Psycho-Babble Social Thread 1286

Shown: posts 1 to 17 of 17. This is the beginning of the thread.

 

MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION

Posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

I wrote this for my Psych of Personality class before I dropped out this sem. so thought i'de introduce myself by opening with this. I've always been skittish about posting poetry because some day i hope to actually put some poems in a book, chapbook whatever. some that i may consider have been published various places--but i have to say, reading this site has impressed me considerably--the truth trust respect and intellect all combined is, uh. . .neat ; ) so i'll think about poems maybe to add later--

My mother claims to know the moment of my conception and has made it known to me that I was born out of love and wanted. Knowing this has kept me alive for almost twenty-five years. I was a bicentennial baby; born on February 2nd--Groundhog’s Day. If said rodent supposedly sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. If it doesn’t, then winter is supposed to end “soon.” I had fun trying to predict the season’s end as a child. Maybe it wasn’t fun as much as much as superstition and then finally obsession. I would go the entire day not looking down for fear that I would prolong the cold miserable days that claimed me as their poster child. It dawned on me a few years ago that after Feb. 2nd winter will always end “soon” because spring officially starts about six weeks later. I stopped trying not to see my shadow.
My parents were hippies, I suppose, although not those “far out” bead-wearing, holistic healing, keeping their child with leukemia away from medical doctors, wheat grass drinking freaks. They did drugs, ran with intellectuals, moved back to the land, and kept politically liberal. I was not raised in a commune but our neighborhood was entirely liberal and networked. They set up a neighborhood school which I attended until I went to kindergarten in the nearest small town. I could read and write by age 3. At this time my father went to see a spiritualist and was told that in order to heal himself he must abandon his present life, wherefore he divorced my mother and left for Mexico. We didn’t hear from him for a year. My mother never said anything derogatory about my father, assured me that he still loved me and always supported the times that he and I did spend together in my youth. I can’t really say the same about my father. I still call my father “daddy” today, although I wonder why. I mean, why not something more grown-up like “dad.” When dad did come back, he wanted to take me to Mexico. Over the next few years, back and forth from travels with dad, I learned Spanish, got lice, fell in love with the ocean, and was repeatedly molested by a so-called friend of dad’s.
At about this age I first remember wanting to kill myself to see what it would be like to be dead. I must’ve heard about the concept of heaven somewhere, although our family was not religious. I think I wondered if I would become a ghost. The reason I did not kill myself then was because I knew that my mother would be very sad and miss me.
Over the years my relationship with my father was sporadic. When I spent time with him it was usually after waiting for him for four or five hours to pick me up and then following him around while he ran errands. My most vivid memories of him are actually trying to find him in hardware stores after waiting for him in the car. In therapy my senior year of high school, while dealing with my sexual abuse and mistrust of men, I also spent some time dealing with fear of abandonment.
My relationship with my father now is good, I think. He’s not really so much a father as an adult who’s really interested in me. We have some good talks. We’re very much alike. Flaky, intellectual, shy, and kind. I know he loves me very much.
By second grade I was ready to drop out of school. I was sent to the principal’s office so much that I think they were thinking of putting me in some kind of special ed class. Talking to my teacher my mother realized how limiting the class was and how limited my teacher was. She gave me a book about introductory astronomy and told me that when I finished assignments and got bored, instead of getting sent to the principal, if I read that book, she would send me to another school for 3rd grade. I read that book cover to cover a dozen times and enrolled in parochial school in Boonville a year later. I became very interested in God but not particularly interested in becoming Catholic so I sat out communion every Tuesday and Thursday morning. At night before bed, my mother would read me Lord of the Rings and teach me long division.
From age 5 to 16 my mother lived with and eventually married Ken, and cared for his two children every summer when they would visit from Alaska. Ken did not love me or make any effort to be a part of my life other than to discipline me. He obviously loved his children and for that I hated them. I spent my summers away from the house, away from my step brother and sister thinking that I could talk to trees and dogs with ESP and that my stuffed animals were sentient and watched me and that angels were everywhere, protecting me. The journal I kept religiously until I graduated high school was my best friend. I made myself secret forts and spent hours there. Dinner was whatever mom or Ken wanted to eat. Being a child, I hated most things they liked but there was a rule instated by Ken that we must take some of everything and we must eat it all. Therefore, to retaliate, I refused to eat or couldn’t eat. Somehow even if I was hungry or really trying to swallow my throat would just close up and I would gag. I sat alone for hours after everyone else had left the table. I was anorexic at age 16. I also danced (ballet and modern) and was thus hypoglycemic. Ken had an affair my sophomore year which ended their marriage and made my mom the happy woman she is today.
