My Story Isn't Over Yet;

I have been so overwhelmed with working one job, training for another, finishing up my online math class, and a million other things that I decided to take a break from my blog.  So, I had my brilliant and wonderful mother write the blog post this week.  I absolutely refuse to skip a Thursday!

 

When Philip asked me to do his last blog post of the month, I thought, no problem. This is Mental Health Awareness month. I have soooo much I could share, but therein lay the problem. I have TOO much for a single blog post. So after debating all week over what I should write, allow me to share with you a single day in the life of someone with bipolar disorder.

Morning can be a struggle, even on sunny days. I fight with pain issues on a regular basis, but add just a little bit of depression to that, and some days I can hardly move. My limbs feel like lead weights, my eyes don't want to open and see the reality of a new day. I don't work, so often I feel totally useless as well. Why bother getting out of bed? Not a problem if I'm hypo(manic). I jump out of bed and rush around not getting hardly anything accomplished in my hyper disorganization. But there are some things that MUST be done. Having to force yourself to do the basics can be very discouraging.

Get up, get dressed, eat and TAKE YOUR MEDS. No matter how horrible you feel, no matter how scattered your thoughts, nothing will make it worse than not taking your meds. If nothing else gets done all day, you must take your meds. A regular (healthy) eating and sleeping schedule can help moderate your symptoms. But we all know that eating healthy is tough when the meds that are supposed to be helping you slow your metabolism and make you crave everything you shouldn't eat. I gained 90 pounds in a year on two meds that I have since insisted be changed. It's difficult to motivate yourself to take medications that put you at risk for heart disease and diabetes. Talk to you doctor. There are other meds to try. We finally got it right the third time around.

I have set up for myself a routine of what needs to be done during the course of the day. For me it's: dishes, laundry, plan/cook dinner, volunteer work I do on the computer (this is what gives me a sense of purpose.) In the spring and summer I also tend the garden. If I'm feeling good I will try to do some other additional housework, or maybe even go out in public. I must be very cautious with my moods and shopping. It is always best to have another person with me when I go to JoAnn Fabrics, or I might spend way too much money. Over time I have become much better about controlling my spending, but it can still be a fight.

A note about leaving the house. When depressed, I can barely get dressed, so going out is not likely. When I'm hypomanic, I want to go out and be with people and do things, but I have a constant fear of annoying them with my incessant jabbering or being inappropriate in some way. Saying the wrong thing, being arrogant, angry or judgmental. Being aware of these things helps me keep these rotten behaviors in check, but sometimes they still get the best of me. So I get embarrassed, and don't want to be around people. My meds make me air-headed and shaky, so that can be a bit awkward in publc.

There is one big thing that helps me get through the day. My dog. If you don't have a comfort animal, you don't know the benefit you can reap from their presence. My comfort animal is a two year old Australian Shepherd/Golden Retriever mix named River Song. She is very sweet and soft and cuddly, and she can make the stress ease away. Dogs love you no matter what. She calms me through tears, shaking, and uncontrollable racing thoughts. When mixed states threaten to rip me in half, River can cuddle up and ease the pain. A black cat serves as a comfort animal for one of my children.

By the time evening runs around I am often emotionally exhausted, though usually it's more physical. I try to get dinner on the table by six for my husband, succeeding some days, failing on others. If I have been having severe racing thoughts during the course of the day, nothing gets done. There are too many voices talking in my head, leaving me constantly confused. If I'm hypo I may start several projects but not finish them, adding to the mess that is my house. This is another area where I can see improvement, but it can still be a problem.

It is with great relief that my bedtime rolls around. I have a small snack and take my night-time meds. If the racing thoughts will let me, I fall asleep fairly quickly. But whether I sleep well or not, the next day I will have to face the chaos I left the day before.

