Tuesday, December 17, 2013

3 hours

I leave for the airport in just over 3 hours and I can't sleep.  I barely slept last night, so I should be tired, but my mind just won't quit.  I'm terrified to be around a bunch of people I don't really know (and the sister that thinks I'm making up all my health issues) for 2 weeks.  I'm terrified that something will happen and Blake won't be there to help me.  I did get new medical alert necklace with my aunts phone number instead of Blake's, so at least if I do end up in the hospital they'll have someone local to contact.

I got all packed today and I'm sure I'm missing something important.  I still don't have a new wheelchair, so I'll only have my walker.  I'm really hoping they're not expecting me to do a lot of walking or I'm screwed.  I've been debating bringing the loaner chair I have, but I can't push myself in it because the arm rests are too high and I can just barely reach the wheels.  So if I did bring it I would be completely dependent on someone else, which I don't like.  So I'm leaving it and just taking my crappy walker.

On the up side I'm really excited to maybe meet a friend that I met online a few months ago.  She lives in Portland and assuming we can both get an afternoon free we're planning to meet up for lunch.  I really hope it works out.  I'm sure I could use the break from family for a while.

I'm a bit worried about leaving Blake home alone.  I'm worried he's not going to take care of himself.  I know it's silly, and surely he will, but I still worry.

Well, I should maybe try to lay down again.  Hopefully I'll have more luck this time.  But with my luck I'll probably lie there wide away until 20 minutes before I have to get up and then exhaustion will hit me like a MAC truck.  Here's to hoping I can actually get some sleep.

Monday, December 16, 2013

And more testing

I had my post-op appointment this morning and surprise surprise, they still have no idea why I keep miscarrying.  My doctor ordered more labs that I had done a couple years ago but he's wanting to re-do them just in case because he's out of ideas.  Assuming they all come back normal, he wants to send me to an RE for more specific testing.  I don't know, though.  Taking that step scares the shit out of me.  It's like admitting defeat that something is definitely wrong.

I'm still looking for new doctors since my GP doesn't accept Medicaid.  But of the 8 practices I've tried to get in with that say they're accepting new patients, all of them have turned me down for some bullshit reason or another.  I still need a new psychiatrist as well, but there seems to only be the one group of psychiatrists in town and I don't trust them.  There's something creepy going on there and I'm not risking them poisoning me and ruining my life again.

On the upside I'm leaving for Oregon in less than 2 days!  So hopefully that will be a nice break from all this.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Lab results are in.

Well, I guess I haven't updated in a while.  So first things first, I'm not pregnant anymore.  I went in at just over 11 weeks and there was no heartbeat as usual.  Everything looked great, everything was forming/growing normally up until just before the scan, but no heartbeat.  So that sucked.

We had a few more tests done and I got those results today.  Everything came back normal.  So still no closer to knowing why this keeps happening than we were a few years ago.

The next guess is that maybe it's my weird breathing thing that no one has ever been able to figure out.  My MFM thinks maybe I'm just too hypoxic and something about when it switches over to the placenta it's causing problems.  I don't know.  It made sense when he said it and I thought I had a grasp on it but now I'm a little more confused.  Essentially, if I want to try to get pregnant again he'll be more diligent with checking my O2 levels and maybe put me on oxygen during the pregnancy.  Assuming we try again.

I'm still not sure what I want to do.  I'm sick of being told that since there was no reason the chances of it happening again are so slim because clearly that's done me no good in the past and it just makes me more frustrated/sad that the chances are so slim and yet I still can't stay pregnant because my body fucking hates me.

So here I am.  Sad and quickly on my way to becoming an alcoholic.  Okay, not really because I'm aware and I'm not going to be drinking so much anymore, but I would be perfectly fine being drunk and only half-aware for the next few months.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Not as Easy

Well, so far all the feeling terrible is paying off because I'm 9 weeks pregnant.  Unfortunately it looks like this one isn't going to be as simple as the one early this year.  I had high hopes that maybe something was different that caused my hallucinations to be pretty much gone while I was pregnant.  But no.  They're still here and more annoying than ever.

I'm terrified of how this is going to affect me down the road if this pregnancy continues.  I see my therapist tomorrow and I'll talk to her about it, but I really want to try and avoid the anti-psychotics as long as possible.

My anxiety has been pretty high, but I've been able to deal with it so far.  I'm really really hoping to stay out of the hospital this time.  Although, if it comes down to it, I am a little more comfortable with going now that the shit doctor is gone and my old psychiatrist has replaced him.  So there's that.

Morning sickness has been kicking my ass lately.  Looking in my purse is just comical.  I've got a few barf bags I stole from the hospital, a thing of tums, some glucose tabs, a bottle of Zantac, a bottle of Phenergan, an assortment of candy scattered in the bottom, tooth brush, tooth paste, mouthwash, and a small reusable grocery bag.  I feel more like I'm carrying a fancy first aid kit. 

I have what my doctor is guessing is probably a broken rib (yes, again) from vomiting.  It hurts so much more than the upper one this summer.  It hurts when I breath, when I laugh, if I move wrong.  It sucks.

I'm doing my best to eat anything and keep fluids down, but I'm failing pretty miserably.  I've lost another 4 lbs since the weekend and I have a feeling it's all water weight from dehydration.  I'm going to call my doctor in the morning to see what I should do.  I'm just really hoping I can make it the hour or more drive to my appt tomorrow.

I'm out of things to say so I'll shut up now.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Here's hoping.

I was really hoping that this pregnancy would be like my others this year and whatever changes happening would make my schizophrenia symptoms not quite so bad.  Unfortunately, I don't think that's the case this time.  They've actually gotten a bit worse at times and I'm not liking it.  I'm still hopeful that they will get better once my stress levels go down a bit, but I don't know.

I've not been feeling great.  I've had pretty bad morning sickness and I've been cramping pretty bad for the last few days.  On top of all that, physically I've been feeling like shit because of the weather changes and all that comes with that.  I can't wait until it's just cool all the time and not going back and forth so much.

I've not been sleeping well, so I know that makes the hallucinations worse and I really need to make sure I get more sleep.  I'm terrified that I'll have another seizure and something bad will happen.  I don't know.  It's useless to worry.  I just need to focus on staying positive for now.

On a happier note, we found a store downtown that sells top hats!  We were walking around downtown on his lunch break Saturday and decided to stop in and look.  We found a really nice one that looks amazing on him!  It was $135, so we called it his early birthday present and now he has an amazing top  hat!  He still hasn't gotten dressed up for me, but I'm hoping he will later this week.  He looks so good in it!

Friday, October 18, 2013

Here we are.

Well, I'm pregnant!   Due June 11, 2014.  I've been feeling really awful the last week or so and my go-to ways of making it better just aren't cutting it.

I'm trying to stay hopeful that this time will finally be the one, but I just can't shake the feeling that I'm just killing time until it's over. 

I don't really have much else to say at this point, just that I feel miserable. 

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Do you hear that?

Because I do, and it's driving me crazy!  For the last couple months I keep hearing what sounds like music, but it's not quite loud enough to really identify.  Even turning something on for background noise doesn't always get rid of it.  Though usually it helps.  I keep thinking my phone is ringing, but no.  I wake up in the middle of the night because it's so annoying.  It's really frustrating.

Oh, and I keep smelling something dead.  I swear the lady upstairs killed something and is just keeping it in her apartment.  Every once in a while I get a really strong whiff of it while I'm sitting at my computer.  Smells from the hall creep under the door and I can smell them.  Of course, there aren't actually any smells (and I have no idea who lives upstairs).  It's just my brain fucking with me.  But it's gross nonetheless.  Why can't I ever get random GOOD smells?

