Thoughts on relationships and my mental illnesses

Mental illnesses report:
My last post got me thinking about marginally-related things. I had a “best friend,” OC people will know who I mean, who constantly put me down and insulted me since the early 90s. But I didn’t tell her to piss off until 2011 because I always figured if I got rid of her, I wouldn’t be able to make new friends. And I suppose I made a couple, but not many I have been very close to.

Regarding boyfriends, there was the guy I met in the mental hospital when I was in high school, but, in addition to the fact that, the more I got to know him, the less I liked him, and that I only saw him a couple times a year, and that he was an alcoholic, he was cheating on me the entire time. In fact, I was so aware of this I’m hesitant to call it “cheating,” more like an unspoken open relationship, but only open on one side. But I stayed with him for several years because (as a parallel to the “best friend” situation) I figured if I got rid of him, I’d never find another boyfriend. [And I was right.] He occasionally re-friends me on Facebook and then unfriends me if I don’t reply to his messages immediately. One time his wife started sending me nasty messages, apparently thinking I was the one who friended him.

Eventually though, I figured that if I didn’t have a bf/gf and didn’t have friends, I could deal with that, and that it would be better than having the BF and [some of] the friends I had. There were times back then that I wished I had people to talk to about things but then I started writing a journal again and that helped and I more or less got over the emotional need to have other people around and to talk to people (most of the time when I tried to talk to people about anything emotionally-related in the past, I felt ignored or was quite blatantly ignored anyway, so talking to people never seemed to help). I got new hobbies, exercised compulsively, learned some new languages, etc. And I suppose some people have offered to listen, but I think I am so emotionally closed off that I am unable to have a dialogue about myself, I can only make posts which are written as a monologue. Possibly also why I’ve never really been able to open up to therapists; they are another person in the room who might potentially say something and that scares the shit out of me and I go mute.

Eventually I was on enough medication that my emotional state was completely numbed to the extent that nothing bothered me, so it was quite traumatic for me when that numbness disappeared recently and I am still working through that. Posting on FB helps. If my posts bother you, though, I ask that you unfriend me rather than just hiding my posts from your timeline (assuming anyone who wants to hide my posts from their timeline would actually be reading this, of course). I really don’t mind it when people unfriend me here. I think it is possible that, with a change of medication or a reduction of medication, my problematic emotional states will resolve or become more stable. In the meantime, I will probably continue the posts because, as stated before, this helps me to organize my thoughts.

I wish I didn’t have a sex drive

[Forum post plus some discussion from other people]

I’m not sure where I am at. I’m comfortable for now not talking to people in real life. I no longer get the urge to. There was a time when, if I felt bad or whatever, I would have an urge to talk to people in real life and have a conversation. That’s gone now.

Mainly these days I just wish my sex drive would go away. It’s especially upsetting because, due to medications, I thought it had gone away forever and I was very disappointed and disturbed when it came back (common symptom of bipolar mania: “hypersexuality”).

Here’s your TMI for the day:

Despite, after many years, getting over the Catholic guilt concerning masturbation, it doesn’t really help me much because (1) it seems a bit second-rate, and (2) it occasionally makes me cry, which makes it especially unpleasant and unhelpful. It’s not that I’m not good at it, I think I’m pretty good at it, it just seems like I’m lacking something I guess. It has diminished slightly since the psychotic episode last summer, though, but it’s still there.

So, not really sure where to go with that. If you’re horny and haven’t had any success having sex with other people, masturbation would be the obvious way to go, but it doesn’t seem to help me much. I guess I’m just waiting for menopause now because it’s my understanding that that can help to diminish sex drive.

I used to abuse drugs and alcohol very heavily to reduce or eliminate my sex drive, but it’s my understanding that that isn’t necessarily a healthy thing to do, either.

I don’t have any real hopes of ever being in a real relationship (I assume that would potentially be helpful with the sex drive), because, after 17 years or so, I have gotten discouraged by being rejected by everyone I ever attempted to initiate a relationship with and either (1) I am just not attractive to people in that way, or (2) I am doing something very wrong and I can’t fix it because I don’t know what I’ve been doing wrong.

There has never been a time where someone wanted to start something up with you, where they initiated the potential relationship?

No. I mean, not since like 1996, and he was cheating on me since the very beginning. So I always figured it was up to me to make the first move, but that always ended up leading to rejection and/or losing friends. I don’t think I’m creepy or anything, and the most I ever did was suggest that me and another person hang out (alone, without other friends), and I never even got that far* with people I normally hung out with (around other people), I would either be told they weren’t interested or they’d agree to hang out or go somewhere and then never show up, and then never talk to me again because apparently that made it weird. I also never considered myself anything worse than average looking, so I don’t think that’s it, and I had great tits in college.