A couple other thoughts. My bipolar treatment interferes with my pain treatments, so we have to balance the two problems and the medications I take. Not fun. Also, if you really want to know what bipolar can be like, read A Brilliant Madness by Patty Duke. It's terrifying, but so informative. It really helped me to see how bipolar was effecting me everyday, and thus allowed me to be on guard for when symptoms popped up. Recognizing symptoms, plus my meds, plus my wonderful supportive family (including the dog) have helped me function at almost a normal level. You can feel like yourself. As for me, my story isn't over yet;

Recycled Post

This is probably cheating, but I don't care.  This is a post from my photography blog that I absolutely love!  I still occasionally look at the pictures and think, Wow!  I took these?  So here is the link:

http://perfectkaptures.blogspot.com/2014/05/mental-health-awareness.html

Enjoy!

Anxiety: A Short Story

It is finished.  After months of waiting, the time has finally come.  I call in the Patient.  The Patient walks into the room, slowly, timidly.  A young male, exhaustion evident in its eyes.  The Patient takes a seat next to the table, taking in its surroundings.  It catches sight of the button on the table.
"Panic?" it says.  "Is this some kind of a joke?"
I smile.  "Let's get started, shall we?"
"What's going to happen?" the Patient asks.  "Why am I here?"
"Just for a little test," I reply.
"Will my fears go away?" asks the Patient.  "Will I be Re-established?"
"I'm afraid not," I say.  "You are a threat to society and to yourself.  Your weakness will be your downfall.  This test will not cure you, but it will help us better understand what you feel.  Let us begin."
I push the button.

I wake up in my bed, the birds singing sweetly outside my window.  The sun is shining through the white curtains.  I don't remember going to bed last night.  In fact, I don't remember anything.  Not to worry, I assure myself.  I probably just took one too many sleeping pills last night.  It'll wear off soon.
A knock at the door.  My body tenses.  Who could it be?  I hesitate a moment before heading for the door.  I open the door to find a young boy.
"What is it?" I ask.  "Shouldn't you be in school?"
The boy looks up at me with sad green eyes.  When he speaks, his voice is small and quiet.  "You forgot, didn't you?" the boy asks.  He beckons me to lean forward, as if to whisper in my ear.  He taps me on the shoulder, turns around, and walks off.
That was strange, I think.  Probably just a little prankster, sent to my door on a dare.  Still, I can't help but notice that my mood has changed.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but something inside me feels different.
I make myself a hot drink to help calm my mind.  I soon forget about the boy, distracted by my thoughts.  I have a case report due today.  I need to go to the post office before heading to the office.  I should pick up some dish soap on the way home.  I finish getting ready to go.
As I step out the door, I am overwhelmed by the sounds of traffic and people's voices.  Again, something inside me doesn't quite feel right.  I begin my quarter mile walk to the post office.
"Excuse me," comes a voice behind me.  I turn to find a woman staring in my direction.  She is dressed as though she is headed to a fancy party.  "You dropped this."  She holds something out in front of her.  It is my credit card.  I reach for her hand.  She moves to the left ever so slightly and taps me on the shoulder.  She then turns and walks away, my card still in her hands.  I just stand there, a strange feeling in my gut.  I begin to sweat.  My body tenses.  Why am I not chasing after her? I wonder.  I can feel my heart racing.
I turn around, looking for someone to help me.  But I forget why I need help.  I shake my head.  "I need some coffee," I say aloud.  I walk over to the nearest café and order a cappuccino.  When I open my wallet, I find that my credit card is missing.  My mind starts racing.
Where did it go?
What happens now?
I look like an idiot.
What if all my money is already gone?
"Are you alright?" asks the man waiting behind me, tapping me on the shoulder.  I jump, startled.  It feels as though a weight has been put on my shoulders.  In fact, now that I think about it, it seems as though my shoulders have been getting heavier and heavier all morning.  My body is so tense it becomes difficult to stand.  I rush out of the café, breathing fast.  I take in my surroundings.  Why is everyone staring at me?  Where did all these people come from?  Someone taps me on the shoulder.  I turn to find who did it.  Someone else taps me on the shoulder, followed by another tap, then another, the weight on my shoulders getting heavier with every touch.  I crouch down to the ground.  I think I'm screaming.  I close my eyes and let the fear overwhelm me.  In my mind I can see all the laughing faces.  I can see my regrets.  I can see my future crumbling away into nothing.  And then...

