And the verdict is in…

Two weeks of hospital time is on the cards for me next week Monday.

My pdoc managed to squeeze me in for a session yesterday late afternoon. She was very concerned about the messages I had sent her over the weekend.

The images of her reminding me of a cat disappeared as I unpacked the heaviness over my heart. I sat in her office in tears, the whole process so clinical, but her voice warm.

I drowned in the embarrassing details of my thoughts and my feelings. She reminded me that this isn’t me talking- my feelings and actions are controlled by this beast of a disorder. I told her how I’ve struggled for the past while to look after myself, to feel anything cheerful, to enjoy my family or my writing. But nothing. I told her about my scary thoughts. The thoughts I had when I had my first hospital stay in March this year. I don’t think anyone is honest about these types of thoughts so I’ll keep them to myself. Just know that they are horrible.

I wondered if anyone ever felt like I did.

Besides that, I’ve been agitated and irritable. The suicidal thoughts are on the rise. I’ve grown so used to them whispering to me now and then, but now they come with impulses- possible details to plans. They come with ways I can escape it all. But what always stops me are the same stressors that put in me in the place: my family. Yes, I said it. They are a contributing factor. I think anyone with small children have some off days.

But what is it like? Suicidal ideation? For me it’s like standing at the edge of a cliff.

Knowing the jump will be the end.

Every now and then flashes of the edge and jumping spring before me. I walk to the edge, look down and turn back around. But when I’m going through a low, I find myself coming to the edge more often, lingering a little longer at the edge than I should. I feel the wind blow against my back, giving me reason to jump and false hope to fly.

This weekend my low was so bad that I had to miss my father-in-law’s birthday party on Sunday. I knew I was not going to manage my tears that were constantly bubbling beneath my eyelids and still smile and wave. So I excused myself and my husband took the children through to the party. While they took their trip, I took a guilt trip- further down into the abyss.

I told my pdoc about the weight issues I’ve had (and still struggling with) and that I take forever to wake up in the mornings.

My current medication is known for its weight-gaining effects and as they knock me out straight, I feel like I missing out on life. I can’t have a normal day as it only starts around 12. Then I have to check emails, write and then start cooking by 4pm. Throw in children, homework and a husband and you have the mix to make yourself go crazy.

She advised that we should change medications to something that is more of a pick-me-upper.

Something that has no weight gaining effects.

Something like a dream?

Let’s hope so.

I’ll need two weeks to phase out the old meds and phase in the new ones. It was a big decision to make to have me do it in-hospital because I know that this puts a lot of pressure on hubby. But the professionals prefer that you’re there so they can watch you. And this med can leave one restless for the first while. And with me being so impulsive lately, we didn’t want to take a chance. I could just decide to want to jump, to fly, you know?

I sent this to a friend a moment or so ago, “That’s how I feel: embarrassed and ashamed because I feel I can do more, be better. But a few weeks ago, I could. Now, I can’t do shit. I look like shit. I’m an overspending piece of crap crying over things I don’t have power over. This is my vent. Straight from the heart which I shall put in my post.”

And just like that I put it into my post.

She obviously gave such a great reply, I’m still teary from the warmth in her (typing)voice and the huge pat on the back I felt.

A little heads up: I don’t write for attention. I write for the me inside that’s crying away softly and for those out there who dare not say a word, afraid of looking weak. I also don’t always tell everyone in my life how I feel because I don’t want to be a bother. I’m also sometimes have this messed up theory that if I say how I feel, people may change their perception of me, or worse, they’ll think that I’m weak and my husband could have married a beta version of me. All psychological bullshit I feed myself and swallow, obviously. 

I’m sad and lonely and a few other things. But when my doctor told me the plan, a wave of relief blew over me and it filled my lungs with a dose of hope.

I trust her.

I will be fixed.


image source

16 thoughts on “And the verdict is in…

  1. roughghosts says:

    I hope that this respite gives you some time to find a more effective treatment. You need this time to care for yourself so that you can be well enough to care for those you love. I was diagnosed with bipolar 18 years ago when my children were 4 and 7. A horrific manic psychosis was the breaking point that finally landed me in the hospital. I was, at the time, in a much more conventional parenting role and married. (I would, ultimately divorce and transition to male, but that is another issue.) As much as you hate to think about, your children will process your illness in their own time. They may even throw it back at you. But as parents we cannot control that. We are not perfect.

    Parenting is a massive task and now I look at young children or hear other gushing about their grandchildren and simply cannot imagine that emotional or physical responsibility that a child demands. It exhausts me to think about what is on your plate without bipolar. I am actually working with a therapist at the bipolar clinic to learn to wean my co-dependent 25 year-old! You are fortunate to have a good doctor and supportive spouse. I had to fight with the mood disorder and the gender stuff for so long without any idea why I was so miserable. I had children in my early 30s to try to solve myself and ended up completely off the wall by 36. But the right support, medication and self understanding granted at least 15 years of functional stability.

    You are brave (yes I know, no one wants to be told that but take it from a fellow bipolar parent), you have a spouse and three children who love you. Keep believing in yourself because I suspect those who love you believe in you.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Yve's Corner says:

      I read your reply. And Blah’s reply via email to came a while afterwards. Both got me in tears. Because I see the strength you both have.

      I was honest about everything because sometimes I fear of what people will think. Some people look at my life, living with a nanny and a husband who will do more than most seems like a luxury. But they don’t know what happens behind the curtains. But do we all not stage the show people paid to see?