*Not counting some drunken messing around with some women when i was 18 or 19, but that was more in the realm of 1 night stands and not potential relationships.

On involuntary celibacy

[This was a discussion of a post on Facebook which I can’t find to quote right not]

It’s interesting to read people’s thoughts on this; this guy is obviously angry. The culture in general is often judgmental toward people who don’t have sex, though, which probably doesn’t help and just causes more hatred and lashing out.

I disagree that it’s a male problem, though. I mean, I tried during the entirely of my 20s to have sex and relationships without any success at all (haven’t even kissed anyone since I was a teenager, probably wouldn’t remember how; by the time I was in my 30s I’d given up), and I do get resentful when people suggest that any woman can just go out and get all the sex she wants, whenever she wants, just because she has a vagina.

I do think discussion is helpful though. People can get really uncomfortable if you start talking about anything other than a normal sex life. I think there is some overlap with the way people respond to people talking about mental illness, many people don’t know how to deal with the discussion and try to avoid it, but I think talking about it helps people understand each other and should be encouraged. I also refuse to censor what I say regarding things like mental illness and sex to make the people around me comfortable, because (1) no one has the right to never be upset, and (2) if other people can talk about sex and relationships and that’s socially ok, I feel like I should be able to talk about what it’s like to not have those things.

I got irrationally upset one time when I was talking about a back tattoo I considered getting and some guy said guys would appreciate it. I said no guys other than my dermatologist ever see my naked back! (I have several tattoos no one has ever seen, for that matter.) And I realize now I was just lashing out because he just assumed I had sex with people because most people do and I shouldn’t have gotten angry with him.
Also probably why it bothers me if people ask if I have children. I never had a chance to make a decision to have children or not. As a kid, I always said I didn’t want any, but that’s not the same thing and thinking it over and being able to decide on the matter.

The worst thing about being bipolar and having severe mania at times is having a sex drive, for me, anyway. It’s the most unpleasant and unwanted symptom, and harder to deal with even than suicidal thoughts, which I also have a lot of while manic. The only good thing about the medication induced depression I was in for several years there, IMO, was complete lack of a sex drive. I thought maybe it would stay that way forever.

Mental illnesses report, Jan 25

It has been several months now since the bad chemicals in my head have changed their configuration. It might be not quite perfect to refer to things as only mania and depression, but that’s the best vocabulary I have at the moment. Sometimes I’m on, sometimes I’m off. I’ve been on nonstop since last August, and it’s beginning to wear on me.
I find it kind of funny, though; I spent the whole time I was depressed wishing I was manic, and now that I am, I’ve actually found myself longing for the depression. I know I don’t really want that, either, though.

This is greatly complicated by the medications I am on. I am convinced that there is little hope of psych drugs stabilizing my moods. I have tried that, and with fucking disastrous results (nearly hospitalized once) and no psychological changes. I don’t like therapy and I don’t feel like it helps me or has ever helped me or ever will. And it was costing me hundreds of dollars a month. I feel like my problem, other than the obvious bipolar disorder, is that it is complicated by the medications (corticosteroids), which exascerbate it and make it sort of unbearable, except for short periods of time when I am falling down drunk or engaging in ebay/amazon “retail therapy” (lol), which is to say, obsessively buying shit and then obsessively organizing and reorganizing the same shit. Books are nice, too. Started writing again and have been drawing more. If I can’t sleep, I have about 50 books of classical sheet music, and I do enjoy just kind of zoning out and playing some Beethoven on the piano. It is almost relaxing.

I could function more or less like a human before the prednisone. With the prednisone, I am barely holding my shit together. The depression sounds nice just because it seems like a very stable, calm, Vulcan-like state, but while depressed, I really I am just completely numb, apathetic, can’t enjoy anything, and am vaguely sick of being alive. While manic, I can be irritable, I can start raging or crying at any time, for any reason, or for no reason at all, I alternate between extreme egomania and something like a post-Catholicism super-masochistic martyrdom complex, but I am very productive and when I enjoy shit, I enjoy shit a lot. So there are good and bad points.

I have tried probably dozens of drugs over the years (talking about psych meds here) and nothing ever had any positive impact on me. Most of the time there was no change at all, and if there was, it was something unpleasant like an allergic rash (depakote) or constant diarrhea for months on end (prozac), or the zombie-like state I was in when they had me on anti-psychotics in the late ’90s.

