Hey there. Bipolaronfire, Florida Edition here. I gotta tell you, I pulled off a masterful manipulation with Dr. BigHeart at my last ECT appointment. I got him to prescribe me a stimulant (angels singing). Because I have no “Get Up And Go” in the mornings. It’s like I never quite sleep off the Clozaril/Clonazepam/Progesterone BAM BAM BAM that I do at night. So I convinced Dr. BigHeart that I needed a little kick in the morning. He prescribed Vyvanse 30 mg. Today is my first day of taking it. So far, I am still in the bed. I got up (ok woke up, I haven’t gotten up) two and a half hours ago. I still have hope that I will float off this bed and start exercising in the Florida sunshine. Actually, it’s a requirement that I’ve given myself. I WILL go to the beach today and I WILL walk and I WILL ride my roomie’s bike to the beach (it’s a killer ride) Not in that order but you get the gist, right?. I’m setting a deadline of Noon to get going, I have to go to the store to buy a bike lock and a hat to protect my poor scalp from burning. Then, off to the races! I’ll let you know how it goes. How is your November 6th going? Peaches!
My favorite meditation on my Deepak Chopra Living in Love app on my iphone is called “I Choose Love.” That is the mantra that is repeated throughout the meditation. Most of the time when I’m meditating, my mind is just wandering around the universe, wondering if I have any yogurt in the refrigerator? Did I forget to pick up a prescription at Walgreens? Is it time to get a new pedicure? If so, what color?
For the first time today when I was meditating, I was actually able to focus on and experience the mantra “I Choose Love.” A chill went through my body as I realized that when it comes to Love, my cup runneth over. I am so incredibly blessed with this huge, and hugely supportive family of parents, brothers, sisters, brother and sister-in-laws, and dearly precious nieces and nephews, not to mention cousins, aunts, uncles, and some very rockin’ friends. I am blessed and I am grateful.
In my last post I mentioned that my ECT doc suggested that I may need to do ECT once a week for life. In talking to my therapist about it, she thought that notion was completely ridiculous (thank you therapist!!) and she also pointed out that there is a BOATLOAD of evidence showing that meditation, yoga and exercise help create new neural pathways in the brain, and they all strongly aid in the reduction of depressive symptoms. So, I’ve decided to keep up with the daily meditation, yoga, exercise, and supplement taking (as well as psychiatric meds) and I called and cancelled Friday’s ECT appointment.
I choose LOVE, including self-love (no I’m not talking about masturbating) as my primary treatment for depression. I believe!! Click here for my favorite most uplifting song regarding believing. I’m no bible thumper (you may have noticed my fantastically foul mouth) but one thing I really DO love is gospel music. I love to sing it too!! It can really spank my mood into submission.
On a totally unrelated note (hold on, I’m hitting the brakes so I can flip a bitch!) I am going to the Broncos game tomorrow!!! I am SO EXCITED and I pray that we smash Seattle into the ground!! GO BRONCOS!!!!! I’ll see ya on the flipside. PEACHES!!
I had an unfortunate meeting with Dr. BigHeart last week. So much so that I am rethinking his name, thinking that maybe “Dr. Ka-ching!” may be more appropriate. Whereas I used to believe he had my best interests in mind, I am now questioning if it’s all about keeping me coming back for more and more ECT. He actually said that it was a feasible and rational idea that I might have to do ECT every week for the rest of my life!!!!!! This about made me fall out of the bed, then he continued to tell me that I will NEVER go back to my “Professional” life and that this is as good as it gets. If I accepted what he said, I would have been devastated. However, I believe that he is one hundred percent full of shit, and I don’t believe I want to be receiving care from someone who holds out so little hope for me. It HAS to get better than this!!! The depression HAS to lift!!! I MUST have hope of going back to work some day!!! Granted, I do not want to go back to work in the IT field, I am totally burned out on it. But there has to be SOMETHING I can do!! I have a fucking college degree! I’m trainable!! I’m not ready for lifetime disability!!! That just sounds too much like giving up. And I REFUSE to give up! I am going to keep doing this fucking meditation and keep doing this goddamn yoga and keep doing this daily exercise and I’M GOING TO GET BETTER!!!!!! Just watch me.
Some of the action taken yesterday was riding my bike, which I haven’t done since I moved here last October. Riding my bike involved 1) Finding the air pump 2) Airing up the tires 3) Finding my helmet 4) Packing a backpack with my “good” camera and a couple of bottles of water 5) Getting my ass on the bike and GOING! I ran into several difficulties with the execution of my plan. My tires were too low for me to fill them up with a little hand-pump. I had to fold the seats down in my vehicle and shove the bike in and take it to the gas station to air the tires up with the air machine. THEN I couldn’t get to the air machine because the pavement had just been re-paved and was completely closed off. Doh! So I had to drive to the next town to find a gas station and an air machine, finally airing up the tires. How much air pressure should bike tires have, I wondered. I went with 60 psi. So far they haven’t blown up.
At long last, I got home, got the bike out and got going. And look at these sweet, sweet sweeties I went to see! Four little foals and their mommies!! I just snapped and snapped. Takes me back to my childhood, when I lived next door to a horse ranch. Horses smell so good!!! What a reward for getting my shit in gear!!
Then I travelled down the road to a place called Walden Ponds and saw the first pelicans of the season. Again I was treated to the delicious smells of the country. If you grew up in the country, you know how good it smells. Earth and growing things and I don’t know what else.
The final leg of my bike tour was the ride home, which was almost all uphill. I am NOT in great shape. I have been struggling through The Bar Method once or twice per week and walking as much as possible, but I have gained a lot of weight thanks to the Clozaril. Anyhoo, I promised myself that 1) I wouldn’t beat up on myself regarding my physical condition; and 2) That I wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard it got. So I let myself be o.k. with going slow, and downshifting, and I drank in the beautiful scenery. The fields are so green, the creeks are so full, there are birds flying everywhere, the sky is blue, and Spring has definitely sprung. It was a really hard bike ride home, but I kept telling myself, out loud, “You can do it!” and I DID IT!!! That feels good. Just day by day, I will work on my physical fitness, and enjoy this beautiful place where I live. Yeah.
So I took my walking machine out for a walk. I call my body My Walking Machine. When it’s going well I say “You’re a GOOD little walking machine” and when it’s not going so well I say “Come ON, walking machine, you can do this!” I use this very anal app called Runkeeper.com and this snotty bitch tells you every five minutes how far you’ve walked (or run, or cycled, or hiked), and what your pace is. I HATE how JUDGMENTAL she is!! So I am always trying to get my walking machine to pick up the pace. Today my walking machine did three miles at about 16.5 minutes per mile. Don’t hate. I did it. What I really wanted to do was go back to bed for more lazy Sunday napping. Just one small triumph for one very low-functioning frontal-lobed walking machine. Peaches.