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[cowofdoom78963]

I think Im bleeding from the inside.

[Neonivek]

I think Im bleeding from the inside.

You may want to see a doctor about that.

[cowofdoom78963]

I think Im bleeding from the inside.

You may want to see a doctor about that.

I did the other day, but they couldn't find anything.

[Footkerchief]

At least it's an incredibly metal way to go.

[Solifuge]

I think Im bleeding from the inside.

You may want to see a doctor about that.

I did the other day, but they couldn't find anything.

Cow, what was leading you to that suspicion?

Spoiler: Clinical stuff, but kinda gross (click to show/hide)

Bleeding in the lower GI tract is a serious thing, but bleeding pre-stomach is less serious. If you were seeing blood in your feces, and it's red, that means it's something in your intestines, and that can get badly infected. If it's the rusty brown of old blood, then it's pre-stomach, and either signifies a stomach ulcer, or a cut in the esophagus, which is less likely to get seriously infected.

[Vector]

Gahhhhhhh

My brain seems to have overdosed on the happy chemicals, so even though I almost definitely am bipolar (being sent in for psych eval) and will be on pills for the rest of my natural-born life I am super-super-super happy.

I slept only 5 hours and am completely ridiculously buzzed, too... the sad part is that my mother is going to fight me over this, tell me it's just in my head, that if I live a restricted enough life with the right diet, exercise, and yoga it will just go away.  That I haven't been trying hard enough.  That I'm looking for attention and just not taking good enough care of myself.  That the medication will be bad for me and I'll die young.

This is the same woman who told me not to leave my drinks unattended in the cafeteria for fear of date rape drugs, that big business is out to kill me, that fluorine in the water will be my detriment.  That I can't have any sugar whatsoever because I'll get cancer.

I'm scared that if I ever get on the medicine, she's going to heckle me and try to get me to drop it.  That's the sort of person she is.  She'll bully me... I don't know if stable-me will be able to deal with it.

Though on the other hand, I suppose I suddenly understand why I tend to act painfully childish every 6 weeks or so    GREAT JOB, brain.  Really awesome.


EDIT: but you know what?  It's about to get a hell of a lot better, and maybe I can stop having these mood swings... and I'm almost certain I'll be able to get Rosewood back, too (though that may just be the insanity talking).  Hah!  Eat that, life.  I'm going to beat you.

[ToonyMan]

After a stressful day I am home and feel slightly better.

I can't think of anything to say.

[Tack]

Gotta say, Vector, don't think the drugs will solve all of your problems. In fact, once you're a diagnosed mental person (and I'm pretty sure it's something you'd want to tell a potential boyfriend, etc.) then it makes you Less desirable, despite the fact that you're on meds so it's all cleared up. Which it usually fully isn't.

Also. If you go on them, don't expect to ever be as happy again as you are now. You'll more or less go straight into living the average slight depression that normal people have.

However, on a less sour note:

Doggies.

[ToonyMan]

Oh right, drugs, meds, etc.

I don't need those.  I hate having something that supports me.  I want to be able to do anything without the help of others.

[cganya]

Gotta say, Vector, don't think the drugs will solve all of your problems. In fact, once you're a diagnosed mental person (and I'm pretty sure it's something you'd want to tell a potential boyfriend, etc.) then it makes you Less desirable, despite the fact that you're on meds so it's all cleared up. Which it usually fully isn't.

Also. If you go on them, don't expect to ever be as happy again as you are now. You'll more or less go straight into living the average slight depression that normal people have.

However, on a less sour note:

Doggies.

moderate bi-polarism isn't the end of the world and doesn't really make a person less desirable. My wife is moderately bi-polar and we have just learned to live with it. If she were living on her own then I would have urged her to seek treatment for it but together we are able to keep it under control.

its the people who go from top of the world, spending all their money to suicidal actions and crying constantly that really need a lot of help. I would urge them to seek help.

psych meds also don't stop you from ever being happy again. they do help "moderate" your mood however and that's why some people think it makes them less happy.

