Let's talk about caffeine. My drug of choice. It makes me tremor, paranoid, anxious, irritable, but man can I pay attention like nobody's business. Just kidding, but seriously, I love my cup a' Joe in the a.m. When you have anxiety, which comes with bipolar disorder, it is recommended to limit caffeine intake to one cup a day or eight ounces in twenty-four hours. Let's be honest, who does this? There is work to be done, people! I need my fix.
This definitely comes with a price. I sit here wide awake as the clock approaches 11:00pm, an hour past my bedtime. Here's where it gets interesting. The worry is, "Why am I wide awake? Did I have caffeine after noon? Maybe too much sugar tonight? Huh, maybe I'm going manic. Crap!"
Insert fear.
When you have a diagnosis like bipolar disorder and you're serious about being healthy, every change in equilibrium is of concern. I get hyper like a little kid sometimes, and most of the time it's probably just my personality or maybe that extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. But I don't know that. I just worry, watching for signs of mania. Running a checklist through my head: Do I have rapid thoughts? Am I scattered? Can I focus? Impulsivity? Inability to sit still?
That's just what came to mind this second. The fact I'm able to sit here and write about the possibility of having mania probably means I don't and it's more likely a sugar high. Regardless, suffice it to say, living with a diagnosis leaves you questioning EVERYTHING about your health, thinking, emotions, and body. Talk about stress and anxiety. Pretty sure my stomach just did flips thinking about the concerns of not being well. I personally have a laundry list of medical ailments I'll spare you with, but I'm pretty positive they're all tied into some very rare disease that has inhabited my body for the last 29 years, disguising itself as a mental health disorder. Don't worry, they'll figure it out one day I'm sure. Until then, I'll keep poppin' my pills and getting that regular sleep schedule down.
Come to think of it, I haven't worked out in a few days. This could just be restless, pent-up energy. You never can be sure. Best to take precaution and rise and shine with a good run and a cup of coffee in the a.m., but maybe only one cup.
Check in with you next time.
Nat
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Music for the Soul
It's been a rough couple weeks. In light of that, here's a list of some songs I turn to when music seems to be the only thing that understands and comforts. What are your uplifting life songs? Would love to get a large playlist for those days that are less than lovely.
Rob Thomas "Someday"
Otis Redding - "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay"
Gym Class Heros: "The Fighter" ft. Ryan Tedder
Florence + The Machine - "Shake It Out"
Queen & David Bowie - "Under Pressure"
Joe Cocker - "With a Little Help From My Friends"
Ben E. King - "Stand by me"
The Beatles - "Blackbird"
Loggins and Messina - "Danny's Song"
George Harrison - "My Sweet Lord"
The Verve - "Bitter Sweet Symphony"
The Beatles - "Here Comes the Sun"
Anna Nalick - "Breathe (2AM)"
Sara Bareilles - "Brave"
Rob Thomas "Someday"
Otis Redding - "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay"
Gym Class Heros: "The Fighter" ft. Ryan Tedder
Florence + The Machine - "Shake It Out"
Queen & David Bowie - "Under Pressure"
Joe Cocker - "With a Little Help From My Friends"
Ben E. King - "Stand by me"
The Beatles - "Blackbird"
Loggins and Messina - "Danny's Song"
George Harrison - "My Sweet Lord"
The Verve - "Bitter Sweet Symphony"
The Beatles - "Here Comes the Sun"
Anna Nalick - "Breathe (2AM)"
Sara Bareilles - "Brave"
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Support Systems
July 2014
At an outdoor venue after a Thursday evening women's race, I was asked the question, "Is that your primary support system?" What a compassionate question to ask another human being. Taken back by the question, I thought for a second and responded, "No, I don't have one."
This led to some reflecting on my end. Why don't I have a support system? I've been asked this question in therapy sessions and never knew how to answer. That's the unfortunate reality of living in silence. Sure, you might have fair-weather friends who are there for some drinks and laughs, but who will be there when you really need them? Will you be willing to open yourself up enough to ask for help and support? I know with my stubborn ways, that's not something that came very naturally. I could handle it myself. I don't need anybody.