...I wake up.  The first thing I see is the Patient.  And he is smiling.

A Mental Note

Nothing irks me more than when people blame things on a mental disorder.  "I made this choice because I have a mental illness."  No.  You made that choice because there was a choice to be made.  As you may recall from a previous post (I Am Not My Body), you are not defined by your mental health problems.  You define yourself.
Having grown up with severe social anxiety, I know what it is like to make choices based on my feelings.  And I regret a lot of the choices I made.  I was too scared to do things that I probably would have enjoyed.  But I didn't make my choices because of my anxiety.  The anxiety certainly influenced my choices.  Now, as an adult, I still struggle a lot with my anxiety.  But I push myself out of my comfort zone.  I want to experience life, even if my brain doesn't.  I fight my anxiety.
Which is why certain illnesses becoming mainstream really confuses me.  All this talk about gender dysphoria (aka transgenderism), for example.  Gender dysphoria used to be labelled as a mental illness.  Now, it is a way of life.  It is a choice.  What does that mean for other mental illnesses?
Now, imagine a world where there are no mental illnesses.  Only choices.  Different ways of life.  Anxiety is socially accepted as a way of life.  I am free to never leave my house, to stay cooped up with my fears, terrified of the world around me.  But it's okay.  I made my choice to live with my fears.
What a frightening world!  It gives me anxiety just thinking about it.  Mental illnesses are...well, illnesses.  They are meant to be overcome.  A woman with breast cancer doesn't choose to accept her illness.  She fights it.  A man with diabetes doesn't accept his illness.  He fights it.  A child with the flu doesn't accept their illness.  They fight it.  It really frustrates me that certain mental disorders are being made mainstream while people are still fighting to overcome their own disorders.  I don't mean to start any arguments.  Everyone, including myself, is entitled to their own opinions.  (So please don't stop following me or unfriend me!)  I just want people to see my side of things.  I will respect other people's choices because they are free to make choices.  I can't decide things for others.  But please, don't let a simple hormone imbalance (serotonin in my case) be the deciding factor in your life.  Remember, I am not my body.  Neither are you.  You decide who you want to be.  Choose wisely.

Why Can't Big Boys Cry?

Growing up with anxiety gave me a lot to cry about as a kid.  I was afraid of the dark, afraid of people, afraid of water (swimming).  When put in an uncomfortable situation, I would usually cry.  It took me years to overcome this.  There have been times as an adult where I was put in an uncomfortable situation and the only thing I could do was shed a few tears.  In today's society, this is really embarrassing.  I'm actually embarrassed to be writing about this.  We as a society are just fine with women crying.  They are allowed to show emotion.  But Heaven forbid if a boy should cry.  Buck up!  Big boys don't cry.
It seems as though boys are taught to hide their emotions.  I tried to hide mine for years.  All that bottled up emotion has to come out eventually.  Let's just hope no one is around when it happens.
I don't remember the last time I cried, which is a huge improvement for me.  But when I keep my emotions to myself and let them build up inside me, I usually end up crying eventually.  But different people react in different ways.  Some people, after hiding their emotions, can become angry and lash out at loved ones.  Not only is that unhealthy, it is potentially dangerous for others.
Remember those t-shirts that said "Real Men Wear Pink"?  It's true.  Real men do wear pink.  Real men also show emotion.  They express their feelings openly.  Women, don't assume that men are heartless, soulless beings.  And men, don't be afraid to show that you have a heart.  Don't be afraid to cry a little, laugh sometimes, and love a lot.  You'll be doing yourself a favor.

Keep Calm and...

