With my bipolar diagnosis, I have tried to be open and honest about what I deal with and my experiences. I've hoped to be able to help others not be afraid to talk about their situations as mental health still has a huge stigma attached to it. I have used my ability to laugh and my sarcasm to find light and joke about what I deal with. I don't believe it's something to be ashamed about. People are afraid to talk about it because people judge, make assumptions and make us out to be people that need to be in straight jackets and padded rooms. Little do people know, that there are many of us who are able to function day to day; people who regularly take their medications; are able to hold jobs and be good parents. But, no one knows because people are afraid to talk.
I've recently had an experience where I shared that I was bipolar and had voluntarily checked myself into the psych ward as I detoxed off my medications when I found out I was pregnant with kid part 2. This, unfortunately, has come back to kick me in the rear and effect my family. My ability to be a good parent has come into question which leaves me beyond heart broken to the extent that I have no words to explain my sadness. Luckily, I have a multitude of things on my side to back me up with my experiences over the last few months and within the last year. I have multiple people who can attest to my parenting ability and my mental health. With that said, I have decided to stop sharing my experiences online and vocally because having it come back and be used against me has left me in complete disbelief and astonishment.
To those with mental health issues or other health issues, please stay strong. You are not alone. I'm saddened that at this point, I no longer feel like I can share my experiences but need to take care of myself and my family. I am grateful for the support of others have shown me through this blog, private messaging, and in person. Thank you for the opportunity to share and even over share at times, my feelings and experiences throughout my last year. I again, am grateful for the support of friends and family as I have worked hard to work through my disorder and try to share my experience.
My best to all who struggle with similar struggles and situations.
Sincerely,
Allyson
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Trying to cope
Being bipolar seems to bring its own set of struggles in life especially when stress is involved. My last two years have been long and has taken a great toll on me personally. Even with medication, I still struggle to manage my depression and find joy and happiness. My son was born in May and we've been though a great deal of stress with problems which occurred after delivery. Trying to manage a nearly 2 year old and a newborn has been extremely difficult as I struggle with post partum depression, my bipolar and all of the changes the last few months have brought. We purchased a store in town that we're trying to get going as well. My stress knows no bounds right now. I feel weighed down by the responsibilities I have and trying to keep it all together. I just want to run away. As we've accumulated multiple bills from my sons birth, we've started a Go Fund Me account explaining what transpired during our time after my son was born. I hate asking for help, but our burdens are great and our stress is overwhelming. Please read through our story. If you're able to donate, thanks. If not, please share our story.
Logan's Hero's
Logan's Hero's
Saturday, May 23, 2015
My broken heart
As I sit here, I'm in the fourth hospital within the last two weeks, third this week in two states with my newborn son. Nothing hurts more than watching your kids suffer. My son has two heart issues, one will hopefully resolve itself within a year, a particially collapsed lung at birth which was inflated easily, and now pyloric stenosis (surgery scheduled soon), my heart has broken more times than I ever imagined possible. I feel useless as I try to take care of my husband and daughter and be with my son unable to do anything. I just have no words how difficult this has been on everyone. Just when I think we're through something, my heart breaks again with something else.
I keep getting told to take care of myself. How do you do that when you're heartbroken and torn in multiple directions. Grateful that I got back on my bipolar meds right after having my son. Don't think I haven't completely lost it more than once, but I know that the meds have helped and am glad.
While at Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, MO, we met many families in worse situations and I know it could be worse. This situation hasn't been awesome by any means, though. Love your loved ones, hold them close, tell them you love them.
I keep getting told to take care of myself. How do you do that when you're heartbroken and torn in multiple directions. Grateful that I got back on my bipolar meds right after having my son. Don't think I haven't completely lost it more than once, but I know that the meds have helped and am glad.
While at Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, MO, we met many families in worse situations and I know it could be worse. This situation hasn't been awesome by any means, though. Love your loved ones, hold them close, tell them you love them.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Reflection
As I reflect over the last nine months, I am unsure of what to say about my experience as a whole or how I feel about all of it. Surreal seems like a good word. Definitely not a time I'd like to repeat, ever. Heck, my last two years have been something I never imagined. So many highs and so many lows have pushed me further than I thought I could handle. Motherhood has been a far different experience than I thought it would be. I love my daughter. She is adorable, spunky, smart and has a load of personality! She loves people and animals. She is kind hearted and a sweetheart. She definitely keeps me on my toes. I guess, I feel inadequate as a mother and my struggles with that insecurity has been tough. I guess I thought I'd feel more like Mary Poppins and less like Ms. Hannigan from the movie "Annie". Ha ha. I expected better of myself. I know that my daughter loves me. I can see it in her face and I'm grateful that she sees past my short comings because she is a delight.
