and surviving crisis. I recently wrote about one living in the moment skill where I envision myself watching events as though they were a train passing in front of me.

Today in church I found myself weeping again. Of course, the sermon was positive and the tears seem to always fall in those circumstances. During most of the service I self-soothed by rubbing the smooth surface of my watch and it became semi-automatic. It was when the kind, good, hard to accept things were mentioned, that I could no longer focus on the self-soothing.

I encourage you to learn more about this therapy and the distress tolerance skills.

Being Patient With Myself

Remember how I mentioned that Moodscope (see my favorite links) is an incredible tool and even the daily reminders are wonderful?

Today's reminder was exactly what I needed -- recovery from a drop in mood takes time. Time to be patient with myself.

Still don't feel like smiling, but I have noticed that I've dropped more weight -- my jeans are hanging from my hips and the legs are loose. Twenty pounds has come off, which isn't really a bad thing. When I had the episode that led to my diagnosis, I dropped forty pounds in less than a month. My appetite is not good or I forget to eat, but I need to remind myself that although things are rough right now, they're not as bad as the Spring and Summer of 2010.

Working on gratitude today and not being judgmental. And sipping a chocolate (it is medicinal) shake.

Considering All Factors

Fall episodes of depression have been part of my life since at least puberty. An exacerbating factor is the fact that my father's suicide occurred in the Fall. But I didn't factor in an incident that occurred just last year.

Last November my job was eliminated. There were ups and downs to that. The main up was that I was no longer living in fear of my job being eliminated -- it was done and I could get on exploring new paths. The main down has been the uncertainty of finding work that has health insurance and provides sufficient income.

But I had forgotten another down. My job was eliminated one week before Thanksgiving, two weeks before my birthday, and three weeks prior to my four year anniversary with the company. Last year I was not feeling like being thankful and my son celebrated with his employer's family. I added guilt to my sadness.

Things are better in that I'm at least partially employed and have set having funds for my meds as my first priority. Juggling bills is something that I have done many times in my life -- no surprises there. Although I spend my workdays taking care of others, I am not totally drained because I have accumulated friends -- friends who stick by me in hard times as well as good times. And I have an incredible son.

I can survive this current bout.

Today is a not so good day.

I had errands to run and fought back tears the whole time I was in public.

I can't think of a reason I should be sad, but I do feel this near overwhelming sadness. Of course, the weather is once again gloomy and I did not use my GLAD (Glorious Lumination Avoids Depression) light this morning so I will use it now. I ate, I took meds, I got busy doing things I've wanted to do around here. I took my meds last night and had a good night's sleep. But I am having trouble following through on the things that I wish to accomplish here today.

What I really feel like is wrapping up in the quilt my grandmother made and spending time in my rocking chair. Just rocking. One of my goals today is to move the chair to a different position where I won't feel like I'm sitting in a dark corner.

I need to retain my composure for 8 hours on Saturday. I don't feel like smiling and don't know if I'll feel like it on Saturday. Fortunately, I know where there's a closet where I can hide away for a bit if I need to. I came out to friends and now I'm thinking about going into a closet. Haha

The Perils of Having 90+ Year Old Clients

I used to think I wanted to live to be 100 years old; I'm rethinking that. My clients have been incredible people, but they are fragile in mind and body.

Today my client was non-responsive when I arrived. EMS arrived quickly and took him to the hospital. I found out later that he might be able to come back home. His wife, also my client, was strong and determined and right by his side. I would love to have the same type of loving relationship that they have -- absolutely devoted to each other and so delighted to be together.

So that has made me start thinking, but not in a positive way. I am already in the demographic of unemployed women who may never again be employed and I know I've heard of one prediction that women of my age are more likely to be killed by terrorists than to get married. I've been alone so very long. It feels like forever.

I want to get married or enter into a committed relationship with a man who is loving, honest, straight-forward, silly, intelligent, playful, responsible, faithful, sober, passionate, and who absolutely adores me. I should start visualizing this and putting this description on one of the white boards. First step in having this is believing that I am worthy and that it is possible.

So the depression is much less severe, but I am feeling sad.