Through junior high I was a shy nerd. I could barely speak to people without passing out, and made straight A’s. Boys in my class would tease me about having no breasts and other sexual harassment. The real inspiration for trying to become one of the “cool” kids was a crush I had on a popular boy. I was successful largely because at about the 8th grade we moved up from poor to middle class with Ken’s new job. Then I got contacts, etc. etc.
In high school I was introduced to people, guys, who were intellectuals. They were “alternative” which was a precursor to grunge which was a precursor to punk. They played guitar, they smoked pot, wrote poetry, and they were artists. I fell in love with them all. My hundred dollar outfits became two dollar thrift store specials. Priorities changed, although I still seemed like I was one of the cool kids. I didn’t know that I had been tracked into honors classes. I didn’t know that the real cool kids were preps. Or I didn’t really care. I laughed at them for being so junior high. And I began writing for others.
About this time I remember my paranoia started getting really bad. I always thought there were cameras in the public bathrooms but now there was a camera in my showerhead at home and the mirror was two-way, so I made faces into it to let "them" know that I knew that they were watching. I could make people's heads explode with my mind if I ever decided I wanted to, and burn trees and buildings with my eyes.
I was still being sexually harassed. I just didn’t have any self esteem. I fell in love with a guy a year older than me who was bipolar and wanted to have sex with him. But something told me that this would be a traumatic event for me and I didn’t want to end up hating him so I started going out with another guy who wasn’t as intimidating. We had sex spring break of my senior year. It was well-planned. For years after that the stress of having sex would bring on a hypoglycemic attack that freaked out my lovers and made me secretly glad that I was scaring them.
I was accepted to Reed College in Portland, Oregon with a free ride. So I bleached my long hair white, dyed it a light silver purple (with old lady hair dye) and left. Something told me to try physics again as I couldn’t remember a thing from high school physics due to a guy bringing me to tears everyday talking about good I must be to f@!*& because I danced and how small a penis my boyfriend had and how it felt to have anal sex. Anyway I changed my intended major from biochemistry to physics. I made good grades my first year, gained 30 pounds, became bullemic, and tried acid for the first time. By the second year it was cough syrup, minithins, heroin, cocaine, extasy and anything else. I also slept around a lot, trying to teach myself to not be scared of men. I thought I might be gay, then decided I wasn’t. During the 2nd year I made it to class about 1/3 of the time and made my first C. I had intense mood changes, saw things and heard things, spent lots of money, cried all the time and pretty much decided I needed to stop living because I couldn’t stand myself. It hurt to think. I started seeing the school counselor who for some reason thought I needed anti psychotics. It turns out I did. (I’ve been paranoid since I was little and at this point, aside from hallucinating, I thought people could read my mind and everyone was watching me everywhere I went.) I also needed antidepressants and Depakote (We learned this after starting Zoloft and climbed the walls 24-7. I took a medical leave of absence to get this all sorted out. A year later I was officially diagnosed “schizo-effective bipolar”.
Since high school I had developed a network of friends across the country from people I knew in high school who went away and new friends I met during the summers back, who drifted around, staying at various friends houses. When I dropped out of school, I became in effect, homeless. I refused my family’s help. I tried to take medications but somehow I always sabotaged my efforts. It got pretty bad. I raved for a good year and a half. One night on cocaine, I was raped. Then, after my first suicide attempt (slitting my wrists) and I was hospitalized, I let my mom intercede. They experimented with my medications forever while I prayed each night that I would wake up dead the next day because it hurt so much not to care that much about anything. It was physically painful. I spent an entire summer asleep. The side effects were sometimes enough to drive one insane. Finally, it got better. I started a long-term relationship. We got engaged. I wanted to go back to school. So I left for Reed. I freaked out at the stress. I couldn’t get up in the morning so I started doing coke to stay up all night so that I would be awake to go to class. Of course it failed. I lost it and cut my wrists again, not knowing that the muscle relaxants that I overdosed on would only turn me to mush. But this time I realized how it would kill my parents and called for help. I tried to keep it secret from my mother but she found out and flew up and got me. I waited another year, getting better under the roof and support of my mother. I decided to compile my autobiography in poetry form.
Meanwhile I had quit my engagement and started the relationship I am now in. I keep changing so drastically. I don’t consider myself “punk” anymore. After years of not being able to hold a job and wondering if my mother would take care of me until she died, I started working, selling jewelry. It was stressful, but I maintained. Tentatively, I enrolled myself at ------- and changed my major to psychology. It was close to home and not as demanding of a school as Reed. I had many minor breakdowns, missed a lot of class, but finished the year. I still have my job at Zales. I freaked out the first week of school this year, but this is a new week. If I graduate, I will consider trying to get my doctorate in psychiatry, which means I need to raise my stress tolerance to acomidate medical school. After living for a year and a half with my boyfriend, I still question my independence but I don’t feel nearly the extent of intimidation I felt as a child around people. And I no longer fear for my psychological safety with men. I respect my body, drug free, and soul. And I actually believe in love.

