Travis and I have some downstairs neighbors that argue, yell, slam doors, and even supposedly hit each other right in front of their 5 year old little girl. Yesterday, the little girl ran outside and shouted "I can't take this anymore!" Then we heard doors slamming and the parents yelling at each other. The man was calling the woman profane names and the anger was running rampant. Want to know how we reacted?
Well, first, Travis has worked on his anger issues immensely. He no longer gets triggered or when he does he takes a deep breath and let's it go. I am so proud and thankful. I had to tell Travis that his anger was a deal breaker for me as I came from an angry and abusive household. He never hit me or anyone else but he would throw things or slam doors in the past. For example, he picked up the trash can one day and threw it down hard and it hit my leg. That was the last straw for me. I told him and his family he had to fix his anger quick or I would be gone. He fixed it by reading a book I bought him called "The Cow in the Parking Lot", some med changes, and just deciding that I was worth it. It took some time and a lot of working through it together. I finally feel safe again in our relationship. Travis is a different man today.
Many of the neighbors were outside or had their doors open because of the little girl. We all wanted to help her. A neighbor downstairs called the police. Travis came to the door and angrily yelled "Are they at it again?!!" hoping it would make them realize we were all watching and hoping they would stop. But all he did was add fuel to the fire and let out his own anger. I told him you are supposed to de-escalate anger not add to it. Travis was literally shaking after that. He kept apologizing to me over and over. He just let a little anger out, but felt like he had failed terribly. It's amazing how much it affected him and how easy their anger triggered his own.
The police came and settled the matter. The mom left with the little girl. Now Travis has decided he doesn't like being around angry people. The veil has lifted and he gets it. He really gets it. Today he said to me "I used to act that way, but now I know anger like that is not normal." This is huge to me because a year ago Travis was that angry guy. He didn't know how to set boundaries without yelling and screaming, or throwing things. He does now. And it has literally saved our marriage. I really hope that the lady downstairs is strong enough to stand her ground to not take the abuse and I hope the man gets help for his anger issues. If you or a loved one has anger issues, there is hope. People can and do change.
Married and Both Bipolar
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Friday, February 22, 2013
What it's like in a Psych Ward or Mental Hospital
I was in a mental hospital twice last year for Bipolar related psychosis. Want to know what it was like and how I got there? Not all hospitals are the same but this was how my experience went as I remember it. The first time I went in was after a visit to the ER for pyschotic symptoms. I was delusional, thinking I was God-like and could control the TV, etc. They had the police transport me to the hospital. They were going to cuff me but my mom begged them not to and told them I wasn't violent. Travis was even allowed to ride in the police car with me. This was a good thing for everybody because at the time I was clinging to my family and was struggling with my identity. I didn't know who I was anymore. I remember asking Travis who I was and how I was supposed to act. He told me I am Staci and was there to get help. We pulled up and went in where a man asked me a bunch of questions and had me sign a paper. Then I was taken to a room where there was another girl sleeping who was snoring loud and yelling out in her sleep. It scared me so they allowed me to sleep in a room by myself the first night. I was going in and out of psychosis which I believe was caused by lack of sleep. So I slept and slept and slept.
The first day they left me alone to sleep most of the time. Nurses would come in and check vital signs and ask how I was doing. They say they take it easy on you the first day. The second day I was woken up for breakfast. I remember just sitting there staring at the food. I was freaked out by all the other people there who were also exhibiting bizarre behavior. One man was angry and violent and they kept him in his room all the time with a nurse at the door at all times. One of the other patients helped me by encouraging me to take a bite of food. I had lost a lot of weight as food was not important to me at the time. But I do like bacon, so I tried it. That particular patient was a care-taker. He took it upon himself to care for newbies like me. After breakfast I went back to bed and avoided socializing with other patients. Then a nurse came in and said it was time for group. We had a group session where we did a bit of stretching then we were asked to go one by one and rate our mood and tell what our goal was for the day. I put on my acting hat because all I wanted to do was go home. I said I was an 8 and my goal was to go home that day. And I did. I hid my symptoms very well at the onset of psychosis so the Psych Dr just put that I was depressed and sent me home.