[Tack]

Yeah, that's what I meant.

'as happy'
'less happy'

That 'un.

Really, if you're smart enough, you can make sure you don't screw up when you're on a high. And once you've figured it out, it's pretty easy to wait out a low, because unlike a person with depression (the unlucky sods), yours is going to end in the forseeable future. it's a definite.

[Solifuge]

In an effort to further obfuscate the issue (I got ninja'd several times here)

Gahhhhhhh

My brain seems to have overdosed on the happy chemicals, so even though I almost definitely am bipolar (being sent in for psych eval) and will be on pills for the rest of my natural-born life I am super-super-super happy.

I slept only 5 hours and am completely ridiculously buzzed, too... the sad part is that my mother is going to fight me over this, tell me it's just in my head, that if I live a restricted enough life with the right diet, exercise, and yoga it will just go away.  That I haven't been trying hard enough.  That I'm looking for attention and just not taking good enough care of myself.  That the medication will be bad for me and I'll die young.

This is the same woman who told me not to leave my drinks unattended in the cafeteria for fear of date rape drugs, that big business is out to kill me, that fluorine in the water will be my detriment.  That I can't have any sugar whatsoever because I'll get cancer.

I'm scared that if I ever get on the medicine, she's going to heckle me and try to get me to drop it.  That's the sort of person she is.  She'll bully me... I don't know if stable-me will be able to deal with it.

Though on the other hand, I suppose I suddenly understand why I tend to act painfully childish every 6 weeks or so    GREAT JOB, brain.  Really awesome.

I don't want to confuse things when you seem to be just finding a course, Vector, but be mindful of self-diagnosis. I'm not trying to side with your mother here, and granted I can only know the situation by what is written, and what I can read empathetically, but are you sure that you're not just looking for an easy, instantaneous external solution in medication? A biochemical imbalance is only one of many possibilities, and though I am certain a pharmacy would be happy to sell you a promise of an instantaneous "cure", they never come without other effects, and only mask the underlying problem itself.

I'd definitely advocate looking into counseling/therapy, but unless they reccommend that you seek a psychologist, try not to get your heart set on medication. Beyond a doubt meds serve a purpose, primarily in cases when there is no reasonable non-chemical option, but be mindful that Drug Manufacturers are a business first, and are not expected or required to follow the Hippocratic Oath. As a business, their very survival is dependant on not fixing a problem, and rather on masking it chemically.

It is not that I feel medications are inherintly valueless; they serve a purpose as a last resort, like using a defibrilator on a man suffering from a heart attack. The problem is, that defibrilator will not keep the cholesterol out of his diet, and correct his poor health, though it will deal with the immediate consequences.

To speak in hypothetical metaphore, if someone can't drive a car straight, and keep getting into accidents, would you solve that by taking away the car and having them pay to take the bus from then on? Sure, it would prevent accidents by avoiding the problem entirely, but it would cost money, limit the person's options and freedoms, and most importantly won't deal with the underlying problem: the person's driving difficulty.

No matter what may be causing their difficulty, be it lack of training and experience, a malfunctioning car, or a physical/mental issue related to driving, that person can learn to compensate for it through practice, coaching, and other techniques. Sure, they may still have their difficulties from time to time, and heck, they might blow a stop sign once in a while, but that's what people do. We are imperfect creatures, of a myriad of strengths, shortcommings, and quirks... we are often overzealous about "treating" our differences and hardships such that we can forget or ignore them, rather than empowering ourselves with techniques and knowledge to tackle them, and in so doing overcome them.

**Disclaimer: This represents a personal opinion, given much thought as to how it relates to my own life and situation. As such, it may not apply to anyone else. It aligns with the philosophical tennents of Eastern Medicine (by which one treats the disease in hopes of restoring normal body function), rather than Western Medicine (by which one treats the immediate symptoms, such that the body can behave as normal).