I have given up on being stable. Part of me enjoys being unstable, just not *this* fucking unstable. So I am just hoping I can reduce the corticosteroids, maybe find something else that works, and at least get to the point where, if necessary, I can more or less pass as a human for short periods of time. I’m not there at this point, I’m more like a very volatile walking pharmacy/toxic waste dump.

Obsessiveness and language learning, etc.

I think the reason I stopped therapy was mostly that (1) I considered hypomania much better than the state I was in before a couple months ago, and (2) I am afraid that any treatment to “stabilize my moods” is going to put me closer to the aforementioned state, which is my worst fear at the moment. As for things like coping strategies or whatever, I feel like if any coping strategies were going to work with me, they would have worked at some time in the past 25 years. I’d been contemplating quitting therapy for at least 6 months before I actually did.

That being said, I’m still very far from stable and I just feel like I need to regain some self-discipline. I will, on occasion, get very, very fucking angry over some stupid shit. Today it was because someone claimed a translation project I wanted, and I screamed a long string of profanity (not even muttered under my breath, I mean I fucking screamed “fuck” about 20 times) and nearly put my hand through my wooden desk. Glad I work from home, haha. On a serious note, though, I need to not do anything that could potentially injure my hands, because they’re sort of important to me considering they’re what I use to work. But that’s where the desired self-control comes in, I suppose. It feels good to be angry though; it’s much nicer than the sort of void I was in before. People could have pissed me off in any conceivable way then, and I wouldn’t care, because I didn’t give a shit if I was alive or dead. Now I just sort of randomly rage about stupid shit. That’s one of the things that drove me to compulsive exercising when I was in college though, in addition to projects like a video game thing that I spend untold hours/months/years coding. It gave me something to do with the extra energy. Same with when I’d buy German grammar books 15 years ago when I didn’t know any German, never took any classes, and I was like goddamnit I am going to do every exercise in these books until I understand German. And so I did, 8 hours a day sometimes. That’s why I bought the piano. I’ve completely forgotten how to read bass clef, which is really weird because I can still read treble clef and the last time I actually had to read music when when I played trombone, which was bass clef. So my right hand knows what to do and my left hand just hovers stupidly in mid-air. I’m sure it’ll come back to me. I also cut up a bunch of pieces of watercolor paper (I have a gigantic roll of it) to do some paintings to try to sell. I had some bad BDD-related moments because if I was going to work a self-portrait in there, I had to take pictures of myself (the angles are too weird for a mirror), but it didn’t bother me that bad. I don’t even have a state ID, I haven’t since 2007, because I don’t want to have to have my photo taken. The Cushing’s syndrome is a big part of that, but it existed long before the Cushing’s. Will probably do a couple more serial killer paintings just because people buy them on there, but I’m bored to death of doing them.

Another cousin died

I thought it fit here, too, though I mentioned elsewhere that I just lost another relative (cousin) more or less to mental illness; he was on a lot of meds and also self-medicated with alcohol thanks to bipolar disorder. They found him unconscious a couple days ago, just died in the hospital yesterday though. I think his whole family has been fucked up by the death of his brother in ’02 still, I mean, even more so than a death in the family usually seems to fuck people up, which is a lot. The uncle has been severely depressed for a very long time now.

I’m the same as I’ve been. I’m curious as to what my regular doctor will say on Thursday, as well as how much of the truth I will tell her. I imagine my retelling of the past couple months to her will be something like “Yeah, been eating better, stopped drinking soda, lost 40 lbs, exercising more” when the reality of the matter is a bit different and involves starvation, binge drinking, sleep deprivation, and drug abuse. In addition to exercising and not drinking pepsi (unless I need a mixer for rum).

I’ll normalize a bit eventually. Still extremely unstable, and the cousin dying isn’t helping matters, though I haven’t been extremely close to that part of the family because of how far away they’ve lived my entire life.

Left the house today

Managed to leave the house socially for the first time in .. I dunno… maybe the first time this entire year. It was really nice to hang out with two friends I’ve known since high school or earlier, they are now dating each other and have moved into a new house. We talked a lot, drank a lot, smoked an entire pack of Marlboros in >12 hours (I only smoke blu e-cigs and not real cigs anymore, so that is uncharacteristic). I thought my bad habits were finally catching up to me a while ago, tired and shaky and headache, but then I realized it was just low blood sugar and could be correctly easily with a bit of candy or sugary beverages.

Because discussion of mental illness tends to eventually lead to discussion of sex, the one asked me to clarify what my sexual orientation actually is. I think the only constant is that while in a depressive episode, I don’t think I have one; and while manic, it changes every five minutes and I’m not sure it’s actually relevant anyways since various issues prevent me from actually acting on it. I answered the question anyway, because it’s easy to understand why people might have no idea and/or be confused about what my orientation might be. They kept offering food despite the fact I had been telling them I’m having huge troubles eating most food. I ended up eating a bit of garlic bread.

