Updates, robots and frostbites

2013 landed as a result of many hard changes made in the last years. 

 1. The most important change is that, in the period between my last posts and now, I changed my approach on my mental issues. I changed therapist and type of therapy, quit medications and labels. I am just a woman trying to make piece with herself. My new therapist was with me for more than a year, and used some Buddhists thoughts in his practice. What an amazing thing it is to be able to understand the present and at least to grasp the concept of abstracting yourself from the past or future's influences. The notion we have about past and future is probably wrong and created by a sick ego. I can't change anything but what I'm about to do in this instant, so why to devote energy to mistakes that are already done or situations that haven't arrived yet?

 2. I'm not in Hawai'i anymore. Back to Brazil, my homeland. I arrived in January, exactly 3 months ago. This last 3 months haven't served me to anything than to take me from my structured life and to throw me back to chaos. Here I am fighting against the emulation of my mom's own behavioral problems. Our relationship suffers with this fight. It is almost too much to bare. In Hawai'i, in the last year, I was finally able to have a good happy life. I was fulfilled with my routine, biking everywhere, hiking every weekend, learning to play cello, working out in an amazing gym. All was healthy and a reflection of myself, except with work. The workplace was amazing, but it wasn't what I planned to be doing.

 3. Something good happened last week, when I acted out on a whim. I went to Florianópolis, a beautiful city on the south of Brazil. In many ways, it reminded me of Hawai'i's life style. What attracted me the most is the combination of the beach/nature/laid-back attitude and the somewhat urban behavior that suggests Floripa is not a lost part of the world (as I felt Hawaii was). Now I'm really thinking about getting a job over there. Here's the decision to make: do you prioritize lifestyle over career promisses? Or you sacrifice yourself living in stress so that in the future you can enjoy a better lifestyle? The answer to that starts with asking yourself what a career really means.

A successful career represents reaching my full potential. Can't I reach my full potential in a quiet environment without the glory of the big companies and big salaries? Shamefully, with that question I understood that I am afraid of regretting my life, of looking back and regretting my choices. I don't want to be a sad 50-year old. Also, I don't want to be mediocre; I want to die fighting for better days. I don't want to have a life of someone that has given up.

What a revelation. I am full of prejudice and wrong ideas. Refocus, Fran, refocus. Forget the anxiety for the future and the learned fears from the past, and I'll have a clear choice: I want to enjoy life while living, to build a healthy life that is like me. There is no models; the way to do it is to adapt, provoke change, grow, and challenge my fears, all in its time, constantly, calmly. 

 4. In Floripa, another nice surprise: I rekindled a friendship from college. He was the one who makes people laugh, the "socialist", the pothead. Don't get me wrong, I was a little like that too, and most of the time that we saw each other we were surrounded by empty beer bottles. But I knew there was more to him than this; I just couldn't figure out what. I came to know a little bit more about him. He's traveled by himself to Argentina, hitchhiked and slept in a hammock strapped on a truck in the snow-cold, and lived on a green self-sustainable farm for a month. Maybe it was his careless personality, but something magical happened. I never laughed so loosely with someone that I wasn't so close. It was liberating. Our humor was smart and silly at the same time, and filled my veins with creativity. I felt I could be myself; I was not afraid.

Although the sex and laughs were out of this world, what stroke me the most about him was something more subtile: his kindness. I am fed up with guys that just can't show any feelings. Guys that come in and out of my life as does the mailman or the call center attendant: nothing is ever personal. Guys that managed the art of making sex something not personal. My friend, on the other hand, hugged me and called me pretty and locked eyes with me. I guess I felt wanted and loved, and to my surprise, I barely remembered how that felt.

He awoke my eyes to the simple concept that is someone liking me, simply, no games, no guessing. See, once someone shows you interest, then you can finally stop the guessing game. You can stop fearing that you're going to have another robottic relationship.

How surprising it was to discover that I have been holding my guard up so tightly that a moment of sympathy felt like fire warming the frostbites after a cold night in the open of the Arctic.

My history with relationships is that they hold me back. The people I once "loved" were instigating a life of convenience that was an opposite force against my dreams. So I fear my romantic feelings with the same intensity I am protective of the person I want to become.

I believe my friend and I have mutual feelings now. I also believe that, in this case, I should turn my brain off for a second and just feel.

Today is Tuesday. It means that yesterday was a hard day to get out of bed. Every Monday I succumb to a wave of low energy and willingness to avoid life. I not only avoid going to work, But I avoid thinking. I turn off my cellphone, I watch tv the whole day. I don't shower, I don't brush my teeth. And then, when the day has passed and it's time for Tuesday to welcome the morning, I know I'll have to fight to move. Literally, I get so anxious and scared of the day that I don't even move.

