polycystic ovarian syndrome

Oh...yeah...great

My labs came back
I have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome
Wonderful

So I now being sent for a fasting glucose and insulin
Tests tomorrow

Can I just pound my head...
Over and over and over again

So which came first...
The PCOS or the Bipolar II????

Can I just scream! And cry?
So everyone can point to me...
And tell me I am going to get diabetes
Heart Disease, and strokes

It is all my fault!
Which came first?
The obesity or the PCOS?

A loopity loop loop loop

I feel like a loser
It is all my fault, right?
I would be okay if I just ate right

Having PCOS seems as stigmatizing as mental illness

I would say my womanly issues
Started when I was a skinny minny
And exercised like a freak
I didn't get my period, for a year
And thought I was just exercising too much.

I feel really angry
That having hypoglycemia
Makes me at risk for getting diabetes

It makes me mad
That everyone will point at me
And tell me I am going to have heart disease
Even though my blood pressure is 110/70.

Low Blood pressure
hypoglycemia

I don't get it

I just feel
like a tub of lard

I don't get how they will treat my excessive
Estrogen
With more estrogen
Last time I went on the pill
I became nearly psychotic

I am just so deflated

See....good people get sick and have cancer
Things happen to "good people"

See....I am not a person who 'got' bipolar
I "AM" Bipolar
I am something....bad

It seems the PCOS is in the same league
Whatever I did in my life, caused this
It is my fault cause I ate a cookie

Stigma is evil
I feel like this stuff is all my fault
I ate too many cookies
That is why my life sucks this much


I am crabby
A hypoglycemic on a fast

I am going to bang my head against the wall again

Did I sound angry?

My last post was dripping with anger
I wasn't angry with anyone really
Just myself, perhaps
And anger towards some medical providers
I have fired, long ago
And anger towards the sigma
of having a mental illness
And the additional stigma
Of being borderline
(I would never wish the feelings of emptiness on anyone)
And I had some issues with my therapist
That I have since worked out
In a very healthy way
Ironically

I did have a doctors appointment
Regarding my issues
With my nearly psychotic PMS
And significant pain
I told him that these things were not really
A huge issue, "medically"
But important as I recognized
That they act as triggers

He ordered some simple blood tests
To check my thyroid
To check for PCOS
To check for any evidence of RH
And most importantly he validated my concerns

Actually my doctors
Are really great
My primary, my therapist, my psychiatrist
(oh and my allergist too!)
Very patient with me
Perhaps it helps
That I recognise my own
Hypochondria
Caused by my own anxiety

All in my head?

Believe it or not, my recent journey has been a fight for life
A fight for clarity, a fight for peace and a fight for, perhaps, happiness

I have not always been like this
Some long term friends have been worried
That their emotional rock has turned to pudding
There have been times in my past
When things were difficult
But not this difficult.

I have endured things in the past
Significant trauma as a young adult
Overlaid upon a less than strong upbringing
Born with a sensitive temperament
Countered by a strength endured
From overcoming a documented case of PTSD

I recognized the genetic risks
That strongly seasoned my family
From both sides
And with that came creativity
And intelligence
And a amusing collection
Of close relatives that span the great spectrum
Of social, economic and academic diversity

I felt the mental kindling begin
Two years ago
I sought out the appropriate medical care
To enter into a spiral of frustration
That only be created by managed care
As only parts of me examined
By ignoring the whole

By psychotherapy-izing the Axis I
And medicating the Axis II
That “magically” appeared
At an age that most PD’s begin to fade

By treating the bursitis, sprains
Spondylolisthesis, and carpal tunnel
And wonder why I cannot get out of bed sometimes
And lets pretend that my irregular menses
That ranges from eight weeks to eight months
Is completely normal
As my PMS reaches psychotic levels
As all of my somatic complaints
As attributed to my “borderline” diagnosis


I do not doubt my bipolar II diagnosis
I am not denying my cluster B maladaptive behavior
That surfaces when faced with significant external stress
As I have always recognized. And joked about, my “issues.”

But do psychosomatic symptoms
Wake someone from a deep sleep?
Can my mental illness cause my uteral dysfunction?Did I also tell you about my hypoglycemia (65 after eating a meal?)
Low blood pressure, obesity and asthma?

