IN WHICH I TALK ABOUT MEDS

 

me, Cynthia, & Dakota

I have had a tumultuous relationship in being on medication for my mental illnesses. I am, like many bipolar individuals, notoriously bad at what the doctors refer to as "med compliance" meaning I often will take myself off of my meds. Sometimes with disastrous consequences. Sometimes with no consequences. 

When I first spoke to a doctor about how I was feeling as an adult, it was a GP, and he said I was just anxious and maybe a little depressed. He prescribed me Zoloft. The results of the Zoloft prescription were pretty bad. I went into a rapid cycling bipolar phase where I was manic and then in a deep depressive state every few weeks. It was untenable for both me and everyone around me. I had zero impulse control. I ended my marriage, and although ending the marriage was best the way I did it was entirely wrong. 

Over the years as a teen and young adult, I did take anxiety meds or sleeping meds on and off, but nothing ever really seemed to fully help and so I would take myself off of them. 

I finally went to an actual psychiatrist, who diagnosed me as bipolar one, OCD, with anxiety and PTSD. For the first time in my life I felt like I wasn't crazy. That might seem counterintuitive, but I had reasons for my behavior that meant I wasn't just wild or unmanageable. I was dealing with some circumstances beyond my control, but I could take control through meds and therapy. It was empowering for me. And it was also devastating as I realized I could never stop being vigilant with my mental health. 

I have tried various medications for these issues, and I encourage you to talk to a psychiatrist if you think you have mental health issues. Although my GP meant well, he just wasn't equipped to diagnose me and his prescription turned my life into a waking nightmare. He should have referred me instead of prescribing something. Currently, I am on lamictal for the bipolar and have emergency anxiety meds as well as meds for sleeping and a med for night terrors. It may seem like a lot, but the only one I take daily is the lamictal. The others are just as needed. I also get med checks every other month, as well as therapy. 

In addition to the medications, I also try to maintain some other things in my life to help stabilize myself. One of these things is sleep, which is one of the biggest disruptors of mental health especially those with mood or personality disorders. I try to keep the same general schedule in my day as routine tends to help as well. Overall, there are a multitude of things that can help each individual. What works for one person may not work for another. It's up to us to advocate for ourselves and find the magic combination for us. 

For more, follow me on social media! Click here!

THAT TIME I GOT BULLIED OFF THE INTERNET

 

my old blog header circa 2011

I started my first blog around 2009. I had moved to Oklahoma from Florida in the summer of 2008, and I was feeling the need for a creative outlet, it was essentially a way for my family and friends to keep up on my new life. And at first that's all it was, but then blogs started ramping up and being wildly popular. I started selling ad space on my blog, and soon I was making a significant amount of profit each month. Plus sponsored posts. 

It was the first time I felt like I could probably make money from my writing. My blog grew to have over 15K subscribers, and I felt very proud of it. I had blog friends all over the world, and I mostly managed to escape a lot of the scrutiny that many bloggers faced. 

As Twitter became more and more popular, all the bloggers were using it to connect and promote which was both amazing and ended up being terrible. For me, at least. Obviously I joined Twitter and began to connect and promote. 

I had been blogger for many years at this point, and I felt pretty secure in my ability to ignore hateful comments or any vitriol said about me specifically. 

I was so wrong. 

I can't remember exact dates or even what the disagreement was about. I only remember who, and no I will not say who it was because I never want to experience what happened next again. It's also why I get super weird about fandoms that don't accept any valid criticism of the fandom or the person/thing whatever that the fandom is based on. 

It was circa 2013/2014, I was on Twitter and disagreed with a very popular (think millions of followers) blogger. We were mutuals and had spoken on a number of occasions. They had given me advice on blogging. The disagreement was not a personal attack, and I was not mean or vindictive about it. They disagreed back, then retweeted it and encouraged their fans to go tell me how wrong I was. 