I had to change some stuff around a little. Anyway, I am now taking 750 mg of depakote, low dosage of wellbutrine, 40 mg of celexa and quit my resperidol about 1.5 mo. ago--my positive psychotic symptoms are in remission however my negative symptoms (lethargy) are QUITE intense. I have been somewhat stable now for a couple of years--stable meaning no more panic attacks, suicide, self-hurt. I have thoughts of suicide everynow and then but something inside, some spark really won't let me consider it seriously. I really really really really really REALLY want to live. I love when I'm somewhat normal looking and acting and I have a pleasant look on my face, people hold doors for you and smile and are very warm and loving. When it looks like you're in pain and full of HATE people are soooo uncomfortable. I never realized that until I became stable--
Anyway sorry this is so long, I could talk about myself all night (except that its quarter to 7 am : ) ) but i'll save more for later if i find people are interested
some things i'de like to discuss later are
1) family reactions to illness--should i expect support from my boyfriend?
2) what can i expect in terms of going back to school with this illness? I want med school but stress nullifies my meds--
3) how to combat lethargy?
thanks so much for being here you guys! laural

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION » laural

Posted by Rzip on October 19, 2000, at 7:37:30

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

> WOW! Words can not express the amount of admiration I have for you after reading through your autobiography. What courage to have made it to this point. Wow! I wish you the best. I truly do. Wow, your story is just amazing.