Anyways, new topic.  My very close friends wife is in the hospital.  She tried to kill herself this afternoon.  I feel so helpless.  I hate that he is going through this right now.  I've decided to make a few freezer meals for him so he can at least not have to worry about food for himself or his kids.  I just wish there was something more I could do.  I made sure he knew what she would need while she's in there (clothes, toiletries, books, etc.) and told him about how visitation works and all that.   I just feel awful for their whole family.  His daughter is 7 and I can only imagine what she must be thinking.  Luckily (maybe?) she has been around me her whole life and knows that being in the hospital doesn't mean that someone is dying or something.  She's seen me be "sick" and has a pretty good grasp on mental health issues for how young she is.  But yeah.

I'm off to cook/bake for the rest of the night.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Not Much To Say

Well, it's Friday.  I've been having seizures much less frequently, though I did have one last Thursday.  I was at the bus station when it happened and was taken to the ER.  Everything is obviously fine, but I wish there was a way I could leave my picture there with my information so this would stop happening.

Anyways, other than that not much has happened.  I did discover that my sensory issues are possibly linked to the schizophrenia.  Not that there's much to be done about it, but I guess it's good to know?  Doesn't really matter in the long run, but knowing that it's not just in my head and me being picky gives me hope that maybe I can learn to deal with it better.

I'm hoping to be able to make some pumpkin cookies and/or muffins today or this weekend.  I just realized I'm out of eggs, so I need to get groceries first.  But I'm looking forward to it.  I'd also like to make some gingerbread cookies, but I'm not sure when I'll do that.  (If they turn out alright, maybe I'll add a picture.)

I have a list of things I need to get done today, but I'm being lazy.  I'm tired and I think my husband gave me his cold.  So that's it for me.

Monday, September 9, 2013

I'm still here

I haven't been around here much lately.  I've been a bit distracted.  Mostly, I just have no sense of time at all.  I've still not really been sleeping much regardless of what I do or don't do.

I feel like I'm mostly healed from my falls a few months ago.  My shoulder and chest still hurt a little once in a while, but for the most part they're fine.   Also, the awesome chair we ordered ended up not being able to be ordered because I'm apparently too short/fat for the Quickie we were looking at.  So it's been a huge headache trying to get that all straightened out.  The sales guy was supposed to stop by yesterday with a Tsunami chair for me to try to see if I like that, and if it works we'll probably go with that one.  But he blew me off yet again.  So hopefully he'll call today so we can get things going.  Fingers crossed.

I haven't weighed myself in a while.  I'm kind of scared to.  I know I've been gaining weight.  I see my dietitian again today and hopefully she'll be able to give me some new ideas.  I'm at a complete loss right now.

I think it's been 2 weeks since I've had a seizure!  I'm pretty excited about it.  I thought I was at 2 weeks last week, but apparently I was wrong.  I'm just glad I haven't been having as many lately.

I was talking to my husband about maybe getting a cat.  I've always been pretty hesitant about indoor cats, but lately I've been wanting a pet or something to keep me company.  Maybe a dog would be better?  I could take a dog on walks and such and that would be good to get me out more often.  I don't know.  We're both definitely more cat people than dog people, but my sister in laws oldest dog is so much fun and we both really enjoy playing with her.  So I don't know.  Maybe we'll look at dogs, too.

Anyways, not really much else to say right now.  Just wanted to update a bit.

Monday, August 12, 2013

It's been a while.

So things have been up and down lately.  Time seems to be passing and I don't really feel like I have anything to do with reality.  I don't know how to explain it.  Like things are happening around me, but I'm not really there.  I feel very disconnected from my life.

We got the genetic testing results back from the doctor and everything looked good.  I've been eating gluten free for almost 2 months now and taking lots of vitamins and supplements to get my levels back to where they should be.  Hopefully that's enough to make this happen.

I've been in a lot of physical pain lately.  I'm mostly blaming the weather, but I'm also not on any pain meds right now, so I'm sure that's not helping.  I can't sleep.  When I am able to, I feel like I can't wake up.  I walk around feeling like a zombie all day, but not able to actually sleep.  I need to get back to the sleep specialist to figure out if anything can be done to help my sleep situation.  It's been bad.

My moods have been pretty up and down.  Well, that's not completely accurate.  I don't feel like I ever really get depressed or manic since being off the meds.  But I do get very agitated over things that shouldn't bother me.  Sometimes it just takes a song making a weird noise and it's like I flip my shit and can't calm down.  I hate it.  I wish I could just think rationally at moments like that, but I can't.  I lose it and I feel so awful and out of control.  All over a fucking weird noise.

Come to think of it, I think the large majority of my irrational outbursts/feelings are sound/noise related.  I don't like things that sound strange or obnoxious or suddenly get loud or even quiet things that are so quiet I can't quite make them out.  I just can't handle it.  It's sort of the same with bright lights or flashing signs or the background of a TV show.  Any sort of flashing bright anything and I get this horrible feeling like something is so completely wrong.  It's very similar to a panic attack, but without the fear.  I just get angry and irrational and so completely overwhelmed by it all.

I have been able to find solace in reading forums online.  I'm trying to be social and it's kind of nice.  I don't have to be anything I don't feel like being and I don't have to worry about what people think of me because they have no idea who I am.  That's not to say I don't care what they think of me, but I don't have to pretend to be anyone I don't want to be.  I can be me.  I don't have to explain anything.  They don't have to know that I'm anything but average.  And that's comforting.  There's no pressure to hide who I am.  Though, honestly, I still do.

We've decided to go ahead and try and get pregnant again even though the losses this year were really hard on both of us.  I'm really hoping we get lucky this month or next, because if we don't I think I'll have to stop.  I really need to get back on my meds.  Being off of them was never a long term solution.

Monday, July 15, 2013

How Crazy Do I Look?

During conversation about the new DSM-5 coming out and such I commented that it frustrated me how, as criteria for certain Dx's, you have to "appear" a certain way to the doctor.

That got me thinking (not until 2 days later, because THANK YOU INSOMNIA!), what difference does it make?  I mean, I've worked very hard for many years to portray myself in a certain way.  I work very hard to maintain that portrayal.  So hard, that it's near impossible to deviate from this script that I have for myself.  If I change anything about it I completely fall apart.  And I don't want to fall apart, so why would I risk it?

Well, not for some stupid Dx. that's for damn sure.  The doctor can think I'm normal all day, it makes me feel less crazy.  Plus, I know the day will come when it's a little unsettling that I'm talking about such traumatic abusive situations from my past and laughing while I do.  Because not laughing, means crying.  And I don't cry in public.  Ever.

But what about outside the doctor's office?  I mean, who else would notice?  Well, from what I can tell, no one.  But is that the problem?  Apparently, to some extent, yes.  Since I hide myself so well, even from those closest to me (except my husband), it leaves them with no idea of HOW crazy I am.  All they know is that I'm crazy enough to need hospitalization pretty frequently, but they have no idea why.  Which I always thought was a good thing.  It's personal and I'd like to keep it that way.

No one wants to hear about the voice that's yelling at me to move the chair because it's not in the right spot.  It should be over 3.5 inches!!!  No one else needs to hear that.  So when I very casually go over and use the chair to help me stretch my legs, and it just happens to end up to the left about 3.5 inches, no big.  No one needs to hear about the grey creature things that crawl all over me and dig in  my neck are stealing bits of my brain so that I can't remember anything.  I know they're not real, why would I say something?  I get very overwhelmed very easily.  So I avoid a lot of situations that seem completely harmless to most people.  Like using the ATM, talking on the phone, any type of drive through, etc.  They cause me immense amounts of stress and anxiety.