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."
-John Quincy Adams

President Adams certainly knew what he was talking about.  I've been thinking a lot about patience.  Not to toot my own horn, but my strongest trait is my patience.  I have been told that I have the 'patience of a saint'.  I never really had to learn to be patient.  It just came naturally.  But I have experienced impatience.  It was not a pleasant experience.
The last time I lost my patience, I got really angry with the situation I was in, which resulted in me quitting my job as a shift manager at a restaurant.  (It all worked out in the end.  I love my current job!)  What I learned from this experience was the difference between getting angry and getting frustrated. 
I don't know about you, but when I get angry, I tend to only focus on that which has angered me.  By dwelling upon the situation, I just get angrier and angrier until I eventually give up.
When I am frustrated, however, I can still find ways to resolve the problem.  I am stressed out, but not to the point of giving up.  I am still able to think clearly and get through whatever problem I am facing.
Patience plays a big part in this.  When I get frustrated, I haven't quite gotten to the point where I have lost my patience.  When I get angry, though, all patience is gone.  As you can see, patience can be important in deciding what kind of mood you will be in.  For me, I just keep in mind that through patience, I tend to better get things done. 
The number one cause of people losing patience, in my opinion, is usually in dealing with other people.  No one thinks the way I do, acts exactly the same way I do.  It's easy to lose patience with them.  I just keep in mind that everyone is human.  Everyone makes mistakes.  You shouldn't lose patience with someone because of a mistake they made when you make mistakes in your life as well.  Just remember that in order to love life, you need to keep calm and be patient.

(On a side note, for my Christian friends, my mom taught me to never pray for patience.  Heavenly Father has a sense of humor.  He won't give you patience.  He will teach you patience.  So when you pray for patience, expect things to go terribly wrong.  It's just God trying to teach you a lesson!)

A World Without Imagination

The past few visits with my nephew have been a blast.  He's at a stage in life where everyone is a superhero.  When he is visiting, we fight crime, watch superhero shows, play with masks and action figures, and serve justice...all before nap time.  Playing pretend is always so much fun.  I love my nephew's wild imagination.  I don't get to use my imagination much anymore.

As a child, I had a crazy imagination.  I didn't ask my parents very many questions.  I just made up reasons for things.  For example, one question I do remember asking my mom was how the street lights know when to turn on in the evening and off in the morning.  She said something about computers.  I got it in my head that there were tiny people sitting inside those street lamps playing solitaire on their computers until it was time to light up the neighborhood.

I also remember playing The Floor is Lava with my siblings.  We would gather all our pillows and blankets and jump from pillow to pillow onto our lava resistant ship built from blankets.

While working with kids for the last eight years (Cub Scouts, Primary, babysitting), I've begun to notice a decrease in imagination.  I've witnessed children pretending, but only what they've seen on TV.  They rarely come up with their own stories.  They will, in fact, recite full lines from movies and TV shows.

What does this say about today's children?  Are they spending too much time in front of the television?  How about iPads and Tablets?  The games they are playing are preprogrammed to work a certain way.  No need for imagination there.  And even public schools are cutting back on teaching children how to be imaginative.  If a school district is running low on money, what is usually the first thing to be cut?  Music and art, where children are free to express themselves.

What can we do about this?  Unplug the kids.  Give them an arts and crafts project.  Let them play make believe.  Read to them.  Through books, children can be taken to a new world that they have to picture in their minds, assuming we're reading a novel and not a picture book.  

A world without imagination is a world I don't wish to be a part of.  Without imagination there would be no future.  No new ideas or inventions.  Nothing would ever change.  So next time I'm pretending to be a superhero with my nephew, I'm going to tell him that his greatest super power is real.  Imagination is a super power.  Imagine that.

Does That Make Me Racist?