Other than that, I have not taken any recreational drugs at all today. Whoo. I also ate a whole grilled chicken breast and half a yogurt today.

Worrying about not being in a depressed episode anymore

For the past 8 years or so, I had an incredible fear that, if I ever were to *not* be in a depressive episode again, that is, if I were to either be manic or in some vaguely normal state, that everything I ever refused to deal with would sort of hit me over the head at once. All sorts of denial, repression, and just refusal to think about shit, and that all of this would sort of incapacitate me in some way. I feel like I’ve failed as a human being. But as it is, it sorts of trickles into my consciousness slowly, here and there. Life still seems nightmarish but in a very different way. I sort of went from a tendency toward being apathetic and sober to being very energetic and volatile and that clashes so much with my self-image that I still am unable to integrate into human society in any sort of meaningful way that doesn’t seem nightmarish to me. And it’s probably true to an extent that I avoid people because I don’t like seeing happy, well-adjusted people because that hurts me, and I am not exactly sure how to improve my situation. Also, because I take a stupid amount of pride in attempting to be an island and to withdraw from all human contact.

I don’t think there is much chance of me enjoying being around people, not as long as I live in this place, no. I have given up on that.

Anyway, I was not prepared for a huge personality shift at this time and it will take me a while to adjust, that’s all.

I’m just not good with people. And any time I am around people I can’t quite shake the feeling that I am wasting my time. I just had a brief moment of weakness and cried myself to sleep last night.

Now that I have some energy I would like to paint more, get some more decent portfolio pieces together, apply for other types of jobs.

When I was still in therapy, I sometimes complained about not having emotions, and I’d say that certain things are objectively shitty in my life and I should feel sad. He told me I shouldn’t complain about NOT feeling bad. I still completely fucking disagree. Feeling awful and going to bed crying every night is 100x better than how I was before. It was just complete emptiness and not caring about anything, not caring if I was alive or dead, and that fucking terrified me because it bore absolutely no resemblance to being alive.

Still having trouble sleeping and eating and spend most of my waking hours (and there a lot of them) struggling in one way or another. And because I have this bottle of 151 I started drinking before 8:00 this morning, which I think counts as an ill-advised attempt at self-medication. But as I said, it’s better than before. At least I feel like I’m alive. I’m sure my old self-discipline will come back to me eventually and I’ll level off a bit.

Mostly it just seems like I am in hell. Part of this hell is of my own making, and the rest is due to circumstances beyond my control. And part of it is I was in such a severe depression for 8 years that I accomplished pretty much nothing at all. I don’t see many good things in my future, certainly not in the near future. Also, fuck my life.

Someone assumed I was depressed and I had to tell him I am not; I am most definitely extremely manic. I’m just not in the mildly psychotic euphoric mania state that I was in when this all began. But as I said, bipolar depression can apparently have a lot of differences from regular depression. Personally anyway, when in a legitimate depressed state, I do not and cannot feel sad, I do not cry, etc.; I’m just very apathetic and rather grim. In a dysphoric manic state (which, so far as I can recall, is the state in which I’ve lived most of my life) everything just seems rather sad and nightmarish, but in kind of a beautiful way. Also obvious signs I’m still manic: still can barely eat or sleep, still have headphones on 20 hours a day, still making idiotic purchases on ebay, crying myself to sleep for no particular reason, obsessively exercising to get rid of excess energy, racing thoughts, and so on.

Forum discussion concerning manic episode

(This is a conversation on a forum)

Keep in mind we are not so unique as we think or wish. Specialists can help you because what you have thousands of people have too (with smooth variations).

The problem with the therapists and psychiatrists I have seen is that there is apparently nothing in the medical literature that fits me. I may have mostly focused on the bipolar here, but it is combined with the psychological symptoms of long-term corticosteroid use and a possible personality disorder. They’ve tried various meds over the years and basically told me they don’t know WTF else to do. Also, to see a new psychiatrist around here, there is a waiting list of about a year or more. I’m not willing to wait a year. Also, I decided I just can’t afford any more specialists. I have a lot of health problems, I go to a lot of specialists.

If I have to guess, I would say you need psychologists and psychiatrist as well, you probably have some “physical” problem (or real problem if you prefer)

I’m pretty sure bipolar disorder is a real physical problem, but I know what you mean. I am on a lot of very powerful drugs for my skin and my hormonal problems. These are being taken care of by appropriate specialists.