The very next day we were back at the ER. I was doing things like talking to people who weren't there, had beliefs that I was going to die and that my daughter was going to die and that my Dad was going to die. Travis says I was gone. The real me just wasn't home. I can remember his anguish and frustration. Poor guy. I kept trying to take my clothes off and run outside. I thought if I could get outside then God could take me in place of my handicapped daughter. I did not want her to die. These were of course just symptoms of mania/psychosis and I was put right back in the hospital. They had to trick me this time though. I was taken by ambulance from the ER in my hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket. I am usually very modest but when I realized I was going back I became frantic. My back end was hanging out for all to see and I didn't even care. I was just crying and crying. The nurses kept asking if I remembered them but I only remembered two people and they were the only one's I would talk to. They made me take off my gown in a secluded room and wrote down any scars or marks I had on my body. This was torturous for me as I was sexually abused and am very modest because of it. I was allowed to sleep for awhile but then they got me into the "schedule." Almost every hour was scheduled during the day. We had group in the morning which was just like last time. I tried pretending I was OK again but my actions in the evening showed I was not. Then we had a nutritionist come to speak with us. We had craft time, we had game time, and played Apples to Apples or the Wii. We had a meditation class, a positive affirmation class, and more. They didn't MAKE you go to groups but the people who did usually got out faster so I went to every group. I thought I would get out quickly. They didn't even make you take a shower. There were two girls who did nothing but sit in front of the TV. One of them never showered and stunk pretty bad. The other seemed snotty. There were cliques just like high school. I wanted out.
We had med time where we all lined up for our meds. They would watch you take the meds and make you stick out your tongue after each swallow. Usually your assigned nurse kept track of when you needed meds and would come get you if you weren't in line. We were checked on every 15 minutes, even through our sleep.
My mom and Travis would call me quite often. There was a 10 minute time limit on phone calls and two phones. This time was so hard on Travis. He faithfully visited me during the week for our hour each night. There was NO weekend visitation. That was hard. Travis actually became suicidal during this time because I would beg him to take me home and he couldn't. He tried once but they said the 72 hour hold didn't include weekends.This meant the court granted the Dr permission to keep me in spite of mine and Travis's wishes. I wasn't even suicidal. But I was delusional.
It turned into a 9 day ordeal. I became very paranoid. I did things like accuse Travis of cheating on me and accused my mom of wanting to keep me in there forever. I even ran into one of the other patients room and woke her up in the middle of the night because I thought she was dying. (She was a very old lady and I was worried about her.) That little stunt got me pulled into the main room by dragging me on the floor and holding me down to give me a shot. I was left with a giant bruise on my arm from where security grabbed me. Then I was the one who had a nurse at my door. I was put on a different medication nearly every day. I guess they thought it wasn't working. I saw more than one Pysch Dr. so each one would put me on a different med. This frustrated my family.
We would meet with the Psych Dr every day and if he thought it was time to go home he would tell you right then. So waiting for that visit every day became very stressful. I wasn't able to fool anybody this time. Every day my goal was to go home. I gave my family hell for putting me in the system where I felt like a prisoner. Finally I decided that my goal should be to get better and take advantage of the help I was getting. That was instilled in me by another patient who also had been there a while and wanted to go home. The Dr could go to the court and get an order to keep us whether we wanted to go home or not. He had me on 72 hour holds several times.
The good things about the hospital were that somebody cleaned up after us and made our beds and cooked us food. On Fridays we had pizza and popcorn. I found my clique and had made friends. I was learning about myself and my illness.
I remember that one night I had went crazy over not having my wedding rings. I said to everyone "I bet you all think I'm crazy. Just crazy Staci." And one of the ladies looked at me and said "Well we're all in here with you!!" And that stopped me in my tracks. She became a close friend of mine inside. It's weird that I actually miss a lot of the people I was in there with. I wonder how they are doing now. One guy in there thought I was a girl he went to school with and he had a major crush on me. That was weird to deal with. When Travis came to pick me up the guy was upset. He did not want me to go home.