- Rzip


I wrote this for my Psych of Personality class before I dropped out this sem. so thought i'de introduce myself by opening with this. I've always been skittish about posting poetry because some day i hope to actually put some poems in a book, chapbook whatever. some that i may consider have been published various places--but i have to say, reading this site has impressed me considerably--the truth trust respect and intellect all combined is, uh. . .neat ; ) so i'll think about poems maybe to add later--
>
> My mother claims to know the moment of my conception and has made it known to me that I was born out of love and wanted. Knowing this has kept me alive for almost twenty-five years. I was a bicentennial baby; born on February 2nd--Groundhog’s Day. If said rodent supposedly sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. If it doesn’t, then winter is supposed to end “soon.” I had fun trying to predict the season’s end as a child. Maybe it wasn’t fun as much as much as superstition and then finally obsession. I would go the entire day not looking down for fear that I would prolong the cold miserable days that claimed me as their poster child. It dawned on me a few years ago that after Feb. 2nd winter will always end “soon” because spring officially starts about six weeks later. I stopped trying not to see my shadow.
> My parents were hippies, I suppose, although not those “far out” bead-wearing, holistic healing, keeping their child with leukemia away from medical doctors, wheat grass drinking freaks. They did drugs, ran with intellectuals, moved back to the land, and kept politically liberal. I was not raised in a commune but our neighborhood was entirely liberal and networked. They set up a neighborhood school which I attended until I went to kindergarten in the nearest small town. I could read and write by age 3. At this time my father went to see a spiritualist and was told that in order to heal himself he must abandon his present life, wherefore he divorced my mother and left for Mexico. We didn’t hear from him for a year. My mother never said anything derogatory about my father, assured me that he still loved me and always supported the times that he and I did spend together in my youth. I can’t really say the same about my father. I still call my father “daddy” today, although I wonder why. I mean, why not something more grown-up like “dad.” When dad did come back, he wanted to take me to Mexico. Over the next few years, back and forth from travels with dad, I learned Spanish, got lice, fell in love with the ocean, and was repeatedly molested by a so-called friend of dad’s.
> At about this age I first remember wanting to kill myself to see what it would be like to be dead. I must’ve heard about the concept of heaven somewhere, although our family was not religious. I think I wondered if I would become a ghost. The reason I did not kill myself then was because I knew that my mother would be very sad and miss me.
> Over the years my relationship with my father was sporadic. When I spent time with him it was usually after waiting for him for four or five hours to pick me up and then following him around while he ran errands. My most vivid memories of him are actually trying to find him in hardware stores after waiting for him in the car. In therapy my senior year of high school, while dealing with my sexual abuse and mistrust of men, I also spent some time dealing with fear of abandonment.
> My relationship with my father now is good, I think. He’s not really so much a father as an adult who’s really interested in me. We have some good talks. We’re very much alike. Flaky, intellectual, shy, and kind. I know he loves me very much.
> By second grade I was ready to drop out of school. I was sent to the principal’s office so much that I think they were thinking of putting me in some kind of special ed class. Talking to my teacher my mother realized how limiting the class was and how limited my teacher was. She gave me a book about introductory astronomy and told me that when I finished assignments and got bored, instead of getting sent to the principal, if I read that book, she would send me to another school for 3rd grade. I read that book cover to cover a dozen times and enrolled in parochial school in Boonville a year later. I became very interested in God but not particularly interested in becoming Catholic so I sat out communion every Tuesday and Thursday morning. At night before bed, my mother would read me Lord of the Rings and teach me long division.
> From age 5 to 16 my mother lived with and eventually married Ken, and cared for his two children every summer when they would visit from Alaska. Ken did not love me or make any effort to be a part of my life other than to discipline me. He obviously loved his children and for that I hated them. I spent my summers away from the house, away from my step brother and sister thinking that I could talk to trees and dogs with ESP and that my stuffed animals were sentient and watched me and that angels were everywhere, protecting me. The journal I kept religiously until I graduated high school was my best friend. I made myself secret forts and spent hours there. Dinner was whatever mom or Ken wanted to eat. Being a child, I hated most things they liked but there was a rule instated by Ken that we must take some of everything and we must eat it all. Therefore, to retaliate, I refused to eat or couldn’t eat. Somehow even if I was hungry or really trying to swallow my throat would just close up and I would gag. I sat alone for hours after everyone else had left the table. I was anorexic at age 16. I also danced (ballet and modern) and was thus hypoglycemic. Ken had an affair my sophomore year which ended their marriage and made my mom the happy woman she is today.
> Through junior high I was a shy nerd. I could barely speak to people without passing out, and made straight A’s. Boys in my class would tease me about having no breasts and other sexual harassment. The real inspiration for trying to become one of the “cool” kids was a crush I had on a popular boy. I was successful largely because at about the 8th grade we moved up from poor to middle class with Ken’s new job. Then I got contacts, etc. etc.
> In high school I was introduced to people, guys, who were intellectuals. They were “alternative” which was a precursor to grunge which was a precursor to punk. They played guitar, they smoked pot, wrote poetry, and they were artists. I fell in love with them all. My hundred dollar outfits became two dollar thrift store specials. Priorities changed, although I still seemed like I was one of the cool kids. I didn’t know that I had been tracked into honors classes. I didn’t know that the real cool kids were preps. Or I didn’t really care. I laughed at them for being so junior high. And I began writing for others.