That's just the wrong attitude to have. Thinking we don't need each other and can do things on our own sets us up for a life of loneliness, disconnect, and cynicism. I grew up as someone who wore a smile and kept everything in. After all, nobody wants to be around you when you're less than cheerful, right? That's what went through my mind anyway. After being diagnosed in 2009, I went a year without coping, trying to move on and push through life like a "normal" person. Man did that backfire. Now, five years later, I'm still working to find balance and live healthfully with my diagnosis, trying to focus on what I must do to stay well and not just stay alive, but thrive.
So in coming back to this whole support system deal, it's one of the most important things to have outside of yourself. Sure, we can set schedules, eat well, exercise, take appropriate supplements, avoid triggers, but we can't face everything alone. After being asked this question, I realized I don't allow people to become part of a support system and that's my problem. I have since (granted, it's only been a few days), opened up to a few kind-hearted people who happen to like me for my both my flaws and attributes. Also, to be honest, type-vomiting your vulnerability via the internet is quite therapeutic and has a way of bringing out true colors in some people.
I ask you, who is in your support group? Do you have those, say, five or so people you can turn to when things get a little too heavy or overwhelming? For me, this question really made me think about the people I choose to have in my life and whether there was a surface or genuine connection. After all, we all want to feel connected and included in this world. Don't battle your demons alone. Reach out, you might be surprised where you find a helping hand.
Best,
Natale
At an outdoor venue after a Thursday evening women's race, I was asked the question, "Is that your primary support system?" What a compassionate question to ask another human being. Taken back by the question, I thought for a second and responded, "No, I don't have one."
This led to some reflecting on my end. Why don't I have a support system? I've been asked this question in therapy sessions and never knew how to answer. That's the unfortunate reality of living in silence. Sure, you might have fair-weather friends who are there for some drinks and laughs, but who will be there when you really need them? Will you be willing to open yourself up enough to ask for help and support? I know with my stubborn ways, that's not something that came very naturally. I could handle it myself. I don't need anybody.
That's just the wrong attitude to have. Thinking we don't need each other and can do things on our own sets us up for a life of loneliness, disconnect, and cynicism. I grew up as someone who wore a smile and kept everything in. After all, nobody wants to be around you when you're less than cheerful, right? That's what went through my mind anyway. After being diagnosed in 2009, I went a year without coping, trying to move on and push through life like a "normal" person. Man did that backfire. Now, five years later, I'm still working to find balance and live healthfully with my diagnosis, trying to focus on what I must do to stay well and not just stay alive, but thrive.
So in coming back to this whole support system deal, it's one of the most important things to have outside of yourself. Sure, we can set schedules, eat well, exercise, take appropriate supplements, avoid triggers, but we can't face everything alone. After being asked this question, I realized I don't allow people to become part of a support system and that's my problem. I have since (granted, it's only been a few days), opened up to a few kind-hearted people who happen to like me for my both my flaws and attributes. Also, to be honest, type-vomiting your vulnerability via the internet is quite therapeutic and has a way of bringing out true colors in some people.
I ask you, who is in your support group? Do you have those, say, five or so people you can turn to when things get a little too heavy or overwhelming? For me, this question really made me think about the people I choose to have in my life and whether there was a surface or genuine connection. After all, we all want to feel connected and included in this world. Don't battle your demons alone. Reach out, you might be surprised where you find a helping hand.
Best,
Natale
Friday, June 27, 2014
Under Sheets of Clay
June 2014
So here's the deal. I'm 29 years old, single, living in Raleigh, North Carolina (marriage capital of the world, I'm pretty sure), carrying my own baggage of goodies as most people nearing their thirties are. From the outside, I look pretty normal. But not everything is what it seems.
I feel compelled to share this as much as I always have for the past seventeen years. You see, mental health is near and dear to my heart. I've struggled with sadness my whole life, but when I lost my brother due to suicide at the age of 12, I knew from that moment I wanted to be an advocate for mental health patients, families, and loved ones. My brother was 26 when he died, just a week shy of 27. I went through life not understanding how we can just follow these rules, living like herded sheep, just for it all to come to a screeching end. I struggled with this thinking since my brother became ill, for he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder not that long before his passing. I want to say less than a year prior but I was young, what did I know. All I know is I was afraid, locking myself in my room, unsure of the next action he might take. Unsure if I might be attacked. Afraid I might turn out just like him.