But by avoiding so many things, I also have a hard time actually having a life outside my own head.  I hide away for fear of so many things that, on a good day, I know are completely harmless and often times not even real.  For what?  So I can make people worry MORE than they otherwise would if they just knew that I'm overwhelmed and that's why I'm hiding in the bathroom?

Why am I so afraid to let anyone see me as anything but completely put together?  And to be more specific, why am I so afraid to let family see me as anything but completely put together?  Because I'm pretty sure my friends, and even people I'm not that close with have seen me break down at least once or twice.  But family?  I feel like I have to be so strong all the time.  It's already obvious that I'm physically broken, why do I have to show you how mentally broken I am on top of it? 

The simple answer is, of course, I don't.  I can continue doing exactly what I'm doing and nothing will change.  And I likely will for the large majority of my family.  But maybe it's time that I try to open up a little.  Time that I stop running away and hiding when I feel like I might not be able to keep it all together.   Maybe it's time that I actually ask for help when just talking for a moment would make things better.  Maybe I'll just say something when there's something that could easily be changed to make me not scared or anxious.  Maybe I'll try to open up for a change instead of frantically searching for pad locks.  Maybe, if you're special enough, I'll let you see how crazy I'm not.

Sunday, July 14, 2013


So, I was really hoping to be consistently under 200 lbs by my birthday.  That gave me a month to lose 5 lbs.  Super simple goal.  I set a really easy one to start because I knew things would be rough at first and I didn't want a bit of weight gain to cause me to get upset if I couldn't reach it.

Well, I have 3 days until my birthday and I'm just going to have to accept that it's not going to happen.  There have been a couple days that I dropped under to 198/199, but for the most part I've been holding pretty steady at right around 201 lbs.

Other than being slightly frustrated that I couldn't get there, I'm not feeling like I failed.  After all, I never really had a fighting chance with all my injuries.  So, I guess, just holding steady and not gaining even though I've been exercising drastically less than I'm used to is something to be proud of.

Maybe.  I don't know.  I've also not been logging what I'm eating since I've not been able to exercise.  So I've probably not been eating nearly enough.  Just thinking about what I ate today, if I've been eating like this every day for a week, that would explain the lack of weight gain.  I need to pay more attention.  I stopped drinking diet drinks of any kind, so that helps a little with the calories.  But let's be honest, those are shit for calories and I probably shouldn't be relying on drinking juice or lemonade to cover half my daily calories.

But I'm starting to be able to walk a little easier.  I walked around the apartment for like 5-10 minutes without too much pain today.  My arms are still useless, though.  It would have been much more convenient if I had broken a rib on the same side as the rotator cuff injury.  But no.  I had to spread out all the damage as much as possible.

So, I guess I should probably wait until I'm at least mostly healed before trying to make any legit weight loss plans.  It could take me a few months before my shoulder is back in working order, and I like weights and riding my bike.  Both will be nearly impossible until it's fully healed.

Realistically, I should probably put all weight loss dreams on hold until I'm fully healed.  Otherwise, I'm pretty likely to just make things worse.  If I happen to fall below 200 lbs, I'll be happy, but I guess I won't be doing anything to try and make that happen.  If anything, I'll probably be more likely to gain over the next month or two.  I need to start paying attention to my calorie intake and make sure it's high enough.  So eating more will likely make me gain weight.  But hopefully not. 

Friday, July 12, 2013

Are you content?

For a long time I was angry/frustrated/sad/whatever, because I felt I could never be happy.  I always felt like I was never going to be that 'normal' girl with a normal life doing normal life things.  For years this made my already depressed/anxious/paranoid/etc. personality that much worse.  It made living life, that much harder.

Always trying to strive for something that I KNEW would never be possible.  But why do we do it?  Why is it so hard to just be content?

When I remind myself that I should be striving, not for that perfectly happy and normal life, but to simply be content with the life I have at this moment, it makes living it a lot easier.

Yes, I want a job.  I want to love my job like I did before.  I want to drive on long road trips.  I want to go running!  I want to be happy more often than not.  I want to enter an arm wrestling competition!  I've always thought that would be so awesome to have a trophy for arm wrestling.  I want to sleep normal hours.  I want to not be in pain all the time.  I want to bend over to pick up that thing I just dropped and not worry about what I'm going to hit my head on when I stand up and pass out.  I want to walk up a flight of stairs by myself without crying at the end because my arthritis is angry.

But you know what?  Those things aren't going to happen.  You know what else, that whole happy thing, I think if you asked all the 'normal' people you can find they'll wish the same thing.  I feel like mania has killed my sense of what a baseline emotional state actually is.  There are days that when I look at them, and really think about it, were good days.  They were days that I really was happy, not just content.  But because emotions can't stay that high for extended periods of time outside mania, I often times don't realize that things were good.  That I really do have good days.

I spend so much of my time being upset that I'm hallucinating and being paranoid and anxious and scared, that I forget to equal that out with the awesome game I just played with my husband or the funny article I just read or that great conversation I just had with a friend.

But back to being content, are you?  I mean, your life is what it is.  Maybe it sucks, maybe it doesn't.  But even if your life sucks, you can still be content.  I think.  I mean, I feel like my life sucks.  I hate my life.  I absolutely HATE...well, certain small things about my life.  But 90% of them are medical, and the other 10% are a direct result of that 90%.

But I love my husband.  I enjoy playing games with friends on a regular basis.  I enjoy being able to read and learn as much as I want, which I couldn't do if I had a job.  Although, I still wish I could go back to school and finish my degree, right now I'm okay just learning whatever I feel like reading for the day.  I enjoy being able to drive sometimes.  Even if I can't do it very often, I can do it.  I love having friends that understand me and all my issues and don't give a shit.

Don't get me wrong, I have TERRIBLE days.  In fact, even really looking at my life in the best light, it's definitely been more bad than good.  A lot more.  But right now, in this moment, I feel content.  I feel like I'm trying my best to do everything in my power to make my life the best I can make it.  And what is that, if not content?

I want a different life.  I want a better life.  I want to be a better wife, I don't want to need to be taken care of.  I want to be able to take care of myself.  I want to be able to want to be taken care of without feeling guilty because I always need to be taken care of.  But that's not going to happen.  Not right now, at least.

All any of us can do is try.  It's hard, and painful, and overwhelming.  It's a lot of ups and downs.  And when you start to feel like it's more downs than ups, maybe that just means it's time to change something.  Even if that something is just the color of your sheets.  Taking control of anything and doing even something seemingly insignificant to improve how you feel in that moment can make a world of difference.

Sit back and stop thinking about all the bad things you've been dealing with.  Dedicate the next 5 minutes to nothing but the good things.  Think about them.  Remember them.  Write them down somewhere if it helps.  But don't let yourself get so stuck on the shitty things in your day to day that you can't even imagine being content.

Because the closest you'll ever get to happy, is to learn to be content.  No one is happy.  It's a fairy tale. 

Thursday, July 11, 2013

New wheelchair

Finally, I got up enough courage to ask for a new wheelchair.  Though, it did take my husband sitting next to me at the doctor violently waving a neon orange post-it at me (that was supposed to be a reminder to ask) to get me to bring it up.  I sat there for a good 30 seconds trying to ignore him and come up with a reason for why he was doing it, but couldn't, so I asked.

But whatever, embarrassment aside, it's done.  It's in the works.  I'm finally going to have a chair again!  I've been so miserable not being able to use my old one since I gained weight last year.  Though, now I'm just really nervous about what kind of chair I'll get.  I really liked my old one.  It was comfortable, light, and fit everywhere.  But now that I have Medicaid and not real insurance, I don't know what I'll be able to get.