> About this time I remember my paranoia started getting really bad. I always thought there were cameras in the public bathrooms but now there was a camera in my showerhead at home and the mirror was two-way, so I made faces into it to let "them" know that I knew that they were watching. I could make people's heads explode with my mind if I ever decided I wanted to, and burn trees and buildings with my eyes.
> I was still being sexually harassed. I just didn’t have any self esteem. I fell in love with a guy a year older than me who was bipolar and wanted to have sex with him. But something told me that this would be a traumatic event for me and I didn’t want to end up hating him so I started going out with another guy who wasn’t as intimidating. We had sex spring break of my senior year. It was well-planned. For years after that the stress of having sex would bring on a hypoglycemic attack that freaked out my lovers and made me secretly glad that I was scaring them.
> I was accepted to Reed College in Portland, Oregon with a free ride. So I bleached my long hair white, dyed it a light silver purple (with old lady hair dye) and left. Something told me to try physics again as I couldn’t remember a thing from high school physics due to a guy bringing me to tears everyday talking about good I must be to f@!*& because I danced and how small a penis my boyfriend had and how it felt to have anal sex. Anyway I changed my intended major from biochemistry to physics. I made good grades my first year, gained 30 pounds, became bullemic, and tried acid for the first time. By the second year it was cough syrup, minithins, heroin, cocaine, extasy and anything else. I also slept around a lot, trying to teach myself to not be scared of men. I thought I might be gay, then decided I wasn’t. During the 2nd year I made it to class about 1/3 of the time and made my first C. I had intense mood changes, saw things and heard things, spent lots of money, cried all the time and pretty much decided I needed to stop living because I couldn’t stand myself. It hurt to think. I started seeing the school counselor who for some reason thought I needed anti psychotics. It turns out I did. (I’ve been paranoid since I was little and at this point, aside from hallucinating, I thought people could read my mind and everyone was watching me everywhere I went.) I also needed antidepressants and Depakote (We learned this after starting Zoloft and climbed the walls 24-7. I took a medical leave of absence to get this all sorted out. A year later I was officially diagnosed “schizo-effective bipolar”.
> Since high school I had developed a network of friends across the country from people I knew in high school who went away and new friends I met during the summers back, who drifted around, staying at various friends houses. When I dropped out of school, I became in effect, homeless. I refused my family’s help. I tried to take medications but somehow I always sabotaged my efforts. It got pretty bad. I raved for a good year and a half. One night on cocaine, I was raped. Then, after my first suicide attempt (slitting my wrists) and I was hospitalized, I let my mom intercede. They experimented with my medications forever while I prayed each night that I would wake up dead the next day because it hurt so much not to care that much about anything. It was physically painful. I spent an entire summer asleep. The side effects were sometimes enough to drive one insane. Finally, it got better. I started a long-term relationship. We got engaged. I wanted to go back to school. So I left for Reed. I freaked out at the stress. I couldn’t get up in the morning so I started doing coke to stay up all night so that I would be awake to go to class. Of course it failed. I lost it and cut my wrists again, not knowing that the muscle relaxants that I overdosed on would only turn me to mush. But this time I realized how it would kill my parents and called for help. I tried to keep it secret from my mother but she found out and flew up and got me. I waited another year, getting better under the roof and support of my mother. I decided to compile my autobiography in poetry form.
> Meanwhile I had quit my engagement and started the relationship I am now in. I keep changing so drastically. I don’t consider myself “punk” anymore. After years of not being able to hold a job and wondering if my mother would take care of me until she died, I started working, selling jewelry. It was stressful, but I maintained. Tentatively, I enrolled myself at ------- and changed my major to psychology. It was close to home and not as demanding of a school as Reed. I had many minor breakdowns, missed a lot of class, but finished the year. I still have my job at Zales. I freaked out the first week of school this year, but this is a new week. If I graduate, I will consider trying to get my doctorate in psychiatry, which means I need to raise my stress tolerance to acomidate medical school. After living for a year and a half with my boyfriend, I still question my independence but I don’t feel nearly the extent of intimidation I felt as a child around people. And I no longer fear for my psychological safety with men. I respect my body, drug free, and soul. And I actually believe in love.
>
> I had to change some stuff around a little. Anyway, I am now taking 750 mg of depakote, low dosage of wellbutrine, 40 mg of celexa and quit my resperidol about 1.5 mo. ago--my positive psychotic symptoms are in remission however my negative symptoms (lethargy) are QUITE intense. I have been somewhat stable now for a couple of years--stable meaning no more panic attacks, suicide, self-hurt. I have thoughts of suicide everynow and then but something inside, some spark really won't let me consider it seriously. I really really really really really REALLY want to live. I love when I'm somewhat normal looking and acting and I have a pleasant look on my face, people hold doors for you and smile and are very warm and loving. When it looks like you're in pain and full of HATE people are soooo uncomfortable. I never realized that until I became stable--
> Anyway sorry this is so long, I could talk about myself all night (except that its quarter to 7 am : ) ) but i'll save more for later if i find people are interested
> some things i'de like to discuss later are
> 1) family reactions to illness--should i expect support from my boyfriend?
> 2) what can i expect in terms of going back to school with this illness? I want med school but stress nullifies my meds--
> 3) how to combat lethargy?
> thanks so much for being here you guys! laural