I need to remember to eat

I'm feeling better in many respects, but I still have no appetite and I've tried to pick foods that will excite my sense of taste.

Sleeping is improving, but still not where it was pre-episode. I need to return to sleeping in my bed, not on the couch. But there's something so comforting about sleeping on the couch wrapped in a quilt my grandmother made. It brings to mind how babies can be comforted by swaddling. Just feeling touched.

I got an email from a from church friend(one I did not come out to) who said that she missed my smile. Seems to be that's what people have noticed. I haven't felt like smiling.

I go to work in a few hours and adopt my caretaker persona so that I can bring light to my client. She's going through a rough time and I am there to help her. It's not like when I worked in an office and could run to the bathroom when I could no longer hold back the tears.

Taking meds right after this period. (gulp)

90+%

I went over to a friend's house to discuss a project and realized that I'm probably at 90% of my average (since diagnosis). I laughed some, was kind of subdued, and even though the conversation went in directions that would have caused tears a few days ago, I was okay. I had coffee today without a negative impact.

Not judgmental, not gloomy, just a bit subdued.

Yep, I can handle that.

So much for sleeping

I decided against the Lunesta because I thought I could sleep well without it. And I did. But now I'm awake and a little agitated. Which is why I am writing again.

I'm headed uphill. There's still some pain that I can't identify, but I trust that will pass and I will eventually understand it. Up and down is how my life has been and how it will be. Maybe I've jumped in with two feet instead of wading in. Tonight no part of my life feels right. I'll examine it later this week and figure out what I can change or even whether or not anything does need to change. But I suspect that the answer will be that more is right than wrong. At least I'm not crying or experiencing racing thoughts (hmm...this paragraph seems to be the product of racing thoughts).

And the truth is that if I quit taking care of myself and don't take my meds consistently, I'll find myself back in a hole. I owe it to myself to take good care of myself.

I've moved from weepy today to almost analytical. Dehydration? There's pain, but I know it will pass and it's not as deep as it was a few days ago. The support of friends has helped reduce this rough spell and helped me step back to gain perspective.

To end on a South Pacific note, I'll sing part of the chorus of "Happy Talk": "You've got to have a dream, if you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true."

Dreams: This looks like another way to use my white board.

Silly Unitarians

I went to church today and I felt so-so. I had to leave once but only stayed out 10-15 minutes. This was our annual Halloween themed service and many of the congregants were in costume. The service featured survivors of the apocalypse and the characters were mixed between serious and silly. And I got a hug from the minister. All in all, not a bad Sunday.

One of the reasons that I visited this church was that on its homepage is a sentence including the word "JOY" in large friendly letters. Eureka!

I have found a home there and my support group are all members there. And they can be serious, passionate, and absolutely Marx Brothers silly. Did you know that every season of 30 Rock has a joke about Unitarians?

My kind of place.

I'm okay today. I missed my meds this morning, got lightheaded in church because I had forgotten to eat, but everything has been corrected. I've been trying to watch a documentary on Mark Twain and I started reading Volume 1 of Twain's autobiography. I've always been a fan and I think that's because of his struggle with depression. But I'm going to find something lighter to read.

My son came over yesterday and cleaned my kitchen while I tackled my living room floor. I am constantly being surprised and awed by him.

Tonight I will treat myself gently and find something light to read. I'll start the new week refreshed and willing to embrace better days.

Tears Again

I am having another long cry. Not sure exactly why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that tomorrow will be the first time I'll be seeing most of the people I asked for support. I'm a little nervous. And ashamed.

I've heard from all but one. And I'm feeling hurt that I haven't heard from him. Silly of me. I've been there for him and I'm doubting that he'll return the gesture. I can't control how someone feels about me. And I need to quit imagining the worst. I am questioning why I give comfort before I receive (which is how it feels although it's probably not true) although that just seems to be something I've done forever. Appearing open when I actually feel closed -- locked safely away. I'm believing that no one will be there for me, despite the friends that have reached out, because I used to take care of my mother and my sister and I grew used to never expecting anyone to take care of me -- or not believing that I am worthy of anyone's attention or love or respect or any of those good things. Damn. I hurt.