EDIT: but you know what?  It's about to get a hell of a lot better, and maybe I can stop having these mood swings... and I'm almost certain I'll be able to get Rosewood back, too (though that may just be the insanity talking).  Hah!  Eat that, life.  I'm going to beat you.

That last bit sent up the warning flags, but more in matters of the heart than the mind. I've done the rebound thing, and forgotten the bad in the wake of a breakup, in hopes that it'd somehow work out, but that way lay pain and worse. My situation is not yours, but remember that the hurt you experienced was and is as legitimate as anything else you feel right now... don't gloss over it so lightly if it was a bad thing, and don't silence misgivings. By the same token, don't discount your present feelings either. Weigh both against one another, after taking them with a grain of salt.

[Vector]

Gotta say, Vector, don't think the drugs will solve all of your problems. In fact, once you're a diagnosed mental person (and I'm pretty sure it's something you'd want to tell a potential boyfriend, etc.) then it makes you Less desirable, despite the fact that you're on meds so it's all cleared up. Which it usually fully isn't.

Also. If you go on them, don't expect to ever be as happy again as you are now. You'll more or less go straight into living the average slight depression that normal people have.

I'm already ugly (or at least, that's what they tell me).  I have AS.  I speak in a flat tone of voice, am underweight, and have tics.  I stutter.  I dress poorly.  I hunch over, I rock, I speak incomprehensibly (better recently, I'm happy to say), I hop around and skip through the halls.  I'm violent.  I'm arrogant.  I'm clumsy.  I drop things and run into walls.  I constantly get lost.  I'm prone to fits of rage and cry when people change schedules on me too quickly.  Same thing for loud noises.  I don't like being touched.

So you know what?  I'm not really expecting anyone to love me, ever.  It'd be nice if someone did, but I'm not expecting it.  I'm expecting to die cold, alone, and friendless on a pile of proofs.  It's what I've expected my entire life, and I imagine it's what I'll end up getting.  That's not the concern--and it makes me sad sometimes, but not really depressed.

I don't give a shit about the ecstatic happiness, since it doesn't do me any good.  I end up happy for no reason, knowing I'm happy for no reason, and ending up needing to eat some 5 meals a day.  I can't sleep.  I'm irritable and bored with everything, and convinced that I'm some kind of messiah.  I hide that, of course, since it's arrogant.  It's delusional.  I walk through the math library, giddy, thinking that every textbook was written by all those great men just for me.  I laugh my way down the street.  I feel antsy and energetic, like I've been drinking caffeine all day.  It's a mental explosion.  But you know what?  It's there, and I sure as hell want it to go away... and no, it's not going away on its own. 

There.  Honesty.

Really, if you're smart enough, you can make sure you don't screw up when you're on a high. And once you've figured it out, it's pretty easy to wait out a low, because unlike a person with depression (the unlucky sods), yours is going to end in the forseeable future. it's a definite.

Intellect has nothing to do with it.  I'm sure you love fighting mental battles and asking your friends "Is it smart to go on a walk at 11 in the night?  Is that okay?"--every day of happiness, now and forever.  Impaired judgment means, by the way, that your judgment is actually impaired.  It's not a matter of smart, it's a matter of your brain giving you the wrong answers when you ask it things.

Yup, you know the depression will end.  And it's going to come back, ruining every moment that you're not hopped up on happy chemicals.  Over and over and over again.  The paranoia.  The terror.  The hallucinations.  The delusions.  The inability to eat.  The inability to stop crying.  The desire to kill oneself.  The panic attacks.  It's not something you can ride out.  It's a constant struggle to determine what is real, what is false, whether or not you know a person.  It's horrible.  It happens to me for two weeks at 6-week intervals.

You think this is pleasant?  Fuck off.