But, on day 9 I finally got to come home. I still wasn't all better but I was functioning. They set up appointments for me at a local mental health center for psychotherapy and to meet with a new Psych Dr. I have not missed an appointment in a year. I feel like I am finally on the right track now. My stay was scary but necessary. It made me realize I DO have a problem and need medicated. Feel free to ask me any questions about my stay that I did not address.
The first day they left me alone to sleep most of the time. Nurses would come in and check vital signs and ask how I was doing. They say they take it easy on you the first day. The second day I was woken up for breakfast. I remember just sitting there staring at the food. I was freaked out by all the other people there who were also exhibiting bizarre behavior. One man was angry and violent and they kept him in his room all the time with a nurse at the door at all times. One of the other patients helped me by encouraging me to take a bite of food. I had lost a lot of weight as food was not important to me at the time. But I do like bacon, so I tried it. That particular patient was a care-taker. He took it upon himself to care for newbies like me. After breakfast I went back to bed and avoided socializing with other patients. Then a nurse came in and said it was time for group. We had a group session where we did a bit of stretching then we were asked to go one by one and rate our mood and tell what our goal was for the day. I put on my acting hat because all I wanted to do was go home. I said I was an 8 and my goal was to go home that day. And I did. I hid my symptoms very well at the onset of psychosis so the Psych Dr just put that I was depressed and sent me home.
The very next day we were back at the ER. I was doing things like talking to people who weren't there, had beliefs that I was going to die and that my daughter was going to die and that my Dad was going to die. Travis says I was gone. The real me just wasn't home. I can remember his anguish and frustration. Poor guy. I kept trying to take my clothes off and run outside. I thought if I could get outside then God could take me in place of my handicapped daughter. I did not want her to die. These were of course just symptoms of mania/psychosis and I was put right back in the hospital. They had to trick me this time though. I was taken by ambulance from the ER in my hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket. I am usually very modest but when I realized I was going back I became frantic. My back end was hanging out for all to see and I didn't even care. I was just crying and crying. The nurses kept asking if I remembered them but I only remembered two people and they were the only one's I would talk to. They made me take off my gown in a secluded room and wrote down any scars or marks I had on my body. This was torturous for me as I was sexually abused and am very modest because of it. I was allowed to sleep for awhile but then they got me into the "schedule." Almost every hour was scheduled during the day. We had group in the morning which was just like last time. I tried pretending I was OK again but my actions in the evening showed I was not. Then we had a nutritionist come to speak with us. We had craft time, we had game time, and played Apples to Apples or the Wii. We had a meditation class, a positive affirmation class, and more. They didn't MAKE you go to groups but the people who did usually got out faster so I went to every group. I thought I would get out quickly. They didn't even make you take a shower. There were two girls who did nothing but sit in front of the TV. One of them never showered and stunk pretty bad. The other seemed snotty. There were cliques just like high school. I wanted out.
We had med time where we all lined up for our meds. They would watch you take the meds and make you stick out your tongue after each swallow. Usually your assigned nurse kept track of when you needed meds and would come get you if you weren't in line. We were checked on every 15 minutes, even through our sleep.
My mom and Travis would call me quite often. There was a 10 minute time limit on phone calls and two phones. This time was so hard on Travis. He faithfully visited me during the week for our hour each night. There was NO weekend visitation. That was hard. Travis actually became suicidal during this time because I would beg him to take me home and he couldn't. He tried once but they said the 72 hour hold didn't include weekends.This meant the court granted the Dr permission to keep me in spite of mine and Travis's wishes. I wasn't even suicidal. But I was delusional.
It turned into a 9 day ordeal. I became very paranoid. I did things like accuse Travis of cheating on me and accused my mom of wanting to keep me in there forever. I even ran into one of the other patients room and woke her up in the middle of the night because I thought she was dying. (She was a very old lady and I was worried about her.) That little stunt got me pulled into the main room by dragging me on the floor and holding me down to give me a shot. I was left with a giant bruise on my arm from where security grabbed me. Then I was the one who had a nurse at my door. I was put on a different medication nearly every day. I guess they thought it wasn't working. I saw more than one Pysch Dr. so each one would put me on a different med. This frustrated my family.