I'm not going to stuff my feelings. I'll concentrate on my breathing in order to get through the service. Tomorrow's is supposed to be uplifting and fun. Sometimes that makes it worse because I don't exactly feel like laughing just yet.

I am hurting so I will let the tears flow while I am safely at home. Maybe that will exhaust the supply before tomorrow.

Damn fears and loneliness and groundless or grounded worries and other things. I need to quit anticipating the actions of others, stay open, and stay true to myself.

Tonight I am hurting. I'll let myself cry. I'll take a long shower. I'll take my meds. I'll take a Lunesta if I can't sleep. I'll keep breathing in and out. I'll find something to distract me. Damn.

Half a cup

Today I feel strong enough to risk having coffee, although it might be the cause of my hands shaking. Half a cup with sugar (I usually take it black) and I know that's not a good combination. But I am feeling more focused.

Took my meds. My son is coming over. I am working on my freelance project although I'm frustrated at my typing. So far so good. No negative thoughts right now, but I still feel vulnerable, like it wouldn't take much to partially lose the ground I've gained.

I called my sister this morning and left a message for her to call me back. I'm going to get our cousin's number (who's been like a big sister to me) so I can give her some love while she deals with her mother's death.

I'll go to church tomorrow. I think I'll be okay. But I may start crying because people are being nice to me. I need to be more accepting of the kindness of others. It is normal for me to offer kindness to someone I see who is hurting. I need to give myself that same kindness.

Trying to understand triggers

It's typical NW fall weather -- rainy and cool. Gloomy.

I know I took my meds this morning, but I don't think I ate breakfast, I know I didn't eat lunch, and I've only eaten some jello that my client offered me. I need to remedy that situation, but I don't want to eat -- no appetite, no interest whatsoever. And I know that I didn't turn on the SAD (got to rename that!)light this morning.

I'm glad that my son is coming over. He understands these dark times because he has also experienced them. My father committed suicide in October of 1999. That just adds to my seasonal gloom. I made a rescue run for my son last year about this time because he was hurting. We drove around for a few hours and he talked until he felt able to go back home. I know his visit will do me good. I hope that he is not also having a hard time.

I ache. My client was listening to classical music when I arrived and the sound of the violins triggered something. It was all I could do to keep from crying. When I went to fetch something for her there was a string quartet performing in the next room. Again, it felt like my heart was being ripped out. I don't know why it had that effect. Red River Valley makes me start sobbing and I have no idea what that is associated with either.

So I'm doing kinda better overall with mood (I think that's true), but I'm not taking care of my physical needs. I have a freelance project that I need to work on (I could really use the money, too), but I need to wait until I've released some of the hurt before I attempt any task that needs my concentration.

Tomorrow I should go work out. We'll see.

Wide awake at 3 am

Took my night med and quickly fell asleep. But I haven't slept enough for me to function properly. But did come up with a screen name that I like and which doesn't seem to be taken.

Having a cup of sleepytime tea to hopefully help me get a few more hours rest. My brain needs that extra rest if I'm to get back to my "normal".

Looking forward to today.

NOW GO BACK TO SLEEP!

Opening Up

I have shared this blog with two of the friends that I went to for support. I feel naked. It has been years since I've let anyone in this much. I need to stay open with the people I've allowed into my life. I'll work on it.

I worked today and that helped lift my mood. I realized a few weeks ago that my client physically reminds me of my mother and her behavior, sense of humor, and good nature remind me of the mother I wish I had. I am helping her and she is helping me. Although Angels aren't allowed to talk about their personal lives, we have shared things about our families and found common ground in the books we've read, the places we've traveled to, and our general outlook on life. Today she showed me how to start a bonsai tree!

I bought some groceries -- the cupboard had been pretty bare because I didn't want to eat anything, had no appetite at all. Not even for chocolate.

I took my meds this morning, didn't eat breakfast, checked in with a friend, went to work and tried to bring light to my client. I love to hear her laugh!

I've been camping on my couch for months now. My goal for this weekend is to get back in my bed!