For weeks, I continued trying to fulfill my ad agreements to their contracts, but I couldn't see through the hate mail. It filled my Twitter, my public Facebook page for the blog, my email inbox, and my blog comments. I was told to just "KYS". Everything was made fun of including how I looked, my kid, my then husband, my home, literally nothing was off limits.  Eventually I stopped posting on social media and then I gave up my blog once I ended the contracts I had. 

The thing that was my lifeline, my creative outlet, and to be quite honest the majority of my social life was ruined for me. I couldn't handle the massive amounts of commenting that was pure cruelty. I deleted everything. No social media, no blog...nothing.

Over the years I've gone back to social media and blogging, but it wasn't until recently that I started to actually try to do it again. I want to fulfill my dreams as an author, and in this time period social media is the way to reach the most people. The internet has not gotten nicer, and one could argue that it's gotten much worse. 

I still think I have too much social media because of the whole "niche down" concept. But I do balance it better now. Although I do still find myself cringing when I see these out of control fandoms that attack others for disagreeing with someone, and to be 100% honest I often do not express my disagreements with popular creators online for fear of being attacked again. 

I'm still traumatized by the whole ordeal. It does still control my actions in the online sphere. But I am learning to protect my peace and mental health, so while I often scroll away from disagreements I do still speak out when it's something really important, like human rights. 

It's a balancing act and we're all on a tightrope. 

Follow me on social media! CLICK HERE!

FEELINGS on a FRIDAY

 

I've started and restarted this blog a ton of times because I'm angry, and I don't want to just spew my anger onto the world or say something that we will all regret.

Lately, I have been feeling sad. Like a nostalgic sort of sad where I miss my family and friends from my past. I have been thinking about times I missed to spend with those that are dead. I wish I had learned my grandma's recipes. I miss "helping" my uncle when he would work on my cars. I miss my grandpa and going to breakfast with him. I miss those that live far away. I miss hanging out with my mom, seeing my nieces grow up. I miss the friends I had back then; they're still my friends but from a distance. 

I think the breaking up of friendships in my life recently has made me reminisce about having true friendships and people who are real in my life. 

It's also been an emotional time as I've decided to rehome some horses that we had taken in. It's always emotional for me when they leave, but I know that in order for them all to have the attention they deserve then it's time. Read more about it over at my horse blog. Here!

It's sort of been a culmination of things that have gotten me feeling just a little sad. But this season will pass as they always do.

Follow me on social media! 

This is the story of a girl....

 Let me tell you this story. 

It's about a girl, woman really, who wanted a stable life and family for her son so badly that she entered into a relationship and marriage with someone who, on the outside seemed like, they wanted the same thing. And how that person destroyed her. 

When my son was seven years old, I was finally ready for another relationship after being single for almost two years following a physically and mentally abusive relationship with a man that left me depressed for over a year. That's when I met T. By all outer appearances, T appeared like a stable nice person who worked, helped his mom and sister, and also wanted to find someone to build a life with. 

And a life was built. 

However, during that life I found out that things are not always as they appear. It wasn't until after I moved to Oklahoma after dating long distance for a year that I began to learn more. I saw a lot of red flags, but I ignored them because I was desperate to provide my son that nuclear family, and T was an excellent dad to J. A little too strict, but it was clear that he loved him a great deal and would do anything for him along with the rest of his family. For that, I was willing to overlook the toll the relationship was taking on me. 

When I began to ask for things to change, I was always assured that they would and then they never did. This cycle went on repeatedly for years. To even get T to take me seriously I would have to threaten to leave, then the same empty promises that things would change would occur, rinse and repeat. 

Over the course of nearly ten years, I was made fun of (by my then husband) about my stretch marks from being pregnant, about the weight I gained when my physical health began to decline (and let me put this in perspective: before this man got his weight loss surgery he was over 400 pounds with me never making fun of his weight struggles), my hair was too straight, my eye was crooked, etc. 

I was also told that I would never fulfill my rodeo and barrel racing goals because I wasn't a good rider. I had never ridden a nice horse. I didn't have the skills to do this. And even though it's been years, I still struggle with confidence in riding. I literally hear his voice in my head telling me these things. 