We would meet with the Psych Dr every day and if he thought it was time to go home he would tell you right then. So waiting for that visit every day became very stressful. I wasn't able to fool anybody this time. Every day my goal was to go home. I gave my family hell for putting me in the system where I felt like a prisoner. Finally I decided that my goal should be to get better and take advantage of the help I was getting. That was instilled in me by another patient who also had been there a while and wanted to go home. The Dr could go to the court and get an order to keep us whether we wanted to go home or not. He had me on 72 hour holds several times.
The good things about the hospital were that somebody cleaned up after us and made our beds and cooked us food. On Fridays we had pizza and popcorn. I found my clique and had made friends. I was learning about myself and my illness.
I remember that one night I had went crazy over not having my wedding rings. I said to everyone "I bet you all think I'm crazy. Just crazy Staci." And one of the ladies looked at me and said "Well we're all in here with you!!" And that stopped me in my tracks. She became a close friend of mine inside. It's weird that I actually miss a lot of the people I was in there with. I wonder how they are doing now. One guy in there thought I was a girl he went to school with and he had a major crush on me. That was weird to deal with. When Travis came to pick me up the guy was upset. He did not want me to go home.
But, on day 9 I finally got to come home. I still wasn't all better but I was functioning. They set up appointments for me at a local mental health center for psychotherapy and to meet with a new Psych Dr. I have not missed an appointment in a year. I feel like I am finally on the right track now. My stay was scary but necessary. It made me realize I DO have a problem and need medicated. Feel free to ask me any questions about my stay that I did not address.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Emotional Crisis and Little to No Help to be Found in the USA
(I wrote this in October of 2011. I get a lot of questions about how to afford medication and therapy. This was my road to being well enough to run this page and blog.) I am so sad angry right now that I can't stop crying. Is this America? I can't get anyone or any organization to help me right now and I am in crisis! I don't like to share this, but I suffer from major depression, Bipolar Disorder, and have had two psychotic episodes in my lifetime. I have been suicidal at times. I have been un-medicated for over a year, and am currently experiencing such a dramatic change and hardship in my life that suicidal thoughts are popping up. I have two young children, and they are what keep me from going through with suicide. But truly, I worry that during a psychotic episode, I may not be in the right state of mind to remember they need me. I need medicine and I need it NOW.
I have no job and no insurance. Even though I am an emotional mess right now, I have enough strength to make some calls. So first I call my Dr. who I have been seeing for 13 years. I have not been there for over a year because I moved away last year. I just moved back to my hometown area, and call to get an appointment. My last bill from them says I owe $5 and I plan on paying that during my visit. I guess that my office visit would be at most $50 and that I could get a $4 prescription from WalMart. When I call, I am told that I have an unpaid $200 bill (they sent that bill to my ex-husband so I had no idea) and they will not see me unless I set up monthly payments and come up with $80 upfront for my office visit. I have no money, so I can't do that. They say they will look into my bill issue and call me back.
My next call is to the local free/sliding fee scale clinic. They say "Sorry, we aren't taking new patients." I tell the lady that I need medicine right away and ask who else I could call. She says she doesn't really know, but try the clinic that's 20 miles away in another city.
I call the clinic that's 20 miles away and they say "The earliest we have available for new patients is 3-4 weeks away." I tell them that I really need some medicine now and they say try the local Mental Health center. At this point, I am crying. And crying. And crying. How am I supposed to be in the right state of mind to get a job and go through interviews when I am so emotional that I can't stop crying and nearly suicidal?! It took a lot of self talk to get up the gumption to make these calls and even admit that I am having a hard time and suffering from a mental illness.
