All Over Again

Happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I'm 33 today. I don't really feel any different, but then again I never do. Turning 30 sort of felt like a milestone, but it didn't bother me. In my heart of hearts I'm at least 10 years younger than I really am.

Yesterday marked the 20th anniversary of my salvation. OK, that sentence looks weird. Rephrase: I've been a Christian for 20 years. I remember everything about the day I asked Jesus into my heart. Twenty years of faith is a far bigger milestone than turning 30, if you ask me. I'm pretty psyched about it, but you know what? I miss my cousin, Jay. That's what I kept thinking yesterday. For those of you that don't know the back story, Jay and his wife were very instrumental in leading me to Christ. Jay also suffered from bipolar disorder. In September 2009, he died of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, after a 5-year battle. I miss him every day, but I especially missed him yesterday. I wish we could still email back and forth and talk live, faith, and BPD. 

A few weeks ago, someone very close to me told me that the older she gets, the more afraid she becomes, and that someday I would understand her fear. I told myself no way - my faith will always keep me from being crippled with fear the way that she is. Last night in Celebrate Recovery we talked about God's plan and how it's always a good plan, and yet... we don't really know what it is. We don't know if the way we die will be just as impacting as the way we lived, or even more so. While we're making plans for next year, God might know something we don't - that maybe our lives will end 30 seconds from now.

I remember being sort of haunted by that while Jay was sick and for a long time after he died. I could not, would not surrender my life to God because I didn't trust Him with the outcome. I didn't want to give Him something fragile, something He could drop, something that could break...

But while I was figuring out all that crap, Jay was already letting go. So eventually, I decided, if he could do it, I had to give it a shot.

Guys, I give it a new shot every day. Forgive the politically incorrect phrase, but I'm such an Indian giver. I offer myself up, take myself back, and offer myself up again. I'm getting closer and closer to that once-and-for-all. Inches away from believing that in the hands of God, the only breakable thing about me are the walls I build around myself.

Your 20th birthday is as good a time as any to give it up all over again, right?

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In This Together

I like being able to stand next to someone who has bipolar disorder and say "I understand." I hate the disease and I hate that other people have it, but I like that I can empathize. Especially when that someone is another follower of Jesus Christ. Christians don't always know how to relate to someone with a mental illness. If they did, I wouldn't be blogging right now.

It means a lot to me when I find a fellow believer who understands the need for sleep and how hard it can be to fall asleep. It means a lot when they understand that a bad mood isn't personal. It means a lot when they pray for me and with me, instead of telling me my problem isn't real and I just need a spiritual kick in the pants. God bless the Christian who understands that the brain is an organ, and sometimes organs get sick. Those are the people I try to surround myself with.

I was really glad I got to spend part of my day hearing someone else out.

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I love this. Spot on. :-)
Sorry, wouldn't let me imbed.

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I can never tell when I'm manic or depressed until I'm REALLY manic or depressed. Rarely do I know which one I am. At some point, it just occurs to me: I've been isolating myself, I'm angry, I'm paranoid, and people are tip-toeing around me. It's like walking face-first into a plate glass window. I don't know what has happened until I'm bloody.

You know, if you have a baby, or have surgery, or have a disease, you can count on people to check in on you. Church shows up with a meal. It doesn't work that way with a mental illness. People scatter like ants.

What really bothers me about being bipolar is how obvious it seems to be to other people, but not to me. I've had lots of people say they can tell I'm getting sick by reading my Facebook statuses. Today I thought about disabling my Facebook account until I got to feeling better, but decided it was too much of a hassle.

When I 'crash' it feels like I've done something wrong. It's like after 7 months of not smoking, I went out and bought a carton and chain-smoked them all. Or I looked at porn all day, or got drunk, or did drugs. It feels like a total FAILURE. You stand up in front of people and give your testimony about how God has changed your life, and then you find yourself just struggling to be normal and few people understand... and you feel like such a hypocrite.

You wonder if you're really sick or if you're just not as spiritually mature as you thought. I'd rather be sick than a spiritual lightweight.

I want everyone I know to understand that bipolar disorder is not who I am, it's something I have. I'm a child of God, healed of many things. I am totally changed from the inside out. Brain chemicals can't change what the Lord has done in my heart.

The truth is what keeps people like me from being swallowed by sadness, but it's still there. Christians are sad sometimes. Well, we FEEL sad sometimes. I guess there is a big difference.

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For almost 7 months now, I've been having an interesting health issue. I've been dealing with this thing called pulsatile tinnitus. Have you ever hung upside-down and heard the "whoosh-whoosh" of your heartbeat in your ears? That's what it is - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I've also been lightheaded, had headaches, been forgetful, and have had constant pressure in my ears and head. I know it has been 7 months, because it started as soon as I quit smoking. How do you like that? A woman gives up one of the world's unhealthiest habits, and winds up feeling a million times worse.