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION

Posted by Christina on October 19, 2000, at 7:41:14

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

Laurel: Thanks for your post. It is probably therapeutic for you write your feelings like that. I never seem to be able to sit long enough to get my thoughts out.
Anyway, I can't answer all of your questions, but I do admire your desire to go back to school. However, I have found that stress triggers ugly things in me, so I haven't been able to do much more than barely squeak by with work, school etc.
My one recommendation would be to get your med situation stablized then gradually see how you react to stress. With the correct meds and support from your boyfriend and family, you might find that you are able to go back to school and succeed.
Good luck!

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION » laural

Posted by Greg on October 19, 2000, at 9:29:54

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

laural,

Wanted to say welcome to Babble and tell you that I always think it takes a great deal of courage to share your story with others. The ability to do that should be a positive affirmation for you.


> 1) family reactions to illness--should i expect support from my boyfriend?

You should expect support from your family especially your SO. Whether you get it or not is questionable. Some people do, some don't. My experience is that the more educated my friends and family are, the more comfortable and supportive they are. I've downloaded websites and given them books to read about my illness and that has really helped. Education is a powerful tool.

> 2) what can i expect in terms of going back to school with this illness? I want med school but stress nullifies my meds--

Take baby steps, know your limitations and let people you trust know what they are. If you have a counselor, perhaps discussing this with him/her in advance might help. Also, check to see if your college has any depression support groups. I can assure you that you are not the only one there with this type of problem, use your resources. I'm sure your college has had to deal with issues like this before and may have resources available that you are not aware of.

> 3) how to combat lethargy?

I wish I had advice for this one. I am lethargic too, or maybe mine is more fatigue related. I am Bipolar II. I recently started Zyprexa and Neurontin which really seem to be helping with my symptoms (rapid cycling, mood swings, rage) but I'm still pretty fatigued. I also have Insomnia which doesn't help. I take a lot of vitamins, b-6 is an excellent one, and drink a lot of OJ which helps but certainly isn't the cure. I'm hoping that an "activator" like Wellbutrin can be added once my body aclimates to my new meds.

And ask a lot of question here! There are some very intelligent and informed people at this site many who have gone thru what you are and really help you out.

I'll be wishing you the best and please let us know how things go for you.

Peace,
Greg

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION

Posted by noa on October 19, 2000, at 15:35:45

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION » laural, posted by Greg on October 19, 2000, at 9:29:54

Wow, Laurel,

Your writing is wonderful. Thanks for sharing your story with us.

I agree about the baby steps. Your life has been marked by sudden changes and turns, and perhaps you need to make stability the priority, even if it means taking longer to achieve some goals. In other words, use caution before jumpting into a stressful committment.

Perhaps, also, consulting with a good career counselor would be helpful, to help you look at options for working toward your goals while also taking good care of yourself.

You should be able to expect support from family and boyfreind, but you cannot control whether they are able to give it. Perhaps working with your counselor/therapist to define your "must haves" and "want to haves" in terms of support, could help, as well as discussing how to let loved ones know what your needs are, and how to deal with their reactions.

Don't rush yourself. You are going in a good direction, and staying in that direction is far more important than going fast. And, from your history, you know how easy it is to get off track. And, you describe how much you have suffered during those setbacks.

You might want to pose some medication questions on the other psycho-babble page--ie the "original" PB, where meds are more the focus. There are a lot of smart caring people who have educated themselves about all kinds of medications, and who are willing to share their knowledge.

Welcome.

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION reply

Posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 16:59:30

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION » laural, posted by Greg on October 19, 2000, at 9:29:54

> laural,
>
> Wanted to say welcome to Babble

Thank you all so much for your attention! I'm addicted to this site now, i never realized how starved i was for someone to talk to about my problems without freaking people out. My one good friend is 2,000 miles away so i get to call her but--this is so nice. i joined a support group a long time ago in Realworld and it added more stress than helping. this teenage girl latched onto me immediatly--she was a very sweet girl and i cared for her, but she demanded much attention to the point where i never got any sleep at night because she would call me up randomly and threaten suicide or indirectly ask me if i thought she'd be cooler by taking drugs or dying her hair green. It just got to be too much responsibility and i guess i did to her what all my friends did to me--left. i'm not sure to what extent i should involve myself, i have to save myself from company detrimental to me. But this group seems really healthy. of course advise is asked or given or commented on, but if i need a break, i can get away. does that sound cruel? anyway, thanks for listening! laural

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION reply

Posted by noa on October 19, 2000, at 17:19:13

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION reply, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 16:59:30

Yes, this is a great place. Sometimes it has its problems, too, though.