The lady at Home Health Depot did help a bit by telling me that if my doctor were to add some of my other Dx's to the script for the chair that I could get a much better one.  So I called my doctor and he fixed it.  So hopefully I'll get one that I can actually use with some ease.  She also told me that the way Medicaid does things is they have it as a rental for the first 13 months, so if something changes, I can go in and possibly change chairs.  So that made me feel better about it.

Although, honestly, if it's not a great chair, I'll probably just work that much harder to lose another 50 lbs so I can just use my old chair.

But I don't know.  Just another thing to let my  mind obsess about, really.  Like I needed more.

I'm broken.

I always feel like because I have mental health issues, that any physical symptoms I have are most likely just me being paranoid or over exaggerating or something to that sort.  So much so, that I tend to feel like I'm not really as 'disabled' as I sometimes think I am.

There are numerous tangible medical tests to confirm that, yes, I am indeed as broken physically (if not more so) than I am mentally.  And yet, because I have those mental illnesses, I'm so scared that I'm just a hypochondriac (or that others will think I am) that I tend to take things too far in the opposite direction.

Nothing is ever wrong with me.  Ever.  Except when it's undeniable.  Like now.

I told you guys about how I fell off the chair being all clumsy like and ended up with a bruised femoral head a week or so ago.  Well, I fell again.  This time while riding my bike.  Luckily, my husband always makes me wear a helmet.  So no worries there.  But I did end up with...
  • sprained ankle
  • lumbar back sprain
  • hip (the other one) strain
  • rotator cuff injury (time will tell if imaging needs to be done)
  • broken rib
  • knee subluxation that caused sprain/strain
  • too many bruises/cuts/bug bites to count
We were on a bike trail and I fell off the edge and landed in rocks/twigs/etc.  Unfortunately, I also had a seizure, so I don't remember what happened or why I fell.  

Anyways, this brought me to the need to definitely get a new wheelchair.  Using a walker with an arm in a sling proves pointless, and my old chair is too small since I gained so much weight.  I found a place in town to get the chair.  I brought in the script, and they said that since my doctor only wrote the new (temporary) Dx's on the script, Medicaid would just give me a really crappy, heavy chair.  And since I needed a permanent one, I should probably have him fix it.

Which really got me feeling like I didn't need a new one.  I must be over-exaggerating, right?  I mean, I walked in here just fine.  Why do I need a wheelchair?

But the more I think about it, the more I hate that just because I have crazy bits I feel like I don't deserve to take care of the physical parts of me because it's "too much" to be wrong with one person.  It can't actually be happening.  But it is.  And I need to take care of me, even if I only need taken care of 50% of the time.

And I know I'm not the only one out there with a mental health issue that ignores physical problems just because it all seems to be too much and if it were real it would mean I was really THAT broken.

Well, guess what?  I'm fucking broken.  I'm a big ball of nothing but pieces.  There are days I cry for an hour before getting out of bed because it hurts that bad to move enough to get out of bed.  And there are days I cry for an hour before I get out of bed because it all seems so overwhelming that I'm afraid to get out of bed.  And sometimes, I just don't get out of bed at all because it's all too much to handle and I just can't do it.

I have no idea what the point of this post was.  I'm sure I had one when I started, but now I'm just frustrated about how I feel like I have to choose to be physically or mentally ill.  When I go anywhere and questions of health come up, I don't really feel the stigma of 'oh, I have psych issues' or 'oh, I have physical issues.'  But when I have to answer questions and my answers wrap around and fill up the back of the page because I have both, I definitely feel the stigma.  Even people making (seemingly) joking comments about how many boxes I checked, or how many medications I'm on (I'm hardly taking anything anymore!), it's all bullshit.  If I could take a multi-vitamin a day and call it good enough, believe me, I would do so in a heartbeat.  But not all of us are that lucky.  So fuck off and have a little compassion.

You'd think health care professionals would understand, but they're the worst of the bunch.  Psych doctors always look at me like I'm crazy when I tell them I have pain issues or anything else.  They ask for consent to talk to my other doctors for "proof" that I'm actually fucking broken.  I was in a psych ward once and for 3 weeks I was falling down every 20 minutes.  Nurses, doctors, techs, all of them just assumed I was faking it and kept lecturing me or even ignoring me.  Finally, a cardiologist just happened to be down there dropping something off and saw me.  He came up to me to help me and as I came to a nurse told him I was just faking it.  I felt so hopeless for that 2 seconds before Dr. Clarence B. Amayun (I will never forget his name) stood up for me and told her very harshly that I was obviously not faking it because you can't fake color loss in your face due to a blood pressure drop.  That was the first time since the eye rolls of me faking it started that I felt even a little hope.

But that story aside, I tend to not even mention my psych issues to any specialists until it's necessary, like for medications, but even then, they're not nearly as suspicious of me making shit up as psych doctors are.  Psychiatrists should understand the stigma so many of us have to deal with on a daily basis.  I get people make shit up.  Fine.  I understand that you need to be able to get to the truth.  Fine.  But there are good and bad ways to go about this.  Don't make people feel worse for being sick.

Ugh.  But enough about that.  I'm just going to get angry and not be able to sleep at all, and I'd really like to be able to sleep at least a little bit since last night I hurt so bad I couldn't even climb in to bed.  I ended up in the living room all night trying my best to get comfortable when I was in so much pain from all my falls on top of normal pain that it just wasn't even worth it.

I hope tonight I have better luck.  Although, it's already after 3a and I've tried twice now to sleep with no success.  So hopefully this time will be better.  Maybe I'll make myself a cup of peppermint tea and try reading.  I'm reading Quiet Your Mind, and so far I'm not so sure about it.  I mean, it has a lot of good points, but at the same time, it seems very condescending.  I'll give it a bit more, but I think I'm going to give up on it.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Finding a doctor

I've had the same family doctor my entire adult life.  He's amazing.  The best doctor I've ever seen, and I've seen a LOT.  When I lost my job, I lost my insurance.  I kept seeing him and just paying out of pocket for a while, but that gets pretty expensive. 

So now I get to start the search for a new family doctor.  But the problem is, I have so many freaking weird/rare health issues that finding a new doctor is like teaching a kid to read.  My old doctor would do tons of research on my behalf to make sure he knew everything about all my weird disorders.  Even my psych issues he knew a ton about.  He was amazing, and I know I'm not going to find that in anyone else.

My anxiety just makes me want to say 'fuck it all, I quit.'  And I have, for a few weeks now.  But it's time to suck it up and just start looking.  I'm getting all my medical records from him (which could take a while since before they started logging everything digitally I had already filled 3 file folders), so I'm probably going to go through those pretty obsessively to make sure I even remember half the crap that I should be telling a new doctor.  Once I find a good one, I'll have my records faxed over.  But no reason to be faxing my records to 10 different doctors while I decide who I do and don't like.

Any suggestions on what criteria to use to find a good family doctor?

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Game Day

The first Saturday of every month, our town has a board game day at one of the libraries.  A local bakery donates pastries, cookies, and coffee.  It's really an awesome event.  Unfortunately, month after month something had come up last minute that kept me from going.

But not today!  Today I got to go.  I had a lot of fun.  I meant to pick up some other stuff at the library while I was there, but I forgot.  But back to the games.  We played a lot of random games.  Because it was raining so much today, not too many people showed up.  Only about 15-20.  But it was still a lot of fun.  I played mostly kids games.  I played King of Tokyo for the first time.  I had never even heard of it before.  But it's actually pretty fun for a quick 15-30 minute game. 