I am a diabetic and a bipolar disorder sufferer, so naturally I assumed the PT was related to one or both of those things. Maybe it is. I don't know. Nobody knows. The doctors don't know. What I do know is, I don't take any Lithium at all anymore (was taking 900 mgs/day), my Seroquel dose has been cut in half, and that hasn't helped. High glucose, low glucose - it doesn't seem to matter. I just whoosh.

I went to see an ear/nose/throat doctor last week. An Otolaryngologist. After a bunch of hearing tests, ear pressure tests, looking in my ears, up my nose, and down my throat (I'm surprised he didn't make me ride a hippity-hop in a pink tutu), he told me what I'd already figured out by researching myself online: I have pulsatile tinnitus. Pulsatile tinnitus isn't a condition, it's a symptom OF a condition, he said.

Oh, and my eyes didn't want to follow his finger.
You know, the finger test. The doctor moves his finger in front of your eyes in the shape of an H, really slow. He says, "Follow my finger." I couldn't follow his finger. So now it's off to a neurologist! My health insurance company loves me.

I came home that night and made Scott do the finger test on me about a thousand times. My left eye is especially uncooperative. I started doing the finger test on myself. You can't really do a visual exam on yourself, though, try as I may. I tried to videotape myself doing the test on my phone, but all you could see was my finger moving. I'm forced to take the ENT's (and my husband's) word for it.

If I wanted to put money on it, I'd say my diabetes probably messed with my optic nerves or something like that, but there's always that little part of me that wonders if I'm walking around with a tumor, aneurysm, or some other diagnosis I can't pronounce.

Serenity now!

I've actually found a community of people online who also have PT, which is cool. Whooshers.com is where whooshers like mah-self gather to slowly go mad together from the sound of our own heartbeats. You'd think hearing your heartbeat would be a good thing. Huh. Go figure.

I'm not really scared. It is what it is. God is going to sit on His throne and be a good God regardless of what's wrong with me. But it is sooooooooooooooo frustrating trying to figure out what is going on. Even more frustrating trying to concentrate with WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH going on in your head all day.

This weekend was a good one, though. Softer whooshing, no pain, and I didn't feel the need to hold onto the wall a lot. I even went for a (very brief) swim at the rec center. I made the most of it.

Neurologist appointment is in May. I'm having an MRI and something called an MRA done in the meantime. I just have to figure out how to function while I wait on all this stuff. I'm starting this week by interviewing a couple of attorneys for a story I'm writing, so hopefully I'll be able to hear them over the sound of my own head.







 

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Happy Hump Day, peeps.
By pure accident, I got into Wilson Phillips Still Holding On and now I can't stop watching it. Did you know Chyna Phillips is a Christian? I had no idea. She's not always terribly nice to everyone, but then again... neither am I. I guess we all get to be human. 

Whenever a blogger has been MIA from the blog world for a while, she feels the need to explain her absence, whether anybody cares or not... so let me explain. We'll start with the bad and work our way to the good.

I've had some health problems lately, and that has been my main reason for not blogging. I haven't felt it - blah! Nothing terribly serious, just a lot of ear/nose/sinus issues. The past 6 months I've had pounding/whoosing/roaring in my ears 24/7, I've been lightheaded, I've had really bad headaches, and in trying to figure out my problem, my bipolar meds were in a state of upheaval more than once. (I'm now on less than half the meds I used to take, which I'm thrilled about.) I am more awake and "with it" now, which I contribute to slashing my meds in half. But I'm finally going to see an ENT this week, and I can't wait. I had a CAT scan a couple of weeks ago and it showed that I have a lot of really packed-in sinus gunk waaaaaaay back in my sinuses. It's hard to blog when all you want to do is find a crowbar so you can pop the top of your skull off and relieve the pressure. No lie - I've actually dreamed about doing that.

Now the good news - I've been going through a transformation, y'all! A MAJOR, MAJOR transformation. Things I have struggled with all my life have disappeared in less than a year's time. Through the power of prayer, the support of other understanding believers, and some seriously hard work, God has been setting me free.

I started attending a group called Celebrate Recovery in February 2011. I started actually taking it seriously this past fall. :-)  It's 12-step recovery, but it's recovery from any hurt, habit, or hang-up. Our 'higher power' is Jesus Christ. After many years of trying medication after medication, and seeing counselor after counselor, I'm starting to feel like a whole, healed person... thanks in major part to CR.

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April?

I'm messing around on my blog, Scott is watching "Thor" and I feel a bubble bath coming on. Some parts of Pennsylvania are in the middle of a snowstorm right now. We had a snowstorm in this part of the state once this year... in October. I have to admit... I could have gotten into a snow day, even if all the leaves are on the trees, my toenails are painted a sparkly color, and and all my winter clothes are put away.
I can't decide if I want a bubble bath, or a nap.

At least we have dinner figured out - soup and grilled cheese. Perfect for a cold Sunday, even if the snow ignored us again.

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