My son is coming over tomorrow and he's always full of news, nonsense, and plain old silliness. I'm looking forward to it.

Overall, not a bad day, but still not back where I was. Tomorrow should be better.

A half step backward -- or so it feels

I did some good things for myself today.  I quit sitting in the dark and turned on the lights in my apartment.  I took my meds.  I met a friend for hot beverages and discovered delicious Mayan hot chocolate.  In an effort to avoid isolating, I went to my church's weekly community dinner and sat at a table with friends.  I mostly just picked at my food.  I felt alone.  And that's when the tears started.

I'm not sure why or if there was any trigger at all.  I just said goodnight and scooted out to my car where I sat and let the tears fall for awhile.

Now that I'm home I won't fight the crying for awhile.  I'll see what I can do to remind myself of the positive and let what happens happen.  And I'll re-read the positive messages I've received.

But right now I am hurting.

Another step forward

I had hot beverages with a friend yesterday (notice that it wasn't coffee no matter how much I craved it).  She's the friend I can always giggle with.  No matter how serious our conversation, we always end up in giggles.  She expressed her support, brought me a lovely crocheted angel, and shared ideas that she thought would help.

I worked on watching the train go by yesterday -- my term for one of the DBT techniques.  Detaching myself from everything else happening and just being in now -- just not taking it all personally.  It helped keep negative thoughts at bay.

I analyzed my expenses yesterday and was objective.  I identified purchases that I didn't need to make and that really did not add to my life.  Nice proactive move on my part.

I have another day of meds under my belt.  I've set an alarm on my cell phone to prompt me to take my meds.  It worked today and last night.  Now I have a visual reminder - the mediset on or beside the computer -- and I've added sound.  That feels like another step in the right direction.

Emails from my doctor and other friends were also received yesterday and I feel blessed to have these wonderful people in my life.  And I told them so.

Today I work and I will put my feelings in a little unlocked silver box so that I can bring light to my client.
I will take another positive step toward getting myself back to where I want to be after I get back home.

I am proud of myself today

I emailed some friends and came out to them, explaining that I am having a hard time right now.

I am proud of myself for taking this very hard step.  I am also proud of myself for being friends with such a wonderful group of people.

2 good things

I have good intentions today.  I am meeting one of the friends for coffee (definitely decaf!) and I will take my meds as soon as I've had breakfast -- which is about to get started.

I plan to empty my dining table and use the top to sort through the papers that have accumulated on the top of my desk.

2 good intentions

I'm not feeling self-destructive today.  Although I might have acted that way yesterday by coming out to friends.  I guess I will learn more about my friends this way or they will distance themselves from me.

I will work on not having expectations of the actions of others.  Stay in now.

I will review the DBT material I received in the hospital and read some of the helpful books (my owners manuals) that have seen me through previous episodes.  I'll use my white boards -- all of them.

Coming out and asking for support

I've been weepy the past two days and having a hard time getting back on track.  I have 2 days of being back on meds under my belt so I know that I'm headed in the right direction.  I am isolating and my job isn't the sort that will allow supportive friendships.  I'm not eating properly, not sleeping properly, and just started using the SAD light again.

I went to church this morning because I knew it would be good for me and I needed to feel that sense of community.  But I left the service because I couldn't stop crying.

I need some support and I recognize that.  I will email a few friends and let them know what is happening with me and ask for their support.

And my aunt died this morning.

Taking care of myself today means I trust other people (never been my strong suit), ask them for support, and ask that they check in with me during this week.

We Know What We Need

I came across this article in today's New York Times about a woman with schizoaffective disorder, how she takes care of herself, and what her doctor has learned from her.  It's worth reading.  It's part of a series on mental illness called "Lives Restored."

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/23/health/23lives.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&src=ig

On some level, I believe all of us with BP2 know what we need.  I can only speak for myself, but from conversations with others who are dueling with depression, it seems that sometimes all we need is permission from ourselves to put ourselves first.  And to end the duel and embrace everything about ourselves.