I also played Qwirkle with one of the kids that seemed sad he didn't have anyone to play with.  We kind of fudged on some of the rules because he had a hard time understanding some of them, but it was fun nonetheless.  I had looked at it before and was curious about it, and I think it's definitely worth a purchase.

Another new game I played was The Amazing Labyrinth.  It was okay, but I think it could have been a lot more fun had I been playing with people that were more strategic about winning and not just trying not to make kids cry.  haha.  It's a game where you can very easily screw up other players plans, but none of that happened because we were playing with a little kid and his grandmother.  I'd like to play it again sometime with more competitive people.

Overall, I had a pretty fun day.  Plus, my husband colored my hair for me!  Granted, he picked black and I have been going red for close to 10 years now, but it looks pretty good.  And he really likes it, so that more than makes up for my uncertainty.

I was slightly screwed up that it was Saturday, as my sense of time is way out of whack because of having so many missing days.  So the list of things I had planned to get done today didn't get done and will have to wait until Monday.  But that's okay.  I can't do anything about it, so I'm not going to stress about it.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Am I really who you say I am?

This morning I woke up on a bathroom floor in nothing but my underwear and a camisole.  I was confused.  My head was throbbing.  I didn't know where I was.  I didn't know who I was.  Nothing was familiar.

A naked man stepped out of the shower and asked if I was okay.  THERE WAS A STRANGE, WET, NAKED MAN STANDING OVER ME! No, I was not okay, I was terrified.  I sat up and tried to get a hold on my surroundings.  Maybe I had fallen and was just confused.  Once I looked around, things should look familiar and it'll come back to me.  Right?  I looked.  I looked at everything.  But it all came up blank.  I didn't recognize anything about where I was or the man that was staring at me.

This man told me he was my husband.  That we had been married for four years!  How could I not know my own husband?  I had no sense of my age.  I didn't remember grade school.  I didn't remember my life.  I didn't even remember my name or recognize my face in the mirror.  There are no words to describe the confusion, the loss of all sense of control, the extreme vulnerability, the lack of any sense of truth or reality.  I was barely able to speak.

Was I drugged?  Was I raped?  Was this man holding me captive?  Is he really my husband?  Was he just taking advantage of me?  Who am I?  Why is this happening to me?  I had so many questions, but I didn't even feel safe asking them.

He seemed nice enough.  After I was coherent enough to sit up and respond, he covered himself.  He was modest and respectful.  He kept a distance and didn't try to touch me in any way.  That helped calm the worst of my fears.

He tried to explain to me that I have seizures brought on by stress and had likely fallen from where I was sitting in the bathroom to the floor and hit my head.  He was calm and explained that this has happened before, that my memory would come back bit by bit as the day went on and that by tomorrow I would likely remember everything.  Everything, that is, except today. 

I sat on the floor in the bathroom as he finished his shower trying to remember anything, but nothing came.  Then we got dressed and went to the living room and talked for a bit.  I was hoping seeing the rest of the place would jog my memory in some way, but no.  I looked around.  I looked through drawers.  I looked in closets.  I looked at anything and everything I could get my hands on to give me some sort of clue as to who I was.  I saw photos of me that I didn't recognize.  Like I had a twin and someone was trying to convince me her life was mine.  I was overwhelmed.

Apparently I was planning on coloring my hair today, so I hadn't washed it recently.  But since that wasn't happening, I took a shower.  I felt weird looking through someone elses clothes to find something to wear.  Luckily, it was all my size, though much more color than I would have thought of myself choosing to wear.

After getting ready for the day, I walked around a bit and picked up.  The place was a mess!  He said it was because they were working on his computer the night before, but I feel that was only part of it.  Apparently I'm a horrible housekeeper, there was clutter everywhere!

I started getting hungry, so I offered to make lunch.  He explained to me that I have to eat gluten free because of some medical thing.  So after he explained to me what that meant, I was a little disappointed.  There was a box of Cheese-It's that looked pretty tasty.  But no big.  There were plenty of choices for me to make gluten free alternatives.

After lunch I had found a very worn looking bracelet on (what was apparently) my computer desk that read "Elann DeVoss / Seizure Disorder / emergency phone number" so that helped take away the last little bits of doubt I had about the situation.

I was thoroughly bored with this small apartment and wanted to explore.  After all, I had no idea where I was and everything was an adventure!

Unfortunately, after driving around for about 20 minutes or so, the most entertaining thing we could find was a less than mediocre mall.  He did try to warn me, but I thought for sure he was just so used to it all that it all just seemed that way.  But no.  He was right.  This town is even more boring than the apartment I felt stuck in.

We came back home, if you can call it that.  It still didn't look familiar.  It barely looked like the place we had left.  He randomly asked me questions about my life to see how much I was remembering.  He asked me who my brothers and sisters were, where I grew up, things like that.  I had a really hard time answering at first.  Brothers and sisters?  I have a family?  It had never even really crossed my  mind that I had a family!  I was so stuck on trying to remember MY name and MY life that I didn't even think about anyone else I might know.  After about half a day, I did remember the names of most of my sisters and brothers.  Though I apparently have a younger brother and a younger sister that I don't recall.  I remembered the address to the house I grew up in, though I still couldn't remember the name of the town I live in currently.  It was all so disjointed.  It still is. 

I get bored easily.  After being back at the apartment for about an hour or so, I got antsy and asked about friends or playing games or something.  So he grabbed a few boxes and told me to put my shoes on.  We went to a game store that we apparently frequent.  We played a game of Magic, which I somehow knew how to play.  As we were playing, I started remembering playing when I was a kid.  I even remembered the names of a few of the guys I used to play with.  Oh, and in case you were wondering, I totally won today.   But we couldn't stay long, with it being a holiday and the store not being very busy, the owner decided to close early.  So back home, again.

By now I was starting to remember a lot of instinctive-type things.  Things I wasn't necessarily aware I was remembering, but more like things that are just so natural to my every day life that he figured would come back easily when put in the right situation.  So he thought we could try playing a computer game I normally like.  He showed me League of Legends.  We played through a few games and I got the hang of it pretty quickly, like he thought.  I had to ask a few questions, but I feel like as I played it I remembered how to play it without having to really ask that many questions.

My eyes started hurting from staring at the screen for so long, mostly because I was forgetting to blink because I was so in to it.  So I stepped away and started messing with some other stuff.  I cleaned off the table that was covered in clean clothes that needed put away.  I washed a couple dishes that needed washed.  I found a dress shirt with a stain on the elbow that was apparently going to be made into a short sleeve shirt, so I worked on that until it was time for him to leave for work.  He drives a bus for the city and tonight he's having to drive a shuttle to and from the fireworks.

I'm writing this around 8pm, and I believe I had the seizure sometime around 10am.  I still don't feel connected to this body, to this life.  My husband assures me I have the same basic personality, and I do feel somehow connected to him.  Drawn to him.  Like I feel like I should know him and trust him.  It came out naturally when he left for work a little bit ago for me to tell him I love him and give him a kiss.  I didn't even realize what I was doing.  But after, I felt a little awkward.  Like I had just said "I love you" and kissed this man that I had only met hours earlier.  There was something very creepy about it that I can't really put my finger on.

I tried to get him to have someone come over to be with me.  I feel strange being alone right now.  Scared.  What if something were to happen?  I don't know that I would know what to do.  He showed me how to use my phone and who to call in case of an emergency, but being alone right now makes me very nervous.  I'm easily startled, and it's the 4th of July.  Fireworks are going off constantly.  I'm hearing strange sounds that I can't identify.  I'm seeing people from the corner of my eye, but when I look no one is there.  I'm hearing people talking that, at first, I thought might be coming from the other computer, but now I'm pretty sure they're just in my head.