As for the "latching" expereince, perhaps you should plan to be cautious about keep the boundaries firm for now, ie, don't jump into having direct contact with people off of the board.

Also, forgive my directness, but you have mentioned being up all night, and that you feel "addicted" to this site. The lack of sleep makes me think, given that you also have said you have bipolar tendencies, that you are in a kind of hypomanic mode. Between that and the "addictive" feeling--if you haven't seen it yet, Dr. Bob has an "anti-addiction" button at the top of this page. I, myself, have gone through periods of feeling addicted to this place, because it became such a "lifeline" for me, and I really care about reading the ideas from the people I have met and continue to meet here.

 

to noa, thanks for the concern

Posted by laural on October 22, 2000, at 2:10:12

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION reply, posted by noa on October 19, 2000, at 17:19:13

actually i'm getting a lot of sleep--too much, i can't seem to stay up for more than a few hours and i think its related to stress--i can get up if there is absolutely no pressure to do anything at all, not even brush my hair. the strange thing is, i don't feel sad at all so i'm not sure i'm depressed. i'm not sure about anything anymore, reading all of this. it could be thyroid or meds or negative shizo symptoms, or maybe i'm just lazy. i see my doc soon. . .i just need somebody to step in and live my life for me--couldn't even go over and see dad because it meant driving 15 minutes uggh! i forgot why i was writing--maybe i'll try melatonin to try and get my days and nights straight again laural

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION

Posted by stellajones on May 13, 2004, at 22:17:04

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

I have ADD and read your bio twice. You write beautifully. I'd buy your book. I wish you VERY well.

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION so interesting » laural

Posted by firenrain on May 14, 2004, at 12:13:13

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

I enjoyed reading your intro. Sounds like you have lead an unusual and facinating life. I am sorry you've gone through so much pain. I think the most interesting people throughout history are the ones who think outside of the box and have been able to see so much of life from a different perspective. I hope that your writing can bring positive and good things to you and somehow turn the negative aspects into assets. I would really like to read more. You're intro really left me curious to know more about you. Hope you are feeling well now.

 

Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION so interesting » firenrain

Posted by spoc on May 15, 2004, at 0:01:43

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION so interesting » laural, posted by firenrain on May 14, 2004, at 12:13:13

Hi firenrain,

I see this is a thread from 2000 that got "bumped" into the present. I kinda don't think that poster is still "on board." Just a thought in case you hadn't noticed the date and didn't hear back... :- )

 

Re: THESE PRETZELS are makin' ME thirsty ! » spoc

Posted by firenrain on May 15, 2004, at 1:03:01

In reply to Re: MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION so interesting » firenrain, posted by spoc on May 15, 2004, at 0:01:43

Beam me up Scotty, there's no sign of intelligent life form down here...tee-hee... Thank you Dr. Spoc. By the way I wanna be Krammer although I usually feel like George...guess that still beats *newman*

 

answers to questions.... » laural

Posted by ghost on May 15, 2004, at 11:37:46

In reply to MY OFFICIAL INTRODUCTION, posted by laural on October 19, 2000, at 6:53:49

Sometimes it's creepy when you meet or read about someone you can relate to so well. But not feeling so alone keeps me alive, so the creepiness is good in this case.

I wanted to at least comment on your questions, because I don't think I have any real answers...

>1) family reactions to illness--should i expect support from my boyfriend?

i think you shouldn't expect it but be thankful if you get it, if that makes sense. i was hospitalized last week for suicidal thoughts and urges, and when i called my bf to tell him where i was, i didn't receive much support. he called me the next day to say "sorry" in his mumbling half-assed way, and that he just "didn't know what to say." when he came to visit (only because i begged for some crosswords or a book or something), i gave him some info on depression, bipolar, and bpd to read. he said he'd looked up the info on the net, but took the brochures and put them in his backpack.

ive been out for three days now, and he hasn't been much help-- but i've pretty well shut him out of my life anyway. he's been better than previous significant others ive had... no one else has even bothered trying to talk or deal.

i hope yours is better.

