Still alive, haven't been as frequent, planning to be more so+latest realization

[midnightstar]

Originally Posted by peripatetic

Luna, I definitely thought I'd never be in a position to leave my daughter, but when the delusions have me, I lack insight. My mum lost her mental illness battle, so I know how much it sucks to lose a parent to suicide.

I'm so sorry, peri

[Lunacie]

Originally Posted by peripatetic

Luna, I definitely thought I'd never be in a position to leave my daughter, but when the delusions have me, I lack insight. My mum lost her mental illness battle, so I know how much it sucks to lose a parent to suicide.

That I've lived this long is beating a bunch of odds/statistics. That one day it'll probably win makes me feel obliged to not let her get too attached to me. But then that's impossible because we've already bonded and she's 3.75, so will have at least faint memories of me no matter what. I keep a journal to her, too. In case she *is* only left with faint memories.

I wouldn't have had a clue about the legacy of suicide except for one of Oprah's
shows. That one left it's mark on me.

[peripatetic]

I have gained nearly fifteen pounds since my June hospitalizations. The clozaril-zyprexa combo is getting to me despite taking metformin. Though that's more about blood sugar. I want to switch completely and quickly to something else. My psychiatrist likes to do gradual changes but something more immediate needs to get going.

[Rebelyell]

I lost my nephew in 15 to suicide,I've been there a few times myself only by the grace of God am I still here somehow• I guess things got better or n I hung in there n my faith.never easy to lose a parent no matter how they go

[tudorose]

(((Peri)))

I wish I could take it all away for you

[peripatetic]

It's midnight and I'm awake. Took all of my meds. Listening to the little prince. Might go snuggle my small girl soon. My psychiatrist is making me wait two weeks to start cross tapering off zyprexa and back to risperdal to try that with clozaril. I weighed 22pounds more yesterday than when discharged back in June.

My therapist calls my dream of one day being off all meds "fantasy". What they don't realize is that I DO appreciate the gravity of my situation and ailment. And I feel like I have to take it out before it claims me and ruins anything that was ever good in me. but the sad fact is we're all just marching toward the statistics we'll end up being predicated with in our obits...or at least in the gossip surrounding our lives.

Saw some friends from prep school a few weeks ago. Everyone is filling some box they never imagined would define their lives or stand for their accomplishments or failure to achieve. J is the divorced one who ended up dx BP1 with psychotic features late in life. J, c, and me all have only children. C and her partner are the unmarried ones. C is the one who had brutal postpartum depression and anxiety. D is the one who ended up in the military (v rare among those I went to school with) and is a current gun owner. A2 is still selling pot out of one of his parents houses. A has become absorbed with bring an at home mum.

And then there's me. Where the first half of my life is all (except primary school...that was a dark period in my life) go and do and see and meet and learn and teach and write and speak. And the second half is a revolving psychiatric hospital door, three attempts with clear intent and fatal means, seven meds a day to be still left unable to work. I'm the one who got pregnant and didn't realize it for over four months. I'm the one who runs away when things get to me. Like when I ran away to Iceland after eshy died, or, more recently, ...well, I don't know what all to admit here and not. I took my girl to Paris, then Amsterdam in October to meet up with ma belle soeur du sud, who's currently living in Stuttgart. I'm not even going to get into the breadth and depth of legal troubles I've had thanks to my symptoms being uncontrolled.

It's past midnight and I've taken all of the meds. And yet here we are. Once again. Scarred from self surgeries, my short term memory is nil, and every day I worry that my girl is growing up with a mother who will one day break her heart when the ailment wins.

Yeah...so I'm not doing well.

Love and light to all x

On some papers I look phenomenal. On others I look extremely unwell and prone to "profound" bouts of psychosis. And I want to rage at my psychiatrist for not immediately switching me from clozaril/zyprexa to clozaril/something else. But it's also not lost on me the I was less than 40 highly detailed hours out from killing e's mother.