But again, I largely enjoyed the time I spent going to the therapist. I saw the same one for almost 2 years, I think. I learned many new things. And we talked about mania quite a bit, and he acknowledged and accepted the fact that many manic people do not want and will actively reject treatment. I am one such person. He knew that.

You may be reading back too far in my posts, my acute mania only lasted a few days. I am quite functional now and able to eat food. The food was my only main concern. I don’t even need to be functional around people because I am rarely around people. But if I were around people, I would be quite ok.

Thinking back, I have only have two states, and this is the state in which I am able to function better. It’s kind of a “lust for life” rather than a “lust for death” kind of thing.

May I say one thing is working form me: get out of myself more times: think about other people, trying to help and be useful.

Yeah, that’s what I do while manic: I am nice to people, I help people, people enjoy being around me (opposite is true while depressed). As far as I am concerned, especially now that I am eating again, I am ok, I am functional, I am motivated, etc. That is, I am close to “well” as I have ever been or probably ever will be.

I don’t want a solution. I feel fucking fantastic.

Nah, I’m eating now. I’m not hungry, but I do force myself to eat a few bites of things here and there.

In my opinion, the problem is not how I am now, it’s how I was for the past 8 years.

Manic episode and I stopped seeing my therapist

I decided to stop seeing my therapist as of yesterday. I went last Thursday, I had been going every three weeks since I got the current insurance, and every week before that (I was on Medicaid). I am tremendously bad at talking about myself. If indeed I have any issues which could be helped by therapy (and things like personality disorders can’t be treated), I am unable to talk about them to my therapist or anyone else. In fact, it weirds me out when people say to me “you can talk to me.” No, I can’t. And if I could, I doubt it would make me feel better.

That being said, I am in the most manic of manic phases right now. Can’t eat, can’t sleep. Have developed a borderline-psychotic obsession with Elton John and listen to him about 20 hours a day (this happened about 15 years ago with David Bowie). I was reading Oliver Sacks’ book “musicophilia” and a lot of that makes sense to me, the idea of drugs (and/or imbalances in neurotransmitters, mental illness, etc.) causing either obsession with or aversion to music. I couldn’t listen to any music at all for about 6 months there, which was upsetting because I was trying to do another issue of my [black metal] zine. I couldn’t review albums, I couldn’t do interviews with bands because I didn’t give a fuck about them and I can’t fake it. If I don’t care about the bands I’m interviewing it’s gonna come through in my interview questions. Last psychotic obsession I had was not music though, it was Star Trek, which I hadn’t watched in 15 years or so, and I actually went through and watched every episode of every Star Trek series except Voyager, which bored me so much I made it halfway through that show. I have been being quite productive though, so there’s that. It’s also likely that, if this keeps up, I will manage to lose the weight I gained from the prednisone. This could also help my BDD. I haven’t been able to look in a mirror for years really and I don’t allow people to take my photo.

I’m also pretty sure my typing speed has goddamn near doubled.

That being said, at least one of my [past] therapists had doubts about my bipolar diagnosis because my manic episodes lasted so long (years, in some cases) so it could just be sort of intermittent mania. The depression could just be explained by prednisone, but it has been pretty crushing. The skin condition (especially the pain from it), among other things, has made me contemplate ending my own life on numerous occasions. I’m at pretty much the opposite end of that spectrum right now. If I had more money, or less debt, life would be good.

I never manage to leave the house, though. I think the only reason I used to was because I was in college and/or had roommates who would tell me to go places with them. Left to my own devices, I’m pretty much an island, socially. I hang out here and talk to a few people on facebook but I have no desire for any type of real life interaction with humans. I take walks with the dogs at night, and go to the store if I need something, and that’s about it.

But going back to the topic of aversions, I find I can’t watch movies anymore either, and I think that’s somehow related to meds or something. I used to watch a film every single day. When I started up my horror movie review website back in 1999, I actually would rent enough movies on VHS that I could review a film every day of the week. Now I just watch true crime shit.

Anyway, that’s the problem with mania. You’re nuts and you don’t want help because being nuts can be enjoyable.

I stopped taking my BP meds a while ago (the steroids cause HBP) so if I end up dying of a heart attack, that’s why. They gave me heart palpitations every time I laid down. Started taking an aspirin in the mornings though. The blood pressure only gets high when the prednisone dose is increased though, like higher than 10mg/day.

ETA: The last time I had a really outstanding manic phase I would spend 6+ hours per day exercising. that was maybe 10 years ago. Exercise just became the most enjoyable thing in the world. I have been doing a lot of pushups and spending time on the exercise bike this week, but not nearly to the same extent.