As my mental health began to decline, I began having wilder swings with my undiagnosed bipolar. My anxiety was uncontainable. I lost my impulse control. The only thing tethering me to any sort of reality was my son. And slowly T began to take that as well. Outings with my son were controlled. I was told that the things we liked to do together like see movies, or watch certain shows together, or read books was useless and stupid and I needed to grow up. It was a fight every time I wanted to take him to a midnight premiere of something we loved or go spend the day doing something deemed "stupid" by T. 

As J got older I felt him slipping away with the constant making fun of me and things I liked and promoting things that T liked. And by time my kid was in high school and the marriage was finally done, I had been painted as a crazy impulsive mentally unstable person. And T had come out as the victim of this person who tried his best and failed because I was just "too psychotic". 

Looking back I know it was gaslighting and mentally abusive. I actually didn't realize it was mental abuse until I was telling my therapist about some of the things I was struggling with that had been said to me by him and she just told me. I still have trouble with it. It has and continues to follow me. 

+++++

I'm going to write the full stories in my MeNoirs which I am working on, but I wanted to share some excerpts of what I'm working on here as well. The writing of this meNoir in which I explore my propensity for toxic relationships with men is cathartic. It is bringing up all of the buried shit that I need and want to deal with. 

I hope y'all love it. 

Hello 2024

 

This picture is taken in a time when I was deeply unhappy, my mental health was off the deep end, and I was on the verge of destroying my life because of the combination of those two things. 

I'm not even close to the same person that I was in that photo. 

And in 2024, I'm going to embrace even more being who I am. My word for the year is authentic. 

As I work on my memoir collection, I want to share openly about my life and the things I've worked through. I want other people to know that they can overcome the same things that I've overcome. I want them to know that it won't be easy, and it won't be linear...but it can be done. 

I often hold back out of fear of being "too much" or something. But if I'm too much then they can go find less. I'm heading into 2024 letting go of my insecurities and my fear of what others thing or fear of failing. For me, 2024 is more about letting go of things that no longer serve me instead of trying to become something I am not. 

Follow me online here!

  

Episodes of Bipolar: Traffic Court

 

When I was a youngster and not diagnosed yet things were way harder for me. I was acting wild, couldn't control a lot of my impulses, self medicating, and just generally being a menace to myself while making my family worry about me. 

After the diagnosis, things got much easier. So I'll be sharing a series of "Episodes of Bipolar" about things and situations that I created due to my lack of impulse control and manic symptoms. Some of these stories are hilarious...now. 

At the time they were happening though I was actively changing the course of my life, precluding myself from things I had been working towards, and just generally derailing my own hard work. That's the thing with people who have mental illnesses, often they are hurting mostly themselves. Of course, I already had a child by this time and if I had continued on that path I would have affected him as well. I'm not saying that those in the vicinity of the mentally ill are not affected. I'm just saying we are usually ruining our own lives with our decisions. 

The year was 2004. I was finishing up my first bachelors degree in Law & Criminology. Ironic that I was studying the law while breaking it. 

I had gone to visit my father a few months before and my headlight went out on the two hour drive. I got a ticket. My father replaced my headlight before I went home, kept the receipt as proof, and took the ticket so he could pay it for me.

Fast forward a few months later, and I am out with friends drinking. Because the person who was supposed to drive started doing shots, I only had one drink. He gets in a fight on the way out of the club. I drive us away. We get pulled over. 

My license is suspended. Why you ask? Oh well for FAILURE TO PAY A FUCKING HEADLIGHT TICKET OF $15!!!!! The tags on the car don't belong to the car (not my car, so Idk about all that), and there is no insurance. I get arrested. The car gets impounded.

I spend the night in jail and am let go the next morning with an order to go to traffic court and get all the license stuff fixed prior to that. 