[Fuzzy12]

Originally Posted by peripatetic

It's midnight and I'm awake. Took all of my meds. Listening to the little prince. Might go snuggle my small girl soon. My psychiatrist is making me wait two weeks to start cross tapering off zyprexa and back to risperdal to try that with clozaril. I weighed 22pounds more yesterday than when discharged back in June.

My therapist calls my dream of one day being off all meds "fantasy". What they don't realize is that I DO appreciate the gravity of my situation and ailment. And I feel like I have to take it out before it claims me and ruins anything that was ever good in me. but the sad fact is we're all just marching toward the statistics we'll end up being predicated with in our obits...or at least in the gossip surrounding our lives.

Saw some friends from prep school a few weeks ago. Everyone is filling some box they never imagined would define their lives or stand for their accomplishments or failure to achieve. J is the divorced one who ended up dx BP1 with psychotic features late in life. J, c, and me all have only children. C and her partner are the unmarried ones. C is the one who had brutal postpartum depression and anxiety. D is the one who ended up in the military (v rare among those I went to school with) and is a current gun owner. A2 is still selling pot out of one of his parents houses. A has become absorbed with bring an at home mum.

And then there's me. Where the first half of my life is all (except primary school...that was a dark period in my life) go and do and see and meet and learn and teach and write and speak. And the second half is a revolving psychiatric hospital door, three attempts with clear intent and fatal means, seven meds a day to be still left unable to work. I'm the one who got pregnant and didn't realize it for over four months. I'm the one who runs away when things get to me. Like when I ran away to Iceland after eshy died, or, more recently, ...well, I don't know what all to admit here and not. I took my girl to Paris, then Amsterdam in October to meet up with ma belle soeur du sud, who's currently living in Stuttgart. I'm not even going to get into the breadth and depth of legal troubles I've had thanks to my symptoms being uncontrolled.

It's past midnight and I've taken all of the meds. And yet here we are. Once again. Scarred from self surgeries, my short term memory is nil, and every day I worry that my girl is growing up with a mother who will one day break her heart when the ailment wins.

Yeah...so I'm not doing well.

Love and light to all x

On some papers I look phenomenal. On others I look extremely unwell and prone to "profound" bouts of psychosis. And I want to rage at my psychiatrist for not immediately switching me from clozaril/zyprexa to clozaril/something else. But it's also not lost on me the I was less than 40 highly detailed hours out from killing e's mother.

Much love and light to you too peri. It's funny where life takes us ... Or doesn't. Mental illness is definitely not something I thought much about as a child..I always thought I was different but not in the way I am.

I just today increased the dose of my anti depressants though initially I'd been hoping to be able to start quitting them beginning of this year. That is completely unreasonable though considering that I only started middle of December. I didnt increase them because they weren't working but because they did and because I'm done with being miserable. I hate the side effects. Really bad nausea and light headedness but it's better than being depressed.

[Fuzzy12]

Originally Posted by peripatetic

Luna, I definitely thought I'd never be in a position to leave my daughter, but when the delusions have me, I lack insight. My mum lost her mental illness battle, so I know how much it sucks to lose a parent to suicide.

That I've lived this long is beating a bunch of odds/statistics. That one day it'll probably win makes me feel obliged to not let her get too attached to me. But then that's impossible because we've already bonded and she's 3.75, so will have at least faint memories of me no matter what. I keep a journal to her, too. In case she *is* only left with faint memories.

Peri I wish you a long and a long happy life but whatever happens it's better for your little girl to be attached to you and to have a strong bond. That bond is vital for her development however long it may last. She would be heart broken anyway if anything happened to you but if she has grown up with strong attachments and secure bonds to those close to her, especially you she will be healthier, stronger and in better shape to deal with anything.

(Forgive me if I'm responding to just a flippant remark (though I don't think you make flippant remarks) or if I'm telling you something that you already know or if I'm being insensitive or callous in some way.)