My psychiatrist finally urged me to go to an endocrinologist
And agreed that the my high dose of psychotropic medications
Should have really taken care of some of my somatic complaints

I do not want to be in pain anymore
I am not a drug seeker
(Surprisingly. As my mother is a raging alcoholic)
Which can be proven by my stake of unfilled benzo RXs?
And my collection of unopened bottles of wine
Any drugs I may seek may only be a steroid injection or two
(This is significant when considering my fear of needles)

So I have an appointment with my doctor soon
Perhaps I can have basic hypothalamic, Pituitary, and thyroid tests.
And maybe I can ask for a rheumatoid test or two for shits and giggles
Oh wait….I am a hypochondriac
So this must be all in my head

GO AWAY!!!!!

I am fine...
Really
I am working shit out in my head
Okay?
Getting some thoughts down
Feelings out....

I am writing this here
Because most of my friends
Don't read this
I need to get this shit out
Because I can just explode

So...if you are someone I don't know:
I don't need you to be my friend
I don't need you to worry about me
You don't have to comment
Don't need to virtually hug me

I am under PROFESSIONAL care
Depression
plus
Trauma History
equals:
personality disorder

Go look it up
no...
Look up:
Borderline Personality Disorder

Nothing will ever help
I will always be like this
Leave me alone

By the time you read this
I will be skipping down the bike path
With a big old goofy grin
Thinking about glitter and flowers and crap

Go away

One more Day

It makes me sad…..sadder
No…..angry!!!
To see the drug ads, the depression info
The anti-suicide sites

“DEPRESSION IS TREATABLE!!!!”

The 200mg of Lamictal
The 300mg of Effexor
The 50mg of Trazadone
The 0.5mg Klonopin PRN

Therapy Therapy Therapy

Is it the hormones?
The jobs situation?
Grad School?
Money?

There were triggers, real life things
But those don’t really matter anymore

I have done all of the healthy things
I make deals with my calendar
Just make it through
One commitment to the other
Hold on until…
that lunch meeting,
that work shift,
the next doctor’s appointment
I dragged myself to my favorite art festival
Tried to connect with the colors
Without screaming
I had a moment or two
Beauty touched
Then EXHAUSTION

I’ve been so tired

It is so ironic that I had lunch with the doctors from the Psy hospital today
Funny how I was on a locked ward playing old maid with the clients today

Trying not to cry
Faking it, until I made it

I told my psychologist friend….
Friend? Supervisor? Confident? Advisor?
Of my new bipolar diagnosis
He interrogates me…if Dr K. (my psychologist…they are admiring peers of each other)
No No No…I say…the psychiatrist
Dr.K disagrees
“You are not bipolar”

I tell him about my new job
My anxiety about paying for grad school
Talking about interning in the admissions ward

I don’t tell him about the tears I have been holding back all day

He tells me to spread my wings
I learned a lot already
Do real counseling… he tells me
“Who am I to do counseling…?”
Just try it

I left….with a sprinkle of hope


My drive home
It is so fucking hot

Knowing there is more happiness
In the locked ward
Then in my own heart

Their families
Their children
Their Porsches
Their spouses
Their laughter

Will I ever have a spouse?
A healthy relationship?
A child (on these drugs?)
A functional happy family?

Will I ever shake this fucking depression?
In my dreams I am depressed
In my dreams I think about dying.

It keeps getting worse
It is like that day…..

I call Doctor K
I hate making those calls
I know he is still working
When the answering service answers
I know he is with a client
I just leave the simple message
“He would want me to call.”

He is so bad on the phone
He knows he is bad on the phone
The standard stuff
I can’t manage to go to see a friend today
I told him I would garden
I didn’t garden

He called me back
I assured him I was okay
I was reading a book
I was not okay
But I was reading a book

I feel so stupid to call
I am sure he loves those calls from
Borderline patients
I am such a fuck-up

Love Without Boundries

Can I give

Without taking

Can I love

Without hate

Can I laugh

Without tears

Can I color

Without boundaries

Can I be happy

Without hurt

Can I dance

Without music

Can I fly

Without wings?

Spinning and spinning

I spin myself around

I knit a force field

So I cannot be found

Circling and circling

I circle my thoughts

I hold on to hope

Your impressions I fought

Around and Around

I hide in my cocoon

In my own little world

From that I am immune

Breaking and Breaking

I break from my shell

My wings are extended

And my heart will excel

I Will Bloom

I will bloom like the blossoms on trees

I will to fly on butterfly wings

I will sing with melodic grace

I will dance naked in the moon