I've been seeing a lot of posts lately claiming that white people are born racist.  I always thought this was nonsense.  The way one is raised determines what they believe.  And then I thought about an event that had occurred in my life.
One summer night, a little before midnight, my older sister and I were driving a friend back to his home.  He lived in a rough neighborhood with a mostly black population.  After saying our goodbyes, my sister and I headed home.  While still in the neighborhood, we drove passed two black teen boys.  One of them jumped on our car and then slipped off the other side.  This event really freaked us out.
Arriving home around midnight, we pull into out parking space and witness a black women walking into our home.  Again, we were a little freaked out.  But why were we so distressed?  Would my sister and I have acted the same way if a white woman were walking into our house at midnight?  Honestly, I don't think we would have.  We would have been confused, but probably not worried.
After warily walking into the house, my sister and I found our next door neighbor, who was extremely pregnant, with my mom in the basement.  She couldn't sleep and wanted to see what we had done with our basement.  This woman and her husband, both black, were the best next door neighbors we had ever had.  My sister and I both felt very guilty for assuming something bad was going to happen.
I am not racist.  My sister is not racist.  No one in my immediate family is racist.  I think that my sister and I were still stressed out from the teen boy jumping on our car.  Because of this stress, seeing a black women walking into our home made us a little cautious.
I hope no one thinks any differently of me (or my sister) because of this little blurb of an event.  This happened probably twelve years ago, but it's still on my mind to this day.  It bothers me that I judged such a wonderful woman based on someone else's actions.  My parents were very firm about teaching my siblings and I to love our neighbors.  Not just our literal neighbors, but those who we see in our everyday lives.
I don't offend easily, but those posts claiming that (to a certain degree) all white people are racist really upset me.  It's like I'm being accused of a crime I didn't commit.  I am not a racist.  A person is a person, no matter what they look like. Treat everyone the same way.  Love everyone. 

A Simple Case of Hypocrisy

Written by Anna Kretchman (my younger sister)
Why are we okay with songs like "Shape of You" (by Ed Sheeran)? Why do we rage on about rape and abuse while jamming out to songs about objectifying people?
"Shape of You" came on at work the other day and I literally had to go on break and try not to just start sobbing. I couldn't get it out of my head for a good fifteen minutes.
You see, I know what it feels like to be seen more as a body than as a person. I know what happens when the "shape of" a person is the main focus. Nothing good.
So I cannot be okay with glorifying situations in songs, movies, etc. where sex is the main focus of a relationship. I can’t be okay with one night stands and “friends with benefits.” I can’t be okay with everyone being okay with these things.
Why do we all want someone to love us for who we are, and yet everything in the media shows us that it’s fine to just love someone’s body? Why is everyone so angry when someone is molested, when children are being raised listening to horrible messages set to catchy music? Oh wait, you mean it’s NOT okay to just want someone’s body? Then why is that a common theme in everything that we see and hear? Why is it becoming harder and harder to find anything “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy” in the media when we all are horrified by what the media is teaching the world to do?
I can personally say that I’ve experienced someone loving the “shape of me” above all else and let me tell you, it didn’t make me feel beautiful or sexy. It made me feel violated. It made me feel like I, me as a person, wasn’t enough. So pardon me if I’m not going to listen to all of the popular tunes on the radio with you.

A Lesson in Literature

I love getting lost in a good book.  Entering new worlds.  Going on epic adventures.  Feeling like I am someone else (got to love books written in the first person!).  Out of the dozens of books I have read in my 26 years on Earth, few have stayed with me.  I easily forget plot and characters.  But there are two books that will stay with me forever.  I could read them over and over again.  These books are Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli and The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer.  Both books are aimed for a younger audience, middle school to early high school.
Milkweed follows a young boy in WWII Poland.  He finds himself in the Warsaw Ghetto, not knowing what is going on.  His innocent view of the world around him leaves the reader with an optimistic viewpoint of life.
The House of the Scorpion, which I am currently re-reading, is about a boy, Matteo, who finds out he is the clone of a wealthy drug lord.  An intense series of events eventually shows the reason behind Matteo's being 'born'.
The thing about these two books that really stand out to me is the childlike innocence of the main characters.  Horrible things are happening in the lives of these boys, but they somehow manage to find and hold on to the good things in life.
As an adult, I know I really struggle with seeing the good in the world.  Watching the news is terrifying!  Through reading books such as Milkweed and The House of the Scorpion, I am able to alter my perspective on things which, honestly, is much needed nowadays.   