Solifuge: they referred me to a psychatrist.  I asked for holistic methods.  They said I need to go to a psychiatrist.  I asked if there wasn't anything I could do.  They said I need to go to a psychiatrist.  I waited a couple weeks and saw someone else.  They said I need to go to a psychiatrist.  Same argument, same questions.  They said I need to go to a psychiatrist.

I've had people telling me I needed to go on meds for a year now.  I resisted them.  I lied and told them I didn't think anyone was trying to kill me.  I hid everything I could.  I fought not to delude myself.  I asked myself and said "no, it's not possible that that could happen to me."  I decided I was stressed because of school.  That must be why I get stressed and depressed.  I improved my study habits and started getting 100%'s and top grades in everything.  I made friends.  I improved my eating habits.  I started walking around more.  I did what I could.

No difference--no, I'm sorry.  Through the years, it's been getting worse.  I did a back-analysis.  I listened to my thoughts from distant days past, all those times when I said "there's two of me; one is happy, one is sad, and they aren't the same person."  I remembered all those days when I woke up too early, and those weeks when I slept 12 hours a night.  I remembered all the times when I said "this pattern doesn't match," and all those times I swept it aside.  Kind of like all those times when I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on in a social situation, and I went "It is fine that I have no friends, because I am completely normal.  I do not care what everyone says about me.  I am normal and this is normal."

Are you happy now?


As far as Rosewood... there's a reason why I'm not even considering dating him for another year or two.  That is not a rebound relationship.  It is something entirely different.  It is a hope, against all hopes, that maybe things will work between us.  My personal belief is that things may work in a couple of years.  I am hoping.

I'm perfectly willing to leave him in my dust if he remains an immature dork with little sense of how to treat a lady.  If he changes--as I am somehow certain he will change--then I think that things have a chance of working out.

[Aqizzar]

I'm already ugly (or at least, that's what they tell me).  I have AS.  I speak in a flat tone of voice, am underweight, and have tics.  I stutter.  I dress poorly.  I hunch over, I rock, I speak incomprehensibly (better recently, I'm happy to say), I hop around and skip through the halls.  I'm violent.  I'm arrogant.  I'm clumsy.  I drop things and run into walls.  I constantly get lost.  I'm prone to fits of rage and cry when people change schedules on me too quickly.  Same thing for loud noises.  I don't like being touched.

So you know what?  I'm not really expecting anyone to love me, ever.  It'd be nice if someone did, but I'm not expecting it.  I'm expecting to die cold, alone, and friendless on a pile of proofs.  It's what I've expected my entire life, and I imagine it's what I'll end up getting.  That's not the concern--and it makes me sad sometimes, but not really depressed.

While I've never chimed in during past discussions of you personal life, I can just say this Vector, one hopeless person to another: You have no idea how wrong you are.  I don't want to say anything sexist, and I certainly don't want to say anything like the word "settle", but all you have to do is let love happen.  I promise, there's a mob of guys beating down your door, and while most of them are probably shlubbs, I've no doubt that there's plenty you can find something in.

It's not a comfortable subject for anyone to talk about, for me especially, but all I can say is, never give up hope.  It's when you do that there's truly no chance of things changing.  There's not a lot else I can say about the rest, heavy a subject as it is, and me not wanting to offend.  But you're not alone in anxiety.  No one is.

[cowofdoom78963]

I think Im bleeding from the inside.

You may want to see a doctor about that.

I did the other day, but they couldn't find anything.

Cow, what was leading you to that suspicion?

Spoiler: Clinical stuff, but kinda gross (click to show/hide)

Bleeding in the lower GI tract is a serious thing, but bleeding pre-stomach is less serious. If you were seeing blood in your feces, and it's red, that means it's something in your intestines, and that can get badly infected. If it's the rusty brown of old blood, then it's pre-stomach, and either signifies a stomach ulcer, or a cut in the esophagus, which is less likely to get seriously infected.

None in my stool, but I barfed some up and I could kind of "taste" it inside of me. It feels like it's all clotted at this point though so it's pretty good.