Well, after the morning was almost gone I finally looked at my schedule and saw that there was no way to excuse myself from my obligations today. I have to work, then go to therapy, then try to exercise, then go to work again.

I'm writing from work. It is still 1pm. I've been here for 1 hour and I already can't take it. This low energy is trying to suck me in, to drag me to the floor.
Let's see how the rest of the day works.

Ok, I need to post this. After all that day yesterday, crying at work and wanting to die, I dragged myself into the gym. The result was amazing. I was another person, happy, calling my friend, talking for one hour about future and possible changes.

My friend made me feel like myself again, because there was no preconceived judgments put on the table, just comforting and advising. No pressures, no responsibilities, just that look to our lives and what we want from it, in the big picture.

At the same time, talking to him was like having to carry alone the weight of being sick. No sharing. No excuses. No whining and asking for help. No feeling too fragile to stand up. And it was good. It is an exercise I should practice more frequently.

There are some people that are against the doctor's attitude of labeling us constantly as sick persons, because it would turn us into hopeless and desperate people. And people without hope don't seek for the strength to get better, rather, they try to commit suicide. Will A bipolar person be sick for the rest of their life?

Negativism

It's been some time since I don't write. Summarizing what happened: my new psychiatrist decided to discontinue the Zyprexa. I complained about feeling tired all the time and gaining 20 pounds in 3 - 4 months. He said he thinks the medication is too strong for me. I've been feeling great, last week specially. I exercised, I was happy. But this week it's like everything is back.

I stayed home on monday and tuesday.I just didn't want to get out. Then I got stuck. I stayed home, laying on my bed, watching tv for 48 hours. What a waste.

Then I had an argument with my boyfriend. I don't even know exactly why. He needed some time, I gave it to him. I feel like I'm too much for the ones I love to deal with. I'm a hurting machine, that keeps exhausting who dares to come close.

Again, all I say to myself is "I just want to die", wishing I had the guts. I imagine myself ingesting those pills, all at once, having a heart attack. Then I picture myself hanging from that big tree by the bus stop. I should do it. I should do it. I should do it.

My boyfriend doesn't believe in my sickness. He thinks I'm taking too long to heal. He doesn't see improvement. He's sick and pissed with all this situation. He said he needs to cure himself now. From me.

Now I'm trying to work and my mind is stuck in negativity. I start a logo, and even the first tentative is repulsing.

My life is going nowhere. That's who I am, a failure.

I wish you could see me now. There is nothing that will calm me down. I can't concentrate, and so far I wrote incessantly my last name in a piece of paper and made two small cuts on my wrist with a scissor that was near by. That does not sound good.
I keep watching the clock and 1pm just does not come. Why am I cutting myself? I'm trying to convince myself that all this is too hard. I'm trying to tell myself that I can't take 7 hours of work without collapsing. I need a break. Or do I need to hang on?

Accept yourself

Ok, after a series of missed work days, I decided to go to work today. I dragged myself. Slug again. I had a anxiety attack, called my sister, she picked me up and I went to therapy.
There I heard two very important advices.
1. Never forget to take your pills or your body will collapse.
2. Accept who you are. You are bipolar and HDAD. Period. There is nothing you can do or change in yourself that will influence this fact. It is not a matter of changing yourself, but managing this (the disease) part of your life.

I felt relief. So until now I've been working in the wrong direction? Yes, you have.

I also learned to make fun of myself. This I'll have to practice. :)

I have decided to stop for a while with my readings about the disease. I'm fed up with it. I'm tired.
I've been thinking about how I'm dealing with my life, how I'm exhausting my partner and myself. I wish I could just pretend I'm not sick.
When you are sick of something that is invisible, intangible, feels like you came up with it. Feels like it is all a great invention and the cure is just a matter of deciding not to pretend anymore.
I didn't go to work again. Two days in a roll. I feel tired, dragging myself around.
What can I do?
I talked to my mom on the phone and she described me how she feels sometime. It's just the same reactions. I need to remember that this is a disease, and this is the proof. Many people feeling the same is not a coincidence. It is not a matter of stop pretending.
My mom and my sister have been telling me about finding something to believe. I don't intend to find out if there is a god. I intend to believe in our self-suggestions, so I decided to research about meditation. On the last psychotherapy session we did a relaxation. I loved it. I makes the world stop for a second.