The doctors office calls me back. They explain that somehow I was getting the $5 bill in my name and my ex was getting a bill that was for me but in his name. Since the services were for me, I have to pay it before they will see me. Had I known about the bill, I would have paid it when I had the money. She says try the local clinic. I tell her that they said it will be 3-4 weeks and I really need a prescription and am afraid I will go crazy before that appointment. I am so embarrassed that I am crying while I tell her this. She asks if I have anyone who can help pay for this. No, I don't. My entire family is poor. My friends are all poor. Usually, I am the one paying for their stuff. But since I just moved and have no job, I am in need. I tell her that I will figure something out and hang up.
By this time, I am desperate and afraid and remember to call 211. What a wonderful organization. They were able to sympathize with me and get me on the right track to help. When I called 211 they told me about all the local places I could get help from. 2-1-1 provides free and confidential information and referrals. Call 2-1-1 for help with food, housing, employment, health care, counseling and more. The best thing the lady did was verify that I had done all I could do and she was very caring and sympathetic. (I write the rest of this story now 2/18/13)
So I made an appointment with the free/sliding scale clinic even though I had to wait 3 weeks. I could also have gone to the ER I guess but someone I spoke to actually discouraged me from doing that because it would make my financial troubles worse because I would get a big bill. That is true, but I would rather go to the ER than die from suicide.
I don't know how but I made it the 3 weeks and went to my appointment at the clinic. My visit was free since I had no income. They prescribed me a $4 medication from WalMart. This helped for the moment, but I was only able to see a regular doctor who prescribed me Prozac for depression and lorazepam for anxiety. Less than 60 days later I was admitted to a psych ward in the hospital due to a complete mental break. I was psychotic and out of touch with reality. It makes me angry now looking back because I could have died looking for help. While in the hospital, I was seen by a psychiatrist who put me on Haloperidol after trying several other drugs with no luck. Upon release they set up appointments for me with a therapist and Psych Dr at a local mental health clinic. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to afford those visits but they were only $25 since I had no insurance. Now I see my therapist and Psych Dr. regularly. My new psych doc put me on abilify and prozac with Klonopin for anxiety. Those have been working for me. You may wonder how I afford abilify. I do so by ordering from an online pharmacy in Canada where there is a generic available. Isn't that sad?? What happened to America!? I am now connected with all of the right people, taking the right meds, and getting therapy but what a ride it was to get here. I would like to hear from other people in the USA about where and how they found help with no insurance and no money to spare. So tell me, how have you survived similar situations?? Do you know of other national organizations in the USA??
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
My Journey Thus Far - by Travis
My Journey, Thus Far
by ♜★ -Travis ★♜
My mother spent 36 hours in labor before the doctors decided to deliver me by C-section. Even at the beginning of my existence, I seemed to know that this could be a cruel, harsh world, and I did not want any part of it. Not as long as I could stay safe, hidden away in my mother’s womb, sheltered from the chaos and hardships of this existence. Sometimes I still feel that way. Hello everyone one, my name is Travis and I have Bipolar Disorder.
(Everyone in the support group chants “Hello Travis.” In either a monotone drone or an excited shriek depending on what head space they are in that day)
I’ve always wanted to start my Autobiography that way. I suppose I will have to do something worth writing about before that happens. So for now, I will have to be content to start this essay of my story for our Married And Both Bipolar blog and Facebook page.
As I said, my name is Travis. I am 38 years old. I am currently attending college online to earn my bachelor’s degree in computer science, a subject I fell in love with in high school, but drifted away from as life happened. I have been a self employed flooring installer for the last 11 ½ years. And approximately two and a half years ago, I started dating the most wonderful woman I have ever known. Staci is my rock. She helped me through my anger issues. She helped me view the world from a different vantage point. Most of all, she keeps me grounded and loves me unconditionally – something I have always craved and never received(except from my parents and siblings).