I am in my typical autumn slump exacerbated by my current financial situation, my aunt died today, and I went through debt counseling yesterday (the advice was to see an attorney).  Things suck.  But I've been through worse and I know that I always find a way to get back up.  I am grateful that I have a doctor who wants me to email her, I have my meds, I'm taking care of my basic needs, and I am a member of two communities (my church and a women's fitness center -- I barter for my membership) who will help lift me up and allow me to lift up others when they are in need.

Germs vs Meds

I have the crud.  I remembered my meds this morning, but really, really wish I could feel safe to use one of those nice, warming, soothing, relaxing, multi-symptom cold/flu jewel toned liquids that would at least put me out of my misery for a bit.  Staying out of the way of my meds is more important than my physical discomfort.  But that's the least of my whines today.

What I really hate is that when I'm not feeling well the "well, you know there's a way to end all of this" thoughts come up very quickly.  It's a battle.

My old worries come back to haunt me.  I'll die alone in this apartment and no one will even know until the coyotes start scratching at my door. (Yes, there have been some spotted in the neighborhood.  An official announcement from the property manager was taped to my front door yesterday.  It's a known fact that property managers take an oath to always be truthful to their tenants; ergo, the pack of wild coyotes are roaming the property, crouched behind dumpsters, waiting under the stairs... wait, I live under the stairs...watching for me to make one foolish move.) I'll become even less competent at handling my own affairs and end up broke living in the woods waiting for the coyotes to come put me out of my misery.  I'll have to sell my car for a fraction of what's it's worth in order to pay for a place to rent, but I won't get enough for it and end up broke in the woods...coyotes.  The trend is clear.

I'm trying everything today to reach and maintain equilibrium.  It's hard.  I used to think that at my core was a mad woman.  Now, I think that at my core is a calm, pragmatic woman who trusts herself to make right decisions and take positive actions.  Sometimes it's just harder for her to surface.

Just in case.... www.google.com: urban coyote attacks of middle aged crazy women zoloft kills coyotes?

It's All My Fault

As I've heard in the past, it's all my fault.  I'm too sensitive.  I worry too much.  I am not capable of doing the things I wish to do.  No one loves me.  That includes the dog.

Yes, I'm still not taking my meds properly. My work schedule has not gelled yet and my mind is jello.  I don't have a dog, so that negative message is one I can easily dismiss.  But I bet that no dog would come near me. Not even to bite me.

Stinking thinking.

My apartment will never be clean and organized.  It reflects my state of mind right now.  Sort of jumbled.  Similar objects not grouped together.

Because I've been exhausted after work, I've missed working out for a couple of weeks.  I'm not sure if that's an excuse or the truth.  I'm not trusting myself very much.

The one thing I can be certain of is that these feelings will pass.  I'll do a better job of taking my meds at the proper times.  I'll make a date with myself on my calendar to work out.  And I won't check it off unless I've actually done it.  Ok, I give myself a 50% chance of really doing that.  And start using my SAD light again.

I'm better now, even though I'm in a low part of my cycle, than I have ever been in my life.  Because I know now.  I have tools that work.  I know how to work at keeping myself safe and being realistic about changes.

The blessing of having this diagnosis is knowing that the ride up and down the scale will always be there.  Now that I'm on meds, I don't have to worry about spending YEARS in this low place.  It will pass.

So today I will take care of myself.  Watch a funny DVD.  Play an online game that I can win.    Spend at least 15 minutes creating order from chaos.  Eat. Take my evening meds and get a good night's sleep.

How to Have a Bad Week

Recipe for a bad week:

Miss 3 doses of Zyprexa, thereby missing hours of sleep
Miss 3 doses of Zoloft and Lamictal, thereby being a fuzzy head who can't find the right words
Show up late for work
Put in overtime with one client
Lose mentor for big project
Find out the hard way that 90 year old clients set their thermostats to match their ages

Missing meds has caught up with me this week.  I was tired during work.  And hot.  And achy from a surprising amount of physical labor.

My mood dropped below my usual low point.  Today I have a bad attitude and can't see an upside to any situation.

But the blessing is that, if I get back on my medication regimen today, my days will get better long enough for me to regain my optimism.  And I hold on tight to that truth.