What's worse yet, is if this is all caused by stress induced seizures, isn't leaving me home alone to freak out about all this a little dangerous?  What if I have another seizure and no one is here to explain this all to me?   What if I'm not sitting right here, able to read this, and I just wander off?  Where will I end up?  I need to not think about that.  I need to not cause myself any stress.  I need to relax.  Stress is what causes this to happen, so avoiding stress is what I need to do.

Maybe I will try to draw something.  Or build a card house.  My husband showed me Netflix before he left, maybe I'll find a good movie to watch.  I'm sure there are plenty of things I can find around here to entertain myself for the next couple hours, so that's what I'll do.  But I still have so many questions about my life.  He said I have hallucinations, and that several of the things that I experienced today were not really happening, but he never told me why.  What causes me to have hallucinations?  Why does having a seizure make me forget everything about me?  What do I do for a living?  How often does this happen?  There was a note next to my desk that said I had a seizure yesterday and to not leave the apartment.  He said it was from the other day, but does this happen a lot?  If I don't really remember days like today when I have seizures, and I have seizures like this even kind of regularly, how much of my life do I not remember?  The more I think about it the more it worries me.  Never knowing if I'm going to know who I am from day to day, how do I make plans?  Am I constantly having to cancel on people?  Would I even know to cancel?  Do my friends just think I'm really flaky and blow them off?  What about doctors?  They tend to charge for no-shows, how does that work?

***I wrote this while in a dissociative state as a letter to myself.  Myself when I know who I am, that is.  But I decided to share it with all of you.  Maybe you experience something similar and can relate.  Maybe not.  But getting my story out there and letting people know that it happens and it scares me and I'm surviving seems important right now.  So there you have it. 

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Another seizure

Apparently yesterday I had another seizure.  This time, I was at the laundry room at our apartment complex (2 parking lots from our apartment).  It's assumed, though no one saw, that that is where I had my seizure (since I had apparently started the dryer before losing it).  When I came to, I started walking.  Having no idea who or where I was, I walked in any random direction.  Though, luckily (I guess) with a bum hip and heart issues, I didn't get too far.  Only about a mile away before passing out (heart issues=low blood pressure) on the side walk of a bridge.  Someone called 911 and there I was again, in that place I'm so ashamed of.

At least I had my phone and wallet with me this time.  They were able to figure out who I was due to my my bracelet and my husband called while I was with the EMTs. He wasn't far away, so he came and met me.  He saved me from having to go to the hospital and from being admitted yet again.

On the bright side, I made it through the weekend without ending up in the psych ward as I was so terrified of doing.  My husband has left for work for the day, and won't be back until 2:30p or so.  At which point we have a list of things that need to be done.  I'm not calling my doctors until then because he's afraid the stress might be enough to push me over the edge again.

I don't know what to do.  I feel trapped in my own life.  Do I go out and do things that I know need to be done?  Grocery shopping, paying bills, making doctor appointments, dealing with health insurance, changing coverage on my car insurance?  What can I do?  What is safe?  What if the things I feel are safe in this moment, are no longer safe 10 minutes from now?  What then? 

Terror.  Constant terror.  I can't just decide, oh this is too much, I should go home.  That never works.  It's too late by then.  It's like being in a crowded room and realizing there's not enough air for everyone.  There's no way out.  It's over.

I have struggled with agoraphobia to some extent most of my adult life.  Days like these, when I feel like going outside will certainly lead to my hospitalization, only make that fear more real and substantiated.

I feel like I have no reason to go on.  But that's not true.  I'm going through all this so that I may eventually have a child.  And when I get there, this will all be worth it.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Friday, not anymore

So, to preface this post, I woke up Friday and began writing a post.  I can't tell you where it was going, or much of what happened after.  But here's the draft I found today when I turned on my computer...

It's Friday, and I actually managed to fall asleep last night.  Though, it was a slightly excessively drug-induced sleep, it was finally sleep nonetheless.  I had several panic attacks last night and my paranoid thoughts were running wild.  I was hearing people in the living room.  I heard them talking softly outside my bedroom window.  I was terrified.  I knew I needed to fall asleep or things would not end well.  So I found the diphenhydramine and took 400mg.  A bit excessive, maybe.  But I knew it wasn't enough to kill me and I was desperate. Within an hour or so, I was asleep.
Waking up this morning, I was still having overwhelming thoughts.  The hallucinations had calmed a bit, they were manageable again. However, it was now more obvious than ever that I definitely have no choice but to go back to seeing a psychiatrist.  I hate to think what could have happened had I not been able to fall asleep and get some reprieve from the crazy.  I feel certain I would have completely lost it.
My husband is still asleep, I hate to wake him up so early.  I will definitely have to talk to him about what happened and how badly I need to get some anxiety medicine.  I don't want to go back to the hospital.  I hate it there.  But if today keeps going like it is, and ends up like a repeat of last night, I have no doubt that's where I'll end up.  Or worse.  I should go talk to him. 

From what my husband told me, he woke up to me laying next to him (dressed for the day), around 8a, having a seizure.  I don't know how long I had been there, I don't know how I got there.  I didn't know who I was or where I was or who this man was. 

I have psychogenic seizures brought on by stress.  In appearance, they look like grand mal seizures.  The only difference is with psychogenic seizures there's no electrical malfunction in the brain.  It's a conversion disorder.  However, that alone does not explain my lack of memory.  The large majority of the time, if I have a seizure, I will also have accompanying (typical for me is 1-2 day) dissociative amnesia. 

I've been dealing with this for years, but only recently got diagnosed a year or so ago so I had something to call it.  Some reason to tell hospital staff that I WASN'T just making it up.  I had test results and other doctors to finally back me up. 

But that's beside the point.  I lose a lot of my life because of this.  I lost my job, the best job I have ever had, because of this.  They tried to take away my drivers license, and it kept me from driving for about a year.  I was able to keep my license because driving is my stress relief.  Driving aimlessly will calm me down faster than any medication.  That is, assuming I'm able to get in a car and go before I NEED the medication.  And I'm aware of my limitations.  I take the bus pretty much everywhere.  I'm very cautious and constantly on guard for any kind of stress I may be feeling.  I almost never drive, but I like having the option in case of emergency or something.  I'm not reckless. 

Back to the original point of this post, I definitely have to go back to the doctor.  I'm seriously hoping nothing gets too bad before Monday, because that will mean hospital visit for sure.  So I just need to make it the next 48 hours.  I also discovered, Thursday, that my previous psychiatrist (whom I wasn't a huge fan of, but he really is a good doctor) is now the inpatient doctor at the local psych ward.  I'm so happy about this.  The previous doctor was such a jerk.  And you could tell he hated his job.  But now it will take even longer to get an appointment with someone.  I'll likely have to go through intake again since it's been a few months since I've been seen.  But those are worries for another day.  Today, I get to pick up the pieces of my life and try to put them back in a box.

Though, I will say one good thing about days when I have seizures/amnesia, my house is always spotless when I get back!  Apparently not really me is a neat freak and I am completely okay with that.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Seeking Professional Help

The bane of my existence is admitting that anything is wrong with me.  Ever.  I've been known to walk around with blood running down my face (from falling and hitting my head), in excruciating pain, and refuse to recognize something has happened because "No.  I'm fine." 