I can only hope that as we begin a new journey as we welcome my son into our little family, that I can continue to improve and be the best mom I can be.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Motherhood.... why can't we be nicer
As I'm within weeks of delivering my second child, I've had a few articles about mommy shaming pop up from various sources. Now, I have had other things on my mind I've wanted to blog about but wanted to weigh in.
The breast feeders shame the bottle feeders, the attachment parenting people shame the non attachment parenting people. Now, I don't know about you, but parenting has been the hardest thing I have ever done. My guilt runneth over all in its own. I don't need help feeling inadequate as a mother. So, where do these people get off?
For example, I recall after having my daughter, breast feeding her was a nightmare. It took three sets of hands to get her to kind of latch. Once home, it was nearly impossible. Within less than a week, she had lost a pound and I'm in with the lactation consultant sleep deprived and sobbing because my daughter wasn't eating. She thought we keep going like this for another two days. After talking with my husband, we decided that I'd use a breast pump (which I did 5-6 times a day for 4.5 months). We tell the consultant this only to have her demeanor completely and negatively change towards us and shamed us for not trying longer. I have no doubt that I did the right thing for my kid and no regrets. I hate that damn pump, it's lucky I didn't back over it with my car, but, I did the right thing. This round, I can't breast feed. I need to get back on my meds. Being in a healthy place mentally has had to override things. I wish I could, but I can't and will not let some over zealous breastfeeding Nazi make me feel bad. I need to be the best mom I can be under the circumstances. I make no apologies for not being able to. I've gone through enough "being crazy" within the last two years to last a life time. Especially during this pregnancy. I need to be sane so to hell with the breastfeeding Nazi's! ;)
Not everything works the same way for everyone. Why is there this need to shame people for it? Do the best you can. There's so much conflicting information on things, it can drive you crazy. Co sleeping is great; don't co sleep; let the kids cry it out...... It's like your damned if you do and damned if you don't.
So, why do women feel the need to shame other women because of things like this? I don't think it makes you a better mom if you're able to do something another mother can't. Good for you. Either you're the Mother Teresa of parenting or struggling just as much as the rest of us and are embarrassed. If motherhood has come easily for you, I'm jealous. LOVE my kid, but man, this is hard. I feel like a complete failure frequently. I'm doing my best and believe most moms are in the same boat.
Please be kind. I believe we all have our strengths as parents and could stand to be kinder, especially to other moms.
Monday, November 17, 2014
My time in the joint (a.k.a. I checked myself into the psych ward)
Yes, I'm referring to my time in the psych ward/hospital as "the joint" or "the clink". I use both interchangeably when I actually talk about my time there. Sarcasm was my weapon of choice as I attempted to deal with my feelings and my recovery. Since getting out, I've been trying to formulate what to say. The verdict is still out on my feelings about going in and coming out. I've tried to come up with something and have struggled as to what to say.
Prior to going into the joint, I probably hit the lowest point of my life in dealing with and managing my long battle with depression and fairly recent diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Due to being pregnant, I had to come off my current meds and did so abruptly. (Not so smart on my part, P.S.) I was then put on Zoloft which I could tell quickly, WAS NOT WORKING! Between crazy lady pregnant hormones, going cold turkey off my meds and the not working Zoloft, I was a mess to say the least. I couldn't feel any emotion. No happiness, no sad. Just a constant state of nothing; I was a shell. I didn't want to die/kill myself. I just couldn't go on not feeling and having this constant state of emptiness. With the help of my amazing father, he came to Kansas to take me back to Utah to have a change of scenery in hopes that would help. I knew on some level, that I needed help, more than just going back to Utah for a few weeks could help. My second week in town, I checked myself into the psych hospital at University of Utah. To be at that point of knowing I needed to go to the psych ward, was a hard moment. Without the help of the few people who really knew what was going on, I wouldn't have been able to do it. I will be forever grateful for the support of my husband, my parents and sister, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law who took my kid for a few days on top of three of their own. To my in-laws and parents for helping watch my kid as well. It was a huge burden to ask of everyone. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I spent nine days in the joint. Two days too long if you ask me, but I'm no doctor. While there, I met many amazing people, like me, who just wanted to get better. I'm grateful for the friends I made who made my experience bearable. While there, I was able to find my smile again and smile like I meant it (insert Killers song here). An ability I had lost. Being able to do that again was huge! It was like coming out of the dark into the light. Being able to feel again was another major accomplishment for me. The good and the bad, I was feeling again which was wonderful. It gave me hope that I was still in this shell of a body. It gave me hope that I might get through this hell I had been enduring. To be able to function again, "normally", was something I took for granted.