I grew up in rural Indiana. There were cornfields as far as the eye could see. My parents rented a acre plot from a local farmer on which sat our 12 x 72 metal sided mobile home. The lot also held a old, large, red barn that I was not supposed to play in, but I often did. My parents were married at the ages of 17 and 18. My mother gave birth to me at the age of 19, and my dad was one year older. I have a sister who is two and a half years younger, and a brother who is eight years younger – he was a “surprise”. Neither of them are bipolar, or have mental issues, other than my brother has a slight learning disability. I do, however, have a family history of mental illness. At least two uncles on my dad’s side have Bipolar Disorder, but my dad is “normal”. My mother also has a slight learning disability and suffers from Clinical Depression. Mental illness runs deep in her family. My maternal grandfather had Schizophrenia, and his sister entered a permanent psychosis at a young age for which she required 24/7 care. I was diagnosed with Clinical Depression at the age of 24 by my then family doctor and prescribed Prozac (the “miracle” drug of the time). I was diagnosed with Bipolar II at the age of 33.
My first real “episode” came when I was in my late teens. I called it a nervous break down at the time. It was an overpowering anxiety that left me as a basket case for a few days. Since that time I have experienced depression in the range of mild to severe and lasting as little as a day or as much as a few months. I have never had a manic episode that I can remember, although in my younger years I was occasionally subject to delusional thinking (none of which ever led to erratic behavior). I have, however, experienced my fair share of hypomania – those days, or even weeks, when I feel energized and exhilarated, and want to accomplish EVERYTHING. These also used to be the times I was most irritable and argumentative. I enjoyed the energy, but my family didn’t enjoy the hostility. My biggest complaint about my disorder, other than the severe depression that keeps me in bed, is the racing thoughts. It’s sometimes hard to “find room to breathe” in my head. When I’m up, I usually have four or five projects going at once, and when I’m down, I struggle to maintain those activities which are requirements for my very existence. In the past, I have been on Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, Lexapro, Celexa, Seroquel, Depakote, and Xanax at one time or another. I have also self medicated with alcohol and/or marijuana in the past. I wouldn’t recommend the alcohol to anyone with this disorder. Marijuana can be a great equalizer, if you live in a state where it is available as a medical prescription. I do not advocate illegal activity. I currently take Seroquel and Celexa daily before bed, and have Xanax tabs to use as needed. This combination seems to work fairly well for me, keeping my highs and lows less extreme; but not diminishing them completely.
Even at a young age it was fairly obvious that there was just something not quite right about Travis. My parents often described me as moody, irritable, melancholy, and energetic. My mother favorite phrase to describe me was, “He goes from one extreme to the other.” I’m guessing that if they had been able to afford to take me to psychiatrist I would have been diagnosed ADD. I had chronic headaches as a child. I developed rage issues at a young age, even though there were no real displays of anger in my home for me to learn it from. I am told that chronic anger is generally a learned behavior. My father once mentioned that I might possibly have a chemical imbalance in my brain, but that’s all that was said about it until I was in my twenties. I grew up in a conservative environment fostered by highly religious home. I’d say my child hood was average. My father did become mildly physically abusive to me in my teen years. I believe this was caused by a combination of me being an intensely strong willed and irritating child and him being a very young, immature, and inexperienced father.
I was an intelligent and inquisitive child. I remember seeing Algebra, for the first time, when I was 6 or 7 and wanting desperately to learn it. I always loved numbers and math (manipulating numbers). Where others struggled occasionally with mathematical concepts, it just came to me naturally, like a second language. I did well all through school, with few “incidents” and very good grades. In high school I maintained a B+/A- average without ever cracking a book and not always turning in my homework. I was accepted at Purdue University in the Computer Science department, but dropped out after the first semester so I could “live life”.
I was married, the first time, at the age of 28. She was also from a devotedly Christian family, and everyone thought it was a match made in heaven. When we made it through the first year of marriage, which everyone told us would be the hardest, I thought we were home free. When she left me in 2008, I was obliterated. There were many other issues I don’t wish to discuss here, but my diagnoses of Bipolar Disorder the year before played a large role in the ensuing divorce. I am so, so happy we did not have any children.