>2) what can i expect in terms of going back to school with this illness? I want med school but stress nullifies my meds--

i'm in a similar situation. i just quit graduate school (after finishing out the semester so i wouldnt have failures on my transcripts)-- and did horribly dealing with illness and meds and classes. i think you have to expect to work harder than you've ever worked before. and that you have to schedule relaxation time. put it in your dayplanner. force yourself to take reasonable time for you-time to unwind. whatever you need to do, but don't forget to have some unwind time, even when it seems like you don't even have time to sleep. make lists. prioritize. include de-compressing time.

>3) how to combat lethargy?

it's hard. i've never really figured it out. i'm not sure if by lethargy you mean a lack of energy or downright sleepiness, but when i started abilify, it made me exhausted-- i physically couldn't keep my eyes open. i was useless the day i started it. i took naps the first few days and just had to take it easy. now when i'm sleepy or lack energy (which has been the norm since i started taking abilify again), i try to do what i need to do, but do the low-energy-requiring tasks when i feel at my worst. stuff i can do that wil keep me focused, but still. (for me if i focus my mind, i can usually complete a tast, but if you pair it with walking or moving around a lot, i get too exhausted to even think straight).

it's nice to meet you. i look forward to talking to you more online.

 

Re: answers to questions.... » ghost

Posted by spoc on May 15, 2004, at 12:44:42

In reply to answers to questions.... » laural, posted by ghost on May 15, 2004, at 11:37:46

> it's nice to meet you. i look forward to talking to you more online.

-----
Hi ghost!

Maybe you cross-posted with the last exchange above on this thread, but just so no one wondered why they never heard back, I was pointing out that this is actually a thread started in 2000. If you click on the first post, you'll see that date. I did a quick search and saw that the last time Laural posted seems to be around the summer of 2003.

Someone probably found this thread in the archives after doing a search on a topic, but didn't notice the date. They posted to it, which "bumped" it onto the current board. Actually, many interesting conversations have been reinitiated that way, but just wanted everyone to know that the originator doesn't appear to be posting at PB anymore.

Oh, and I was happy to read that your hospital experience was positive! I'm kinda behind on new threads right now, but hope you are still feeling better! :- )

P.S. -- ok firenrain, consider yourself beamed up! Now, which gallaxy shall we visit next? I *have* been in an alternate one for quite some time, so I'm ready for a change of pace! Tell ya what, you get some pretzels for the road, and I'll think of other things to bring. Some may even be more fun than pretzels! :- D

 

Re: answers to questions....Ghost Spoc

Posted by firenrain on May 16, 2004, at 18:14:12

In reply to Re: answers to questions.... » ghost, posted by spoc on May 15, 2004, at 12:44:42

>>>> Hi Ghost, I know what you mean about support. I have asked my family for years to raed adouy my illness and I think they feel a 2 page pamphlet covers it...ha-ha. My neighbors husband can tell when she is getting a little bit off and helps her. Wouldn't it be great to have someone who knows the signs and symptoms so you could get things in perspective before you are in over your head. >>>>> Hi Spoc, I have to admit I know nothing about star trek...I just read that on a bumper sticker and thought it was funny... I have read that most true *trekies* have a very high I.Q...Although I can relate to being in a galaxy far far away.ha-ha ...>>>P.S. still not very computer savvy.

 

Re: answers to questions.... » firenrain

Posted by ghost on May 16, 2004, at 18:43:39

In reply to Re: answers to questions....Ghost Spoc, posted by firenrain on May 16, 2004, at 18:14:12

common sense would tell us that NO ONE can be summed up in one little pamphlet, right? i dont' know why they try to force us into little neat boxes.

*sigh*

 

Re: answers to questions.... » firenrain

Posted by spoc on May 16, 2004, at 18:44:37

In reply to Re: answers to questions....Ghost Spoc, posted by firenrain on May 16, 2004, at 18:14:12

> Hi Spoc, I have to admit I know nothing about star trek...I just read that on a bumper sticker and thought it was funny... I have read that most true *trekies* have a very high I.Q...Although I can relate to being in a galaxy far far away.ha-ha ...>>>P.S. still not very computer savvy.

-----
For some reason I always want to let people know that, while I've admittedly never given Star Trek a chance and may even like it, that's not where my name came from. It was one of those routine, boring ways of picking a name, and I don't like it (sounds icky for any purpose other than being a Trekie, which I'm not). I want either a funny, cute or meaningful name, so watch out, I'm gonna reincarnate myself someday -- but announce it loudly in case I've made any positive impressions so far! Now, *you* have a good name! (Ya know, this just made me think of some material to post to KK in our Comedy Corner!) :-D


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