Though, I have to share a few things I found funny about my experience there:
1. So, being in a psych ward, razors with blades weren't allowed necessarily, though I did pack my razor to shave my legs. I could have it if I wanted to use it, but someone had to be standing outside the shower. I wanted to shave my legs but didn't want to be baby sat, either. My sarcasm came out and I informed the poor charge nurse that, "I wasn't about to slice and dice my legs, if I was going to try and kill myself, it would be by overdose and that wasn't happening here". (They kept keep all your meds and disperse them at allotted times during the day as needed) I also informed the poor guy that if someone stood outside the shower, I would give a blow by blow of where I was shaving (I'm now shaving my left thy!). Luckily, I won and got to shave my legs in peace! :)
2. The other bit of funny was that they wouldn't let me keep my Q-tips. I could use them if I went and asked, but I couldn't keep them in my room. They kept relatively "safe" things in a bin and you could go ask for them. I don't know if they thought I'd try sticking them up my roommates nose, or what, but I couldn't keep them in my room. But, they let me keep my bobby pins. Now, if I had really wanted to , I could have pulled off the rubber tips of thus said bobby pins and really gone to town. Now, I didn't want my hair running a muck, so I wasn't about to point out the irony them letting me have my bobby pins. I don't know, maybe in my present state, all of that just struck me as funny and ironic. Hey, it gave me a good laugh!
3. Now, I'm known to call my husband a smart ass on occasion when he's being intentionally stupid just to get a rise out of me. His attempts to get me to say that or to react, needless to say, had stopped. Again, still not feeling. So, one day, while still in the clink, a friend of mine said something that instantly had this knee jerk reaction of, "smart ass!" When I suddenly thought that, I had to laugh! I thought, "oh my gosh! I'm still in here!" I was thrilled to be able to report this story to my husband later that night.
Music was instrumental for me during my time. As I mentioned, I had the Killer's song, "Smile Like You Mean It" in my head. I also had, "All These Things That I've Done", also by the Killer's, stuck in my head. One of my favorite musicians is a guy by the name of David Gray. He does a song called, "Fugitive". Now, in the lyrics, it talks about that you "gotta try". That just stuck with me as I was struggling to get through all of this is, that all I need to do was try, just hold on, fight. Another song was Collin Hay's song, "Waiting For My Real Life To Begin". I don't know if anyone says at 16, geez, when I'm 37, I'd like to check myself into the psych ward. Definitely wasn't part of my "plan" for my life. Like, "is this really my life?" His song, "It's A Beautiful World" is another I really like. Realizing or remembering that there are plenty of beautiful things around, I just need to look. Anyhow, just a few of my "recovery" songs.
I hope that my experience in the clink can help someone see that things can be worked through, even from the lowest points in your life. Hold on.
Prior to going into the joint, I probably hit the lowest point of my life in dealing with and managing my long battle with depression and fairly recent diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Due to being pregnant, I had to come off my current meds and did so abruptly. (Not so smart on my part, P.S.) I was then put on Zoloft which I could tell quickly, WAS NOT WORKING! Between crazy lady pregnant hormones, going cold turkey off my meds and the not working Zoloft, I was a mess to say the least. I couldn't feel any emotion. No happiness, no sad. Just a constant state of nothing; I was a shell. I didn't want to die/kill myself. I just couldn't go on not feeling and having this constant state of emptiness. With the help of my amazing father, he came to Kansas to take me back to Utah to have a change of scenery in hopes that would help. I knew on some level, that I needed help, more than just going back to Utah for a few weeks could help. My second week in town, I checked myself into the psych hospital at University of Utah. To be at that point of knowing I needed to go to the psych ward, was a hard moment. Without the help of the few people who really knew what was going on, I wouldn't have been able to do it. I will be forever grateful for the support of my husband, my parents and sister, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law who took my kid for a few days on top of three of their own. To my in-laws and parents for helping watch my kid as well. It was a huge burden to ask of everyone. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I spent nine days in the joint. Two days too long if you ask me, but I'm no doctor. While there, I met many amazing people, like me, who just wanted to get better. I'm grateful for the friends I made who made my experience bearable. While there, I was able to find my smile again and smile like I meant it (insert Killers song here). An ability I had lost. Being able to do that again was huge! It was like coming out of the dark into the light. Being able to feel again was another major accomplishment for me. The good and the bad, I was feeling again which was wonderful. It gave me hope that I was still in this shell of a body. It gave me hope that I might get through this hell I had been enduring. To be able to function again, "normally", was something I took for granted.