Over Thinking Snow

I hate snow.  So much!  It's cold, it's wet, and it just gets in the way.  It's difficult to drive in.  Classes are cancelled, so your boss expects you to come in early.  Snow is awful.
This past week, however, after 2017's Snowstorm Stella, I learned to love snow again.  Well, maybe not love.  But I am enjoying it again.  Working with kids will do that to you.  Last time it snowed, one of the boys and I built a snowman.  Yesterday, all three boys and I went sledding.  Today, the five year old and I built a snow fort and did some more sledding. It took a child to show me that snow can still be fun.  It's amazing how points of views can change when it comes to people you care about.
Which brings me to over thinking snow.  Try to keep up.
Driving home from work today, I was thinking about the fun I had in the snow with the boys this week.  I was thinking about how I go the extra mile for them because I care about them.  Which got me wondering if I would go the extra mile for those I don't get along with.  I realized that I probably would not.
I wish to change that.  I was raised to treat everyone equally.  If someone is being mean to me, I still love them and show respect to them.  (I have this conversation with the five year old twice a week.)  I need to treat everyone as if I care about them.  Because I should care about them.  They are human, just like me.
So there you have it.  I've been enlightened by snow.

Who Am I?

When I think about all the things I do with my life, I make myself sound like the perfect individual who always keeps himself busy.  I have an awesome part-time job.  I'm taking an online class.  I am a Cub Scout leader.  I teach Primary (children's Sunday School).  I keep up with a weekly blog.  I make it seem as though I have my life under control.  This couldn't be farther from the truth.
At (nearly) 26-years old, I am pretty sure I have already gone through a mid-life crisis...multiple times.  I am now on my fourth Major change at school.  I often find myself wondering if I should just give up on school.  Is it really worth the money and stress?  I often think about quitting Cub Scouts.  What do the boys have to learn from me anyway?
Growing up, I was a quitter.  I quit sports.  I quit projects.  I had very low self efficacy.  As an adult, I see how that has affected my life.  It has always been easier for me to quit than to follow through.  When things get difficult, what is the point of going on?  Now I see that quitting is rarely the answer.  How am I to progress in life if I keep giving up?
I recently switched my Major from English Education to Physical/Occupational Therapy.  A lot of science classes are required.  After math, science is my least favorite subject.  But I got a B last semester in Biology.  I honestly didn't think that was possible.  Because of that B, my whole view on how to live my life has changed.  I never really thought that I could be whatever I wanted to be.  Now I know that anything is possible.  Through hard work and determination, I can reach my goals.  Now let's just hope this is the last time I change my Major.
As for the Cub Scouts, it's easy to lose patience when the boys don't listen and are jumping over the chairs and tables.  Let's play tag instead of listen to Philip!  That's my normal Wednesday night.  I gave up on the boys for a while.  Sure, I still went on Wednesdays.  I still attempted to teach them.  But it never seemed to work out for me.  But after being hired as a manny, I have learned how to better react to the boys, how to better teach them.  I am still struggling, but I finally have the boys participating.
The point I'm trying to make is to not judge others based on what you see or hear.  I try to hide the struggles in my life.  I want people to think that I am strong, that I truly am able to do all the things I do.  But maybe it's time to ask for help.  I shouldn't let life get me down when there are so many people around me willing to lift me up.
Who am I?  I'm Philip, manny, student, Cub Scout leader, blogger and future Physical/Occupational Therapist.  I am who I want to be.  A young man with flaws and much to learn.

Thank You!

I hit 1,000 views this week!  A big THANKS to all of you readers!  I appreciate all the positive feedback.  Please, feel free to share my posts.  I'm hoping to get another 1,000 views.  But this time, in less than 6 months.  My regularly posting certainly helps, but your support is what is important to me.  So go back through my blog and share what you like.  And there is anything you want me to talk about, leave a comment or message me.
Once again, thank you!