I know there's a pony in there....

Reconciling Pre-Meds Commitments to Post-Meds Reality

Over the twelve month period between my diagnosis and the discovery of the correct meds (Zoloft, Lamictal, and Zyprexa), I've made a number of commitments -- commitments I'm now reassessing.  I only worked about a month during the last twelve months.  While working toward a state of balance, I did volunteer work, read the books I've meant to read, explored my creativity and spirituality, and did dozens of things for which I never had time pre-diagnosis.

Prior to my diagnosis I was Superwoman (not manic Superwoman, just hypo-manic Superwoman; the difference lies in how high and how long I could fly).  I was the employee who was first to volunteer, who never complained about overtime, who took on assignments without considering whether I could or should take on another task.  My boss loved me and my co-workers hated me.  Now I am beginning a job where I am assigned work and there is no chance for me to take on any more.  That's a VERY good thing.

However, I've continued to volunteer and I have often accepted additional projects for several committees.  I needed ways to keep myself busy and I saw the good that came from my efforts.  Most of this time we were still juggling dosages and my environment was usually stress free.  Now that I have a job, I realize that I may not have enough time to meet my commitments or I may not have taken into account how the stress (both positive and negative) would exacerbate my mild side-effects and thereby impact the performance of the tasks.

Overall, my meds do a good job.  A remaining symptom that is sometimes problematic (especially when I'm feeling stressed) is that my mind still tries to interpret some mechanical sounds (a refrigerator motor running, air conditioning, the water pump in the aquarium) as words -- my name being the most common interpretation.  I know that the words my mind creates are not true reflections of the sounds; I feel like I have this under control and it has no negative effect on the quality of my life.

I regard my side-effects as mild; they are language and memory related.  I feel thick-tongued and words come out slightly modified.  As an example, I might say "kick" instead of "quick," "flight" instead of "fight," or have other similar words come out of my mouth instead of the word that I wanted to say.  I can quickly make the correction, but I fear being perceived as an idiot.  I sometimes can't find the word or name, but after running through the alphabet in my mind, I arrive at the correct word.  There are similar problems with writing.  I re-read, re-read, and re-read everything that I write.  There are few typos, but are often many missing words, incorrect numbers, or other problems that makes the text difficult to understand or incorrect.  The writing problem bugs me, but I have adopted methods to work around this that work about 99% of the time.  I am mildly disorganized, which has never been a problem in the past; in fact, I was known for my organizational skills.  Again, I can make corrections, but am concerned about the perception.   I don't think that my ability to perform the jobs are impaired.   I don't know if I want to come out of the closet in order to explain to those individuals with whom I work closely that I'm really not spacey or unqualified to perform these duties.  Or if that just might make things worse.  Crazy, spacey, and incompetent.

I don't know the solution to this yet, but am taking it to the big white board and have given myself three weeks to sort it out.

Maybe I could convince everyone that I have ill fitting dentures or have two left-hands or love to rhyme...

Self-Doubt vs Reality

Today I am full of self-doubt and I began the day by beating myself up because I don't believe I performed well in my new job.  I don't need to dwell on this today (I can be more objective in a few days) so I'm using the white board beside my desk.  There are six questions that I believe I should answer before I can determine how well I performed my duties.

These are the questions I've written on the board:

1.  What was my duty?
2.  How (in what method) did I perform it?
3.  What could I have done differently?
4.  What will I do in the future?
5.  Does what I feel reflect reality?
6.  Have I received any feedback?

And I leave these questions alone.  I know that I'll be processing these as I go about the next day or so.   They are on the board so I will see them until I have found answers and recorded those answers on the board.  Just the act of writing these questions has lightened my mood a bit.

I got up (I am in an upright position, not in bed, not on the couch).
I got out (well, I will later when I run a scheduled errand).
I got on with it (I ate breakfast, took meds, have been puttering around doing small jobs, and am blogging).

Tabling my worry is a positive step in my self-care.  I will do the best I can today at other things trusting that I will be able to address these questions later, learn from my answers, and acknowledge that I did beneficial things, too.

