It's been a rough couple of weeks. We can't make the car payment and I'm seriously considering going back to having a day job to make ends meet. But I'm not sure I can get away for any sort of regular job. I guess here is where I'll figure it out...or not.
A week ago Thursday, my husband, Troy called his father to wish him a happy birthday and learned that his father's cancer is back with a vengeance and the doctors don't expect him to live more than a couple months. They have a complicated relationship and have just recently started talking and now this. I'm sure it's worse for his father than it is for Troy, but....Friday he called from work and said that he was feeling depressed and thinking about suicide. No real plans, just thinking about not wanting to be alive. I'm not supposed to tell anyone or do anything, but here I am, wondering how serious it really is, wondering if a plan was coming.
When they originally talked, his father didn't feel like having visitors and said not to come. On Tuesday, he called and had changed his mind. We didn't have time to find a dog sitter, so I just stayed home holding down the fort. It was a nine hour trip each way so Troy left in the evening to be there by morning. He was hoping for a nice quiet visit at the house and a chance to relax before the trip home. Not so much. When he got into town he called and learned that the pain had been too much last night and his father was in the Emergency Room waiting to learn if he was being released or admitted. The man was in so much pain that he couldn't stand to be touched in any way. Troy said that he looked a lot like his father (Troy's grandfather) looked when he was near death. It was very hard to see his own father in that condition. When I mentioned that we'd had a storm, he used that as an excuse not to spend the night but to come home that evening. I was relieved when he arrived home safe, but he was noticeably shaken.
We hoped that Troy would get in a day of work before we traveled to visit our sons, their significant others, and two of our grandchildren across the state. His dispatcher didn't have anything for him, so we knew it would be a bad week financially--one day of work just covers his health benefits.
One of our sons had come for a visit a few weeks earlier and had left some things that he wanted us to bring to him. I assumed that wouldn't be a problem, but Troy had decided that we needed to take the motorcycle and there wasn't enough storage on the bike for everything. He had gone out and arranged to buy a trailer, so we thought we had it figured out. On Friday as we were getting ready, we discovered that at highway speeds the trailer swung wildly behind the motorcycle. This wasn't going to work.
With his absolute determination not to