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Monday, January 29, 2018

It Only Takes An Instant To Change Someone Forever

     Insomnia is a bitch. It slithers in and stays intertwined into your very core like a cancer eating away at your organs. It isn't pretty. It isn't pleasant. If you suffer from insomnia; it consumes you. Coffee becomes your friend. Your lifeline to survive the sunlight hours. Most days even the caffeine doesn't help to "wake" you up for your daily routines. So far, I've found no cure or coping mechanism to handle insomnia.
     I didn't have insomnia as a child. Not really anyways. I would wake up in the midnight hours, but I usually could always go back to slumber land. Though as an adult, I have severe insomnia. So much so, it's hard to function the next morning. Even with my friend; caffeine.
     About a decade ago I was having insomnia. I drove to a local twenty-four hour store just to walk around.  My husband was out of town at the time. When I returned home, my front door was open. My five cats were in and out of the house. This house was in disarray.I panicked. I first tried to take care of what was the most important thing to me at the time. I found all five of my cats and placed them back into the house. I was in shock to say the least. I don't know what I did next because the rest was a blur in my memories. I didn't call the police; I was still in shock.
     When the sun was coming up, I called my mother-in-law. Then I must have called the police. Like I said earlier, it was a blur at this point. The state of shock I was in was still there. My mother-in-law came over to my house. She lived over thirty minutes away at that time. She arrived with one of her relatives. I was in tears. Been crying half the night. My cats were just scared but they were not harmed. The police filed a report. That was the extent of they're involvement. As far as I know.
    I was such in a disrupted mental state that my mother-in-law must have taken me to the psychiatric facility. I stayed there for a little over two weeks. My husband came home at some point. He visited my in the psychiatric hospital and I remember feeling safer just knowing he was there. He is my lifesaver.
     When I returned home, the house was cleaned up. Fresh and new. Like it never happened, but we had many things missing. I came to the conclusion we were robbed. I'm just happy that my cats were not harmed. Things can be replaced. This I know. Though the mental damage was done. Can that be repaired?
     After I returned home from my stay in the psychiatric hospital, I began to experience tremendous panic attacks. I had been prescribed Xanax. That helped some but the panic attacks were severe. I needed to learn coping skills to help deal with the ordeal.
     Out of all the coping skills I've tried, only one really seemed to work. This is what worked for me. When a panic attack came on, I would "try" to breathe deep and slow. In and out. Then when that didn't work well enough, I started counting the breathes. One for in and two for out. Three for in and four for out and so on until I reached the number ten. Then I would start over. During this I would close my eyes.
     For me when I was experiencing panic attacks, the room would spin. My heart would race, tremendously. I would start to hyperventilate. I would shake or tremble all over. My thoughts would race at a colossal speed. The room would spin. I would feel like I was about to have a heart attack. Basically, I would feel like I was dying.
     Many years later, today I have most of my panic attacks under control. I meditate everyday, several times a day. I love the meditation app I found called 'Headspace'. You can find it on the app store. You can start with a ten day free trial I believe. Though after that you would need to purchase a subscription. It is very very useful.
     Using my coping skills of meditation and other skills I have learned, I don't have panic attacks everyday like I used to years ago.
     Ever since my house was broken into, I started having insomnia. Which I contribute that to having severe nightmares basically every night. Several times a night. I did some research and what I believe I was suffering from was called RISP. (Recurring Isolated Sleep Paralysis.) I'll talk about that next time.
     Will I ever be able to sleep again, the whole night? Time will only tell. I just know that I have a positive outlook on my life now. I used to not be that way. I used to be in a deep depression. Now, I'm stable. I'm not depressed and I'm not manic. I am taking my medications for Bi-Polar like prescribed and they seem to be keeping me on track.
     I look forward to sleeping more than a few hours of sleep at night. Though the meditation helps with the sleep as well. I will not give up. I will keep surviving. Not only for me but for my wonderful husband, whom I love with all my heart.

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Where Do I Begin?

     So I have a question. Where do I begin? Where do I begin to tell my story? To talk about what it's like with my disorder. How do I separate the Bi-Polar with my human self? How do I dissect that information from my brain. My brain that is scattered and in a disorder in it's own way. What parts are me?  And, What parts are the Bi-Polar?
     I could start by telling you I had a normal childhood. Though that is not the case. Is not having a "normal" childhood the spark that led to being Bi-Polar or was I born with it? The studies are mostly inconclusive that is would have been caused by genetics or an environmental situation.
     What do I think? I think in my case it could caused by both; genetically and environmentally. I wasn't raised by any means traditionally. At least through my eyes I wasn't. 
     My story began thirty-eight years ago. This is my journey. Through my eyes and interpretation. 

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