      I’ve been ‘called’ spoilt. Yet I struggle with inexplicable mood changes and medicine that don’t hold me for long.

      I battle psoriasis, hypothyroidism and a weight increase of just under 30kg because of long term lithium use.

      I battle issues with my parents, still, at my age.

      I battle it all out because I am not perfect.

      We are not perfect.

      RG, you’ve lived and still live such an amazing story. And yes, you may not want to hear that either. But I can almost hear your lived experience and sets alight this hope in me. You have freedom. You have your life. You have it now.

      Self care is the mission I am on. And I guess enjoying your life could be one of your missions now.

      Thank you for soothing an open wound.


      Liked by 1 person

  2. dyane says:

    Holy, holy, friend, I had NO idea when I saw this post’s title on Twitter about what kind of verdict it could be – I feel bad for whatever I wrote on my retweet. :0 I hope you forgive me!

    Please know I understand….I’ve been in the hospital 7 times for this disorder – it ain’t no day spa as we know, right? And we go there for very dire reasons.

    I’m SO SO SO GLAD YOU’RE GETTING THE HELP YOU NEED AND DESERVE – yes, all caps for that one; please let us know how it goes.

    This post of yours is mind-bogglingly, beautifully written, but I know of the great pain and suicidal feelings you write about, and there’s no beauty in that.

    Sending you my love and strength and thank you for being honest here – it’s a gift to us.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yve's Corner says:

      Oh my dear, don’t feel bad at all. You made me smile :)))) Just what i needed so please shrug that ish off 😉

      I know you can relate. I just never imagine it was possible for me to go there twice in one year!!! I feel like a bit of a failure you know. I’m glad that my new pdoc doesn’t like to take chances. I trust her. Well, maybe I’m just desperate. It doesn’t matter, I’m going to a new facility, where I’ll also get a psychologist (which I haven’t had since 2012) so everyone is excited about that.

      Thank you for your kind words my dear.

      My words don’t quite describe the pain. I wish I could just runaway from it all. I’m scared that the psychologist is going to make me deal with it all. Who am I kidding, she is going to. Best I just prepare for it.

      *jumps into sumo wrestler suit*

      Honesty comes at a price. Luckily I’m a big spender these days.



      Liked by 1 person

      • dyane says:

        Look how AWESOME a writer you are, even while struggling so deeply??? “Honesty comes at a price. Luckily I’m a big spender these days. ”
        An amazeballs pair of lines.
        And you still have some humor in you – that’s so good!!!! (i.e. the sumo suit)!!!!! I’m amazed.

        I hope you don’t mind my bringing up this – I referred a blogger to OLE today – she lives in S.A. and when I spotted that on her blog I got very excited because it didn’t seem that she knew about OLE. I liked her blog. I know you may not be at the monitor any day now, and I didn’t write that to her; I mentioned Blahpolar is also associated with OLE & gave her the link to the site – but then I wrote that she can get in touch with me if she ever has questions. Hope that makes sense! Her name is Kerrill Williams. OOXOXX

        Liked by 1 person

      • Yve's Corner says:

        Hey dear, I haven’t been able to read comments for a few days. I’ve been avoiding WordPress for the weekend.

        Thanks for enjoying my writing. 🙂 and my weird humour!

        It’s really stuff that sit in my head that jump at the opportunity to get out btw.

        Thanks for linking Kerril up with us. Hoping she wants to write for us. We have a new contributor starting on Monday 🙂 slowly but surely we’re growing.

        Thank you for all your love and support Dy. you’re an honorary member of our board of awesome members lol (if we had one)

        Liked by 1 person

      • dyane says:

        I’m sick today with a hideous cold but wanted you to know I finally read this and send you my love!!!!!! I’ll keep referring anyone cool I come across to OLE, of course, and my blog has your gorgeous Blah-designed logo at the top now.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Yve's Corner says:

        Hooooooppppppeeeee you’re doing better. My kids at home have colds too so hubby is battling that alone.

        Thanks for the support and just so you know I’ll be the first South African to buy your book. Xoxo

        Liked by 1 person

      • dyane says:

        Hey sweetie! I felt SO bad this morning when I read your (BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!) poem that my brain went numb & I was too exhausted to write. Heck – I will SEND you and BLAHPOLAR signed copies. You’re not buying a thing! Sending you big hugs and hope that the kids get better soon…..please post more. I promise to comment because I’m at the tail end of this cough/cold-from-hell. p.s. Your husband reminds me of Craig – they are both good guys – not perfect, mind you, but they’re good all the same.


    • Yve's Corner says:

      I hope that I’ll see it as Self-care. The way I feel now, I feel like I’m deserting people and letting others down. Again, it’s negative talk that finds itself into my brain.

      I can’t connect with logic.

      But this is a step I need to take for myself whether I acknowledge it as caring for myself or not.
      Thank you for your kind words Raeyn.


      Liked by 1 person

  3. La Sabrosona says:

    Mama, I feel the same kind of ugly emotions of being a mom with small children who can’t manage life’s tasks. I feel it. I get it. Children have a way of pushing one’s buttons and it’s not their fault nor is it ours. Bravo to you, querida, for recognizing you are not well at the moment and reaching out for help. Bravo mummy. Takes guts you know, to reach out for help. Far from weakness, it’s a sign of strength. You can explain to your kids, once you’re better, that one needs to do what is necessary to be well. This is something you do, valiantly, for yourself AND for your family. Much much love beauty and a speedy recovery xxxx La Sabrosona


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