I was distraught. I was a broken man. During this time I questioned life. I questioned god. I questioned my existence. I spent many months cooped up in my house alone, leaving occasionally to work just enough to keep the heat and electricity on. I spent hours upon hours on introspective thought and writing. During this time I also read quite a bit, and joined Facebook. Facebook became my outlet, my friend. It helped me “re-enter” the world and self actualize. It also, eventually, was responsible Staci finding me. We had actually dated ten years prior, 2 years before I met my first wife, for a couple months, but lost touch. I like to tease her about how she broke my heart. When she friend requested me I was ecstatic.
Staci and I started dating again. She is the most kind, generous soul I know. She is highly spiritual and philosophical. I enjoy the talks we have immensely. She has a nine year old son who is amazing. I love him like my own, and am very proud of his achievements. The best part is she understands my illness and accepts me for who I am. I give this same understanding and acceptance back to her. Is this to say we never have “harsh” moments in our house? Nope. We are both bipolar after all. In the beginning my anger issues, which I’ve dealt with all my life, were a real problem for her, coming from an abusive home. I asked her to help me, and she did. She purchased the book The Cow in the Parking Lot for me, which helped immensely. I would recommend it to anyone who suffers from anger issues. Presently, mine have practically evaporated.
Staci and I have been married for just over a year and a half. Our wedding was Alice in Wonderland themed, completely conceived and arranged by us, extremely complimented by or guests, and more than anything merry and enchanted. Not only are we each bipolar, but our relationship is also bipolar. Sometimes, we are both up and competing to see who can get the most done. Sometimes, we are both down and commiserate while lying in bed in a dark room, with a blanket over the window. Much of the time, one of us is down and the other is up and trying fervently to take care of the other. It’s an adventure at our house; that much is for sure. Won’t you continue to join us as we travel even further down the rabbit hole?
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Who is online now and how are you feeling?
Who is online this evening and how are you feeling?
Travis and I had a good day overall. The only bad thing that happened was when our downstairs neighbors were screaming and arguing and their little 5 year old girl was crying. Travis got really freaked out and I did too. The fighting started to trigger me due to my own parents arguing when I was little. That was an awful feeling. As soon as we started to consider calling the police, the fighting stopped. Travis wants to write them an anonymous letter saying that next time we will call the police. That was a few hours ago. I have been feeling a little down since then. We are trying out using the blog as our means of communication with you now. Please comment on the blog and let me know how you are. Hugs and much love -Staci
Travis and I had a good day overall. The only bad thing that happened was when our downstairs neighbors were screaming and arguing and their little 5 year old girl was crying. Travis got really freaked out and I did too. The fighting started to trigger me due to my own parents arguing when I was little. That was an awful feeling. As soon as we started to consider calling the police, the fighting stopped. Travis wants to write them an anonymous letter saying that next time we will call the police. That was a few hours ago. I have been feeling a little down since then. We are trying out using the blog as our means of communication with you now. Please comment on the blog and let me know how you are. Hugs and much love -Staci
Positive Things About Bipolar
I spent an hour and a half on the treadmill today. Holy cow, Batman! I lost track of time watching YouTube videos on my Droid. Staci asked me if I could find something about the possible positive effects of having Bipolar. This is the best one I've found so far:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp9afmFFBjU
♜★ -Travis ★♜
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp9afmFFBjU
♜★ -Travis ★♜
Our day so far
Hello everyone. Facebook was down for me this morning. Was it down for you all too?? So I took a nice 2 hour nap.
It snowed overnight. Blah! I hate snow but only because of the driving conditions. Travis has been perfecting a sugar cookie/snicker doodle recipe for me. Only thing is, I didn't really like them. I had to tell him or he'd make them over and over...lol Now I feel bad though. :/
I am looking for some great photos for you all. That's pretty much what I do while Travis is doing homework or studying. Just to give you a view of our day so far and what we're doing now.
It snowed overnight. Blah! I hate snow but only because of the driving conditions. Travis has been perfecting a sugar cookie/snicker doodle recipe for me. Only thing is, I didn't really like them. I had to tell him or he'd make them over and over...lol Now I feel bad though. :/
I am looking for some great photos for you all. That's pretty much what I do while Travis is doing homework or studying. Just to give you a view of our day so far and what we're doing now.
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