Though, I have to share a few things I found funny about my experience there:
1. So, being in a psych ward, razors with blades weren't allowed necessarily, though I did pack my razor to shave my legs. I could have it if I wanted to use it, but someone had to be standing outside the shower. I wanted to shave my legs but didn't want to be baby sat, either. My sarcasm came out and I informed the poor charge nurse that, "I wasn't about to slice and dice my legs, if I was going to try and kill myself, it would be by overdose and that wasn't happening here". (They kept keep all your meds and disperse them at allotted times during the day as needed) I also informed the poor guy that if someone stood outside the shower, I would give a blow by blow of where I was shaving (I'm now shaving my left thy!). Luckily, I won and got to shave my legs in peace! :)
2. The other bit of funny was that they wouldn't let me keep my Q-tips. I could use them if I went and asked, but I couldn't keep them in my room. They kept relatively "safe" things in a bin and you could go ask for them. I don't know if they thought I'd try sticking them up my roommates nose, or what, but I couldn't keep them in my room. But, they let me keep my bobby pins. Now, if I had really wanted to , I could have pulled off the rubber tips of thus said bobby pins and really gone to town. Now, I didn't want my hair running a muck, so I wasn't about to point out the irony them letting me have my bobby pins. I don't know, maybe in my present state, all of that just struck me as funny and ironic. Hey, it gave me a good laugh!
3. Now, I'm known to call my husband a smart ass on occasion when he's being intentionally stupid just to get a rise out of me. His attempts to get me to say that or to react, needless to say, had stopped. Again, still not feeling. So, one day, while still in the clink, a friend of mine said something that instantly had this knee jerk reaction of, "smart ass!" When I suddenly thought that, I had to laugh! I thought, "oh my gosh! I'm still in here!" I was thrilled to be able to report this story to my husband later that night.
Music was instrumental for me during my time. As I mentioned, I had the Killer's song, "Smile Like You Mean It" in my head. I also had, "All These Things That I've Done", also by the Killer's, stuck in my head. One of my favorite musicians is a guy by the name of David Gray. He does a song called, "Fugitive". Now, in the lyrics, it talks about that you "gotta try". That just stuck with me as I was struggling to get through all of this is, that all I need to do was try, just hold on, fight. Another song was Collin Hay's song, "Waiting For My Real Life To Begin". I don't know if anyone says at 16, geez, when I'm 37, I'd like to check myself into the psych ward. Definitely wasn't part of my "plan" for my life. Like, "is this really my life?" His song, "It's A Beautiful World" is another I really like. Realizing or remembering that there are plenty of beautiful things around, I just need to look. Anyhow, just a few of my "recovery" songs.
I hope that my experience in the clink can help someone see that things can be worked through, even from the lowest points in your life. Hold on.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Survival
In my mind, my last year is not one I'd like to repeat. Giving birth, health problems, problems adjusting to parenthood, a death in the family, selling my house and moving out of state and a myriad of other things have left me feeling worn out beyond what I feel like I can handle.
My last two weeks have been hell. Due to some unforeseen events, I had to stop my meds and went without for two weeks. I just started some new ones, and I think they're kicking in, but by this morning, if I had been in Utah, (with extended family member to watch my daughter) I would have checked myself into the psych ward. My current ability to handle things is at a minimum. Just getting by moment by moment has been beyond hard. Not killing myself, not because I want to die, because I want the pain to stop. I want to feel normal again. I want to enjoy my daughter again and not be reminded that she deserves a mother who's better than me every time I look in the mirror.
Please realize that I share this ugly truth about my life as of late, not for sympathy. Though I wouldn't blame for thinking, "damn, I'm glad that it's not me". I am hoping to help someone else see that they aren't alone. If we keep silent about things, we become isolated and feel alone. I'm tired of feeling alone.
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