When I show up to traffic court, I have proof of paying the ticket, and show my car's registration and insurance as proof that the car I was driving that night wasn't mine, so that I can get the court paper to get my license reinstated. The judge starts asking me questions. I honestly don't even remember what he was asking, but I guess I felt defensive that day because I started asking him a few questions. 

My questions:

Are you happy that you went to law school to be a fucking traffic court judge?

Are your parents proud of you being a fucking traffic court judge? 

And other questions along that same line of questioning. Eventually, my Papaw, who had driven me, stood up and asked me to please be quiet. The judge told him that he was going to be held in contempt too if he didn't sit down, and that was what it took for me to shut up. Not for myself, but for my Papaw. 

Anyway, I got taken by the bailiff because apparently my questions were wrong. And I went to jail for four days and three nights. I probably would have gotten out sooner, except it was a Thursday; plus, I decided to heckle the guards taking us to the jail on the entire drive. They made sure we arrived after 1800 to miss the Friday docket deadline. I mean, I can't prove that...but if they did that then good for them. I was being a real McAsshole. 

Anyway, when I look back on this I now know that I was unable to control those impulses because my brain was in full on mania, so I just reacted and said whatever little asshole thought came into my brain without any regards for the consequences. Now I say this not as an excuse for my behavior, but as a reason which is different. I'm not saying that people who are mentally ill cannot have consequences. I'm just saying that I think the mentally ill courts that are separate in some states is a good way to go in dealing with these types of issues. And I did have consequences. I spent time in jail, I had numerous fines for contempt, and I still had to do all the initial things that had landed me in court in the first place. 

Would I do this now?

Absolutely not. 

But I'm on the right medications, I have been to A LOT of therapy, and I have learned a lot of skills to help with my manic thinking and behaviors. 

If you or someone you know is exhibiting signs like these, please talk to a mental health professional. Talk to the person. No one ever talked to me. They all just said things like, "well that's how Rhonda is" or "you know how Rhonda is...crazy" and well yeah. Even on my medication, I am A LOT. I know this, but I also know that my normal and my out of control are two different things. 

Follow me online! 

On getting diagnosed with Bipolar

 

Things change after you get a diagnosis that is the correct one, find medication that helps, and start learning skills in therapy that make living more accessible. 

Prior to my actual diagnosis, I struggled in life and in doing simple things. I struggled to understand my thoughts and emotions. I didn't know why I couldn't control my impulses. I couldn't understand why I would act in these wild and reckless ways nearly ruining my whole life, and definitely wrecking some aspects beyond repair. 

After years of anguish and not being able to understand my own mind I finally got an accurate diagnosis. I cried that day in the psychiatrist's office. Not because I was upset that I had been diagnosed as Bipolar, but because I felt like I was finally ready going to be able to figure things out. 

I don't want to say that there was an immediate change after being diagnosed. I got officially diagnosed in 2015, and although I understand myself much more because although I guessed that this was my diagnosis I didn't know for sure and I couldn't prescribe myself any medication. 

I've tried multiple combinations of medications, and over time things will likely change again and again as things change in my life or with other issues that arise. 

The initial diagnosis changed my life. I kept the anxiety diagnosis as well, and the psychiatrist added PTSD and OCD. 

I've been hospitalized for psychiatric holds, gone to several psychiatrists, been in the court system, and seen multiple therapists all with differing diagnoses. It wasn't until I went to my family doctor with my feelings, got diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, and put on Zoloft that I sought more help. 

The Zoloft triggered mania in me, and by this time in my life I realized that the things I was doing was far outside of my character. It was a mania where I felt like I was trapped and someone else was behaving in ways that I never entertain behaving. I'd always been impulsive in a sort of act before I thought type of way in emotional situations, but these were beyond that. 

It was at that time that I sought help. 

I share this story to say that if you feel that you need help, there is zero shame in getting it. I wish that I had sought help earlier, but I didn't for a myriad of reasons and looking back not a single one of them was good enough. I could have saved myself so much heart break and gotten so much farther in my life and goals if I had sought help sooner. 

Click here to follow me online!