Positive thing to do today:  Google bipolar 2 blogs and review them for helpful suggestions.

Starting a New Job

If I had planned this better....if I had planned this at all, I would have scheduled my first day at my new job to coincide with about day 5 or 6 of my cycle.  It's not going so well (keep in mind this is day 3).

I have been unemployed for 9 months, with only 1 interview, 1 temp assignment, and a semi-aggressive self-marketing campaign.  The COBRA coverage was too expensive.  Walgreens has a very good prescription savings program which has made the difference between my buying my meds or juggling doses to maintain.  Things have seemed grim at times (especially days 1 - 3), but I've been able to count on days 5-7+ to help me maintain perspective.  I have survived.

The self-marketing paid off with an assignment spending 2 hours 1 day a week as a companion to a charming 85 year old woman.  It's been a rewarding experience; we have a weekly tea party where we'll chat, with very little coaxing from me.  It feels like an equal exchange.  An AHA moment!  I recognized that this type of service is in demand as more people try to find ways to remain in their homes as they age.  I crafted a kick-ass cover letter and got a job!

Because there are certification requirements, right now I am limited to companionship assignments.  It is hard for case managers to find 40 hours of work for me each week.  I am making plans to get the needed training.  But what I've been discovering in the past two days is that maybe this is/isn't a perfect fit for me for the following reasons:

My schedule is fluid:  Down side - I don't know from week to week when or where I'll be working.  I've missed morning meds one day.  Another day I felt drained at the end of my shift, fell asleep right after getting home and missed my night meds.  Up side - A flexible schedule allows me to continue doing some of the volunteer work I've enjoyed during unemployment.  Many of my clients will have dementia and may be able to start each day with a clean slate.  I've been able to keep my frustrations inside, but I have to use old tricks to  wash them down the drain when I get home.

I work alone:  Down side - There is no one to provide feedback on the performance of my duties.  There is no one to remind me that it's not necessarily my fault when my client is just having a bad day.  Up side -   I have the freedom to be creative in my discovery of a new client.

I must take extra good care of myself:  Down side - Fluid schedule means that I have to work harder to maintain a regular daily schedule.  I feel the need to keep my "no trespassing" wall up so that I don't take on the problems of others -- I can't be effective if I can't maintain a safe distance.  This is draining so I need to find another approach to this.  When breakfast is skipped, a protein bar can't be lunch.  Up side - I will be taking better care of myself.

I must have an income so I must work so I absolutely must take excellent care of myself -- mind, body, and soul.

More on this another time.

Moodscope and how it can help

One of the most useful tools that I've discovered is www.moodscope.com .  This site was created by someone who has experienced depression.  By describing twenty different feelings, a numerical value (from 0 to 100) is assigned that indicates your mood for the day.  Lately I've been skipping days which is a sure sign that I need to review the level of care I'm providing for myself.  The best results are obtained by recording your score every day.

My favorite feature is the graph.  Your daily scores are plotted on the graph and you can quickly see whether your mood is headed up or down.  Now that I've been using it for a while, I know that my lowest days may be in the twenties and my highest days are usually in the mid-seventies.  I know that immediately after that high day, I'll see a plummet, a jump over the cliff.  And that's normal for me.

Because you can review your scores over several months, you can also determine your cycle.  For example, I'm cycling from seven to ten days.  This is fantastic information for me!  All those creative projects I've started, including this blog, are things I work on during the three to five days before I reach the summit.  Knowing when I'll reach the summit allows me to plan for the abyss.  Reading one of my selections of humor books  (favorite is A Subtreasury of American Humor) or watching a comedy (my current favorite is the Naked Gun triology or the first season of 30 Rock) are guaranteed to make me laugh, or at least grin.  I try to schedule lunch with a friend or a workout session for those days when I know that I'll need a lift.

Daily email reminders may be received and you can even allow your doctor, therapist, or loved one to see your results.  The email reminders are cheery and contain personal accounts of the creator's challenges and how they were overcome.  The email reminders alone are worth the time it takes to register for this site.

Go on now.  It's time for you to check it out.  www.moodscope.com .