The real problem comes in when I start doing this, not only with physical symptoms, but with mental symptoms.  It just seems like finding that line is so difficult.  One day you cross it when you see a shirt laying on the living room floor and it's so overwhelming you can't breath.  The next day it's not even in sight when you find out your best friend is moving across the country.  And what is that line, anyways?  Is it when you start having increased symptoms?  Is it when you get overwhelmed?  Is it when your stress levels are too high?  How can you pinpoint something that is so subjective?

My husband agreed to support me with my decision to stop taking all my medication earlier this year with the understanding that if I feel I'm approaching that elusive 'line' I tell him.  But I'm beginning to wonder if I'm capable of doing so.  When we talked about it, I really thought I was.  I thought I had a good handle on when things were starting to be too much.  After all, I was barely taking anything anymore.

Luckily, things have gone relatively well so far.  But with everything going on right now, I'm having a hard time evaluating my current situation.  I don't want to go back to the hospital.  I don't want to be on dozens of medications.  I don't want to have my name listed for 3p on Wednesdays indefinitely in any doctors planner.

But is that what I need?  And if I really needed it, how could I have made it so long without it?  Now granted, it's pretty likely I've only been able to survive because I really limit my social interactions.  Aside from Google+, the only time I talk to anyone is a few hours on Fridays.  But even that's overwhelming by the end of the night. 

I don't think I would have as much of a problem going to a psychiatrist if I could find one that wasn't an asshole.  I've been to several in town and I've only found one that I liked.  She was AMAZING.  Unfortunately, after only seeing her for a few months, she had to take permanent medical leave.  So I got shifted around a few times because I couldn't find a good fit with any of the other doctors, and eventually just stopped going.

Perhaps it's time to start the search again...

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Food Log

Since using My Fitness Pal to log my food (vs. on paper as I had been) it's come to my attention that I eat far less than I thought I did.  Before using MFP, I would keep track of everything, but I would always round up/down on calories.  So if I had something that was 75 calories, I would call it 100.  Same with things that were close to multiple's of 50.  If something was 170 calories, I would call it 150.  I always figured things evened out with the rounding and it didn't make that much difference.  But holy shit, it really does.

When I started using MFP, I thought it was weird that I only ate like 600 calories that day.  I didn't think too much of it and thought it was just an off day because of everything that has been going on.  The next day my total was, again, around 600.  What the fuck?  I know my eating habits hadn't changed THAT much.  So I went back to some older logs I had where I had calculated them to be between 1200-1500.  I added in a few days, just to make sure it was consistent, and they all added up to be around 700-1,000.

So  now I really need to pay attention to what I'm eating.  Since becoming aware of this, I've been really trying to eat more, but I'm just not hungry enough it seems.  I mean, I'm seriously trying to get enough calories without just eating nutritionally void junk, but I'm having a really hard time.  I started drinking milk twice a day, which I really don't like, but it's an easy 200 calories. 

I'm really hoping that since I've been eating so little, once I start eating a sufficient amount of food my body will stop being completely inept and I'll finally be able to start losing weight a little easier.  I've also decided to start eating gluten free again.  I'll explain why in another post.  But hopefully doing that will also help me get more of the nutrients that I need and will help with all these chronic vitamin deficiencies I've been dealing with.

I see my dietitian again tomorrow, so I'm hoping to get some more advice from her.  I know I need to eat more veggies.  I haven't been eating many veggies the last week or so.  That's my goal for this next week, more fruits and veggies.  And salt.  I hate salt, but I'm definitely not getting enough.  I've been passing out more and I know it's because I'm not getting enough salt.  Maybe I'll add a serving of nuts or something to my snacks. 

Monday, June 24, 2013

Pregnancy in Pill Form

Today has been rough.  Ignoring the seriously intense physical pain I'm in currently because of my hip/leg from falling yesterday, it's been rough mentally.  Since being off my meds I've had my ups and downs, but for some reason while I was pregnant a lot of my hallucinations weren't really there.  My moods were much more stable.  My anxiety, while I still had a few panic attacks, was no where near as frequent.  I didn't even have as many seizures as I used to.  But now, I feel it all flooding back.  It must have been the hormonal changes keeping my insanity at bay, and since my body is getting back to normal my crazy bits are coming back, too.

I don't want to have to go back on any meds. At least not psych meds.  I'll probably go back on my heart meds, because seriously, falling hurts!  But I like feeling like I can handle my life without chemical intervention.  I don't like NEEDING to take a pill to be safe.

Not much else to say right now, but I'll likely be writing more on the subject in the future.  I'd really like to know what it is about pregnancy that makes my schizophrenia symptoms more manageable than any medication I've ever taken.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Weight Loss

With all my ups and downs in the weight department lately, I figured it was time for another down.  Nothing too extreme like before, but I'd like to stay under 150lbs if at all possible.

I noticed last year that once I hit about 145-150 my pain increases considerably.  So I know it's not all girly to openly talk about ones weight, but fuck that.  I've never been a 'proper' lady and I'm not about to pretend now.

As an adult I've weighed anywhere from 89lbs to 235lbs.  Obviously neither are healthy.  Not to try and make excuses, but I was holding steady at around 130-150 for a little over a year when things started going awry.

Summer of 2012 I had a lot of issues and bad reactions to some meds I was taking.  I was in and out of the hospital for a few months.  Med change after med change left me feeling everything possible, but mostly just crazy.  Finally, at the end of August, we found one that actually worked.  It was by no means a long-term solution, but I was hoping it would be enough to get me through an obviously unstable point in time.  So I was put on Saphris to try and control the hallucinations.  It was amazing.  It worked great...

At first, anyways.  After about a month I was up to the max dosage, but it was helping more than anything else had, so I kept taking it.  I noticed the scales tipping up, but the med was working and it's hard to know when to say enough is enough and that gaining that much weight isn't worth it.

Well, when I went to the doctor in January and I saw the numbers on the scale go up past 200, I started to wonder.  But then it kept going, 210, 220, 230, 235!  It finally stopped on 235 and all I could think was "holy fuck, what have I done!"

During this time my eating habits had not really changed.  I have always eaten a strict diet of 1,200-1,500 calories a day and exercised for at least 45 minutes a day 5x/week.  None of this changed, and yet I gained close to 100 lbs! 

So that day I decided that I was done with medication.  All of it.  I even stopped taking my heart meds.  A rough decision at the time, but I'm managing.  Though I did start taking my aspirin again because of the heat.

So I stopped taking all my meds middle of January or so and didn't change anything else for about 45 days.  I needed to see how screwed up things had gotten to determine what I needed to do.  Well, in that 45 days I lost maybe 5 lbs.  But it was something, so I'm definitely not complaining!

Since we were planning to move middle/end of March, I wasn't too gung-ho about starting a new routine only to have to change it again.  So I just kind of rode out the rest of the time.

Chaos ensued, and now I'm here.  Time to start a serious weight loss routine!  I started using My Fitness Pal, and it's helping.  It's made me realize I don't eat nearly as much as I thought I did.  So I definitely need to start eating more to keep from storing everything.

When I weighed in today I was 204 lbs.  Step one of my goal is going to be quite modest, but I'd like to be consistently under 200 lbs by my birthday, July 18.

Depending on how that goes, I'll then set out a plan to figure out what I need to do to get where I want to be.  Of course, I will have the help of one of the best RD's I've ever had the privilege to work with!  So she will make sure I'm staying on track and doing everything in a healthy way without going overboard, as I tend to do.  However, if I can manage to lose exactly 2 lbs every week, I should be able to reach my goal of 150 lbs by the new year!!!
Created by MyFitnessPal - Free Weight Loss Tools

Waste of a day

Since moving in to our new apartment at the end of March, we hadn't really done much to make it 'home.'  Because I got pregnant only a couple weeks after moving in, we didn't see much of a point in hanging things on the walls and making the place really ours since we were going to have to move to a bigger place in a just a few months.

