I have been blogging a lot lately, and I think it’s beneficial because it helps me release the pain that I feel. Why do you write or blog? I am always fascinated why people write their feelings down and express themselves because it is one of the most therapeutic ways to deal with your pain.
I need some peace tonight. Today was a VERY hard day. I was awoken by a panicked knock at my door by my mom, “Please, I am dying, you have to take me to the Emergency Room.” My first instinct, (like all concerned children would do), was to get on my clothes, get in my car and take her to the ER and be by her side, like I did twice before in the past month. But something was off. She was completely irrational. She was having the most severe and anxious panic attack and was not thinking clearly. She kept checking her blood pressure and saying that she had no pulse. She was dizzy and disoriented and felt weak like she was going to faint. I wanted to take her, but something in my mind told me that they would not find anything wrong like they did the other two times we went.
You see, she has a stomach infection or some kind of virus/bacteria being caused by all the acid buildup in there. The doctor she went to for treatment is an epic fail. He gave her THREE strong pills for the infection and some Trazedone, which is for treating psychotics. The man is a quack and completely reckless. He wants to do everything in HIS office so he collects all the money. My mother needs a specialist, a gastroenterologist, someone who can see clearly what this is and treat it. What that idiot NEEDED to do was give her a referral to a specialist, (which means he loses money), and not guess and ponder what is the best treatment. The pills he gave her are powerful and are making her ill, not helping her.
I am a wreck. The bipolar is in high gear. My emotions are all over the place, filled with worry and concern and with some anger against this horrible general practitioner she went to. As she was filled with panic and worry, I prayed. I prayed for God to help her and me. I didn’t want to spend another 8 hours in the Emergency Room for them to tell her to go home. I feel like I should have taken her there, but with the way she was acting, my fear is that they wouldn’t treat her, they would lock her up in the Psych Ward.
I know my bipolar is hereditary, and I know it comes from my mom and grandma. My grandma passed away but was totally off the charts psychotic before she died. My father has tendencies too, especially with all his anger and alcoholism.
I have never been more scared. I literally shut down and couldn’t even bring myself to talk to the Captain, even though he finally broke through my wall and comforted me when I tried to push him away.
My symptoms are high. I feel a knot in my stomach. I thought I had this bipolar beat, but I can’t seem to handle it with crisis. I just sat there frozen as my mother had a total breakdown in front of me, and I was trying everything in my power to stay calm in my own head and not add to her hysteria. I just let her vent, I was a comforting ear, and I called my Dad for help. What am I going to do when my Dad passes away? I know my mom is going to be my responsibility because I have no intention of putting her in a home, but how am I going to take care of her when I am a bipolar mess? I am so scared of the future and what is going to happen. I know people say think of the present moment and not worry yourself with “what ifs” but I just got a preview of what life will be like if my mother lets her bipolar side come out. She is almost 60, and looks great for her age because she used to battle her bipolar symptoms with rigorous exercise. Those endorphins kept her out of the hospital. In this weak, crippled state, she is utterly helpless, frustrated, and feels like she is going to die and I am powerless to help her.
I am sending a prayer out to God tonight. I need to find peace that is why I am here writing tonight. I need to sleep soon, because I am going to take my mom to my doctor so maybe he can make sense out of the mess that was caused by that other horrible doctor. I need for her to get help. I need for her to be well. I am just praying he accepts her insurance because her main insurance doesn’t kick in till December 1st, and honestly, I don’t think she will last until then.
I am helpless, too distraught in my own bipolar head to give her any guidance or support. I feel weak and shameful. I need strength. I have to be strong for my mom. Tomorrow, my dad is working on our new house and my sister is going to work. It all falls on my shoulders to be strong and not let this illness beat me so I can help my mom. I feel depression sneaking its way in, bringing me down, and keeping from doing what I have to do.
Please God. Give me the strength to get through this. Help me take care of my mom by taking away some of my bipolar symptoms for a while. Give me peace so I can be strong for her because she needs me.
I have faith.
Dear God, Give Me Strength.