And I did.
Well, not an exact replica, but you get the idea. I, myself, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 24. I have spent every single second of every day since then working to better myself in every way. I struggle and fall hard, probably more often than not, but what matters is that I keep trying, knowing I am emotionally strong enough to pull through the dark times and see that light at the end of the tunnel. I am not my disease, but I do have to deal with it. Every decision of every day impacts whether I'm moving closer to my health and wellness, or driving myself back to a place of unpredictability and madness.
I don't write any of this to gain sympathy or to jerk any tears from your exhausted eyes. I write because it's what's in my heart and the only thing that feels right to me. Every day is a journey in seeing what actions and decisions I can make to feel better, whether it be in that moment or by the end of the day. After being diagnosed with any kind of illness, your whole world seems to be flipped upside down. Nothing looks the same to you anymore. Suddenly things that seemed so dire begin to disappear into the shadows. You wake up and it's as if everything has been taken from you. It sucks and it hurts. But I'm here to tell you there are ways to live healthfully and make the best of this life we're given, with or without illness. I write this blog to inspire, to share, but mostly to connect to those of you out there who often feel as alone as I do in times of struggle. Let us be rocks to each other and hold strong to the belief that there are good days and bad, but there are always decisions you can make to pull through and see the light in the darkness.
Hope you'll join me in my journey of learning how to live healthfully while I work on my therapeutic writing and share my toughest times with the world.
Thank you,
Natale
So here's the deal. I'm 29 years old, single, living in Raleigh, North Carolina (marriage capital of the world, I'm pretty sure), carrying my own baggage of goodies as most people nearing their thirties are. From the outside, I look pretty normal. But not everything is what it seems.
I feel compelled to share this as much as I always have for the past seventeen years. You see, mental health is near and dear to my heart. I've struggled with sadness my whole life, but when I lost my brother due to suicide at the age of 12, I knew from that moment I wanted to be an advocate for mental health patients, families, and loved ones. My brother was 26 when he died, just a week shy of 27. I went through life not understanding how we can just follow these rules, living like herded sheep, just for it all to come to a screeching end. I struggled with this thinking since my brother became ill, for he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder not that long before his passing. I want to say less than a year prior but I was young, what did I know. All I know is I was afraid, locking myself in my room, unsure of the next action he might take. Unsure if I might be attacked. Afraid I might turn out just like him.
And I did.
Well, not an exact replica, but you get the idea. I, myself, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 24. I have spent every single second of every day since then working to better myself in every way. I struggle and fall hard, probably more often than not, but what matters is that I keep trying, knowing I am emotionally strong enough to pull through the dark times and see that light at the end of the tunnel. I am not my disease, but I do have to deal with it. Every decision of every day impacts whether I'm moving closer to my health and wellness, or driving myself back to a place of unpredictability and madness.
I don't write any of this to gain sympathy or to jerk any tears from your exhausted eyes. I write because it's what's in my heart and the only thing that feels right to me. Every day is a journey in seeing what actions and decisions I can make to feel better, whether it be in that moment or by the end of the day. After being diagnosed with any kind of illness, your whole world seems to be flipped upside down. Nothing looks the same to you anymore. Suddenly things that seemed so dire begin to disappear into the shadows. You wake up and it's as if everything has been taken from you. It sucks and it hurts. But I'm here to tell you there are ways to live healthfully and make the best of this life we're given, with or without illness. I write this blog to inspire, to share, but mostly to connect to those of you out there who often feel as alone as I do in times of struggle. Let us be rocks to each other and hold strong to the belief that there are good days and bad, but there are always decisions you can make to pull through and see the light in the darkness.
Hope you'll join me in my journey of learning how to live healthfully while I work on my therapeutic writing and share my toughest times with the world.
Thank you,
Natale
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