But with everything that happened this week, I decided a good way to get my mind off things and help me move on would be to finally finish unpacking and get things put where they belong!

Next to my computer desk there is/was a coffee table piled with things that hadn't been unpacked yet.  So this morning I decided it was time to get that taken care of.

There were some things that I decided we needed a shelf or something for, so I convinced my husband to go drive around and look for rummage sales.  We found a few, but didn't get much.  We got a good overhead light for our bedroom ($0.50) and I got another yoga ball ($0.50).  So I think we made out alright, even if we didn't get anything we were looking for.

But when we got home I wanted to pump up the new ball to make sure there weren't any holes in it.  So I got a chair and climbed up so I could reach the pump that is kept at the top of our coat closet.  But with me and all my awesome balance issues, I fell off the chair and ended up rolling my ankle, pulling a muscle in my knee, and royally screwing up my hip.

So off to the ER we went.  What a way to spend a Sunday.  It was crap.  I was in so much pain.  I don't know why I even bother going to the ER here anymore, honestly.  Before we even left, I told my husband it's not broken and it's not dislocated.  When I fell, I subluxed the joint and something got pinched or something  and it would heal eventually.  But I was in so much pain I couldn't figure out what else to do.  So we went.  I did get pain medicine via IV, so I was at least able to breathe again. 

The first thing I told her when she walked in the room was that it wasn't broken and it wasn't dislocated.  I explained to her my subluxation issues and how I fell/landed.  Okay, great.  She seemed to actually listen and she stepped out to go do something.  I thought for sure she would order an MRI or something to look at the soft tissue.  But no.  She took a regular x-ray.  Awesome.  Thanks for wasting my time trying.  But guess what was wrong with my hip?  It wasn't broke and it wasn't dislocated.  REALLY!?!??!?  So she told me to follow up with my sports medicine doctor in the next few days and take some shitty muscle relaxers at the lowest possible dose because because I hadn't taken that one in several years even though when I did take it it was useless and didn't help at all. But I'm sure you're right, giving me a smaller dose will definitely work this time.  *eye roll*

What a waste of time!  I hate our hospital.  I hate it so much.  I've never had an even half-way decent experience there.  Every single one has been bad.  I honestly don't know what makes me think that maybe 'this time' will be different.

But as dumb as it is, and as pointless as all of it is, at least the majority of the staff are really nice and helpful.  So it's not an all around terrible experience, just pointless.

So now I'm up all night trying to get things done that I had planned on getting done during the day.  But this time I'm trying really hard not to fall!


So, late April I took a home pregnancy test and it was positive.  We were SO happy.  However, because of my history of failed pregnancies, we were pretty hesitant to share the news or even let ourselves get too excited.
I had an appointment at 8 weeks, and we got to see the little bean on the ultrasound and hear the heartbeat.  We were so happy.  It was finally happening!  We were still a little hesitant, since I had had 3 losses between 8 and 9 weeks, but it was healthy with a nice strong heartbeat!

At 9 1/2 weeks, I had another appointment and got to hear the heartbeat on the doppler.  It was so amazing and such a huge relief that everything was fine.  We had finally made it past that milestone where most of my losses had happened and the heartbeat was so strong!  We finally really started getting excited and began feeling a little more comfortable telling family and a few really close friends.

My next appointment was at just past 11 weeks.  It was just a boring check up, so I wasn't too worried when my husband wasn't able to get off work since I would have another appointment the next week.  I was so excited to hear the heartbeat again!  I went back to the exam room and the nurse couldn't find it.  But I didn't think too much of it, I didn't have much faith in her anyway.  Then she took my blood pressure and it was back down to where it was before I got pregnant.  I started to think of all the what-if's, but I stopped myself.  It could have been a million things.  After all, my heart does weird things.

So the doctor came in and tried to find the heartbeat with the doppler, as well.  Still no luck.  But that's okay, that means I get to see my little baby on the ultrasound!  I was trying so hard to not let myself freak out until I had confirmation of anything.  So we go back only to have the worst news.  Not only was there no heartbeat, but the spinal cord developed in a sac outside the body and there was a very thick layer of fluid under the skin.

The baby had been measuring 5-7 days small, likely because I'm short, and at that appointment he was measuring 10 weeks 2 days.  Add 5-7 days and that puts him right on target for my 11 weeks 1 day mark.  The doctor said he's almost certain the heartbeat and development stopped within the last 1-3 days.  I was devastated. I felt horrible for letting myself get excited after the 9wk appointment like that was really all that significant. 

I had been through natural miscarriages and they're so painful, I did not want to do that again.  So when he offered to squeeze me in for a D&C later that afternoon, I jumped at the chance.  By the time everything was scheduled and explained and whatnot, I left his office around 12:30p on 20/06/13.  I had to be back at the hospital between 1:15p-1:30p that same day for the surgery.

It went really smoothly.  I had no pain or discomfort after. 

The whole situation sucks.  I finally let myself think it was really going to happen only to be wrong.  But my doctor sent the tissue off for genetic testing to make sure it's not something that's just going to keep happening.  Hopefully it's just a fluke.  I'll get the test results back in about 4 weeks.  So finger's crossed.  But at least I found an amazing new doctor. 

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

It's Tuesday.

I went for a walk this morning.  Nothing spectacular there.  It's a nice day out.  Though it's kind of somewhere between cloudy and sunny, just enough to give you a headache if you don't wear sunglasses.

My husband and I are going over to his parents' house when he gets off work.  Not really looking forward to it.  I love his family, don't get me wrong, but we had to live with them for like 6 months and just moved out about a month ago.  So I've had my fill for the time being.

There's a coffee table next to my computer desk that is piled with things that either haven't found a place yet, or that need to be hung on the walls in yet to be decided places.  It's bothering me today because it just looks like a big pile of crap.  Some of it needs to go back to be put in storage, or just donated or something.  But it's so much stuff I just feel like there's nowhere to start.  We're still not even sure where we want to put most of the furniture, so we can't hang anything on the walls until that is decided.  But whatever, another day.

I made a huge pot of lentils last night.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I'm going to have to eat them for every meal so they don't go bad.  But on the up-side, I do love lentils.  And I don't make them smushy, so they taste good on salads.

Well, I should probably be a good wife and finish cleaning the house before my husband gets home. 

Monday, April 15, 2013

I want to RUN

I love running.  Lately, I've been getting really strong urges to go for runs after it gets dark.  It's pretty lame.  But a few times since being back I've managed to head out for a walk at an appropriate time.

Unfortunately, it never lasts very long.  Today, for instance, I got dressed, had a snack, grabbed a water, walked to the trail (only a few hundred feet away from my door), and felt so happy.  Not two minutes later, I got dizzy and just barely caught myself before passing out.  So I sat there for a bit until I felt safe, and got up and went on with it.  But within 30 seconds (or so it felt) of standing up, whatever it is in my lower back that has been making moving my right leg so impossible started making moving my right leg near impossible.

Fucking hell.  Can I not win?  20 minutes, that's all I want.  I'm so sick of trying to ride my bike.  I need to lose weight, but how am I ever going to do that if I can barely leave my house?  It's beautiful outside, and I'm stuck in here doing exercise videos from youtube traditionally reserved for shitty weather and when my brain hates me.

I guess I should at least be happy that I'm able to do the little I am.  Before moving here last month I didn't even really have the option to try and get out.

But still, fuck this.  I want to run.