[midnightstar]

Much love to you, peri

[sarahsweets]

Peri- I would love to tell you that you have got it all wrong-but you and I know that we have got it about half wrong. I too have had multiple hospitalizations and IOP/PHP visits in my children's lives. When I was non-med compliant I actually suffered from what they called 'fugue' states where I am disoriented, combative, nasty, out of it, talking funny.. I wonder if they are more like psychotic states but the psych says I had no delusions or grandiose thoughts so that wasn't the case. I have been stable for a couple of years and I think the stress i have had made a crack in my exterior. I had an episode again- on christmas! I have been told I didnt ruin things like years' past-but I have little memory of how things went. It kills me to have people referrencing things we talked about and I have no idea what they are saying. I play along to the best of my ability because I dont want them to know I am blank about it. I know it brings fear to my kids and husband because they are reminded of the days where this was a common chaotic occurance. I guess I get them into a semblance of security and then I have the rug pulled out from under me. I take a lot of medications and I cant control it. But it doesnt make it any less devastating to have experienced this and upset everyone. My mom tried to get me to skip christmas dinner and said I would embarrass my family- THAT I remember. I have been told it wasnt bad like it used to be but how fair is it that I lull myself and everyone else into this false sense of security and then this sh*t happens again? I have been doing what I am supposed to do. I have been taking all my meds- I havent let the mean part of me convince me to stop taking them and it STILL happened. It makes me wonder if taking them is even worth it. I mean if its going to happen anyway... I feel so ashamed and embarrassed. I feel like I am a chronic self sabatoger(sp). Even though I do not mean to screw myself over it happens anyway. My poor husband. He did not deserve this-on top of alcoholism. Who loves someone like this. Because of Christmas I have decided to go back to therapy. It was suggested to me that the stress of Becca running away and rehab and all that, combined with Jacob's stroke and the usual stress have taken a toll on me and that is why it happened again. I have no idea if that is true and cant help thinking I must be defective but I am listening to the suggestions because obviously I am not doing something right for it to have happened again.
I hear you loud and clear sister.....
xxoo

[Rebelyell]

Even tho I have my own problems n tribulations I continually keep you in my thoughts and prayers my friend.

[Lunacie]

{{{{{Peri}}}}}

{{{{{Sarah}}}}}

Neither one of you is doing anything wrong or should be blamed for anything.

You are doing the best you can against very difficult odds.

[peripatetic]

Originally Posted by Rebelyell

Even tho I have my own problems n tribulations I continually keep you in my thoughts and prayers my friend.

i appreciate that (and you), reb. xx

[Greyhound1]

Peri, much love, friendship and respect for how strong and such a great mum you’ve been for E.

Your well-being is regularly in my thoughts and well wishes.

[peripatetic]

before anyone freaks out about what i'm about to say, i want to note that i'm not currently actively suicidal, not currently planning, no intention or expectation of death.

that said, i'm totally passively suicidal. it's weird because i knew there was something lingering, but i finally figured out today what it is. i want to just be erased. or have it be not of my own doing so nobody has to feel like they coulda/shoulda/woulda and it can just be, oh, peri's dead. life moves on. plus then my small girl wouldn't grow up with having had both her maternal grandmother and mother succumb to mental illness.

if i could give myself a quick aneurysm i think i might. but then i also ....

i don't want to die of some disease that ravages my body and mind and forces others to physically and mentally care for me as i deteriorate.

i feel like there's a line that's been crossed with me. the person who lectured at universities worldwide... is not here anymore. my OT "homework" is to 1. get sufficient sleep; 2. change clothing; 3. leave my house at least once every twenty four hours.

i mean, might as well add "don't forget to wipe **** after taking a dump" because that's where i'm operating at this point.

sure, i do suck it up and somehow, like the adrenaline rush of fear and desire enables someone to lift a vehicle off their child or a stranger... i can have these bursts of "making it all happen". but that's what i'm left with. bursts. not episodes of things not happening, but seemingly ever more sporadic periods of remission. i think they call it residual... my memory isn't what it once was with certain things, though.

the toll that these psychotic breaks, and being untreated for significant lengths of time before being hauled in... i'll never bounce back from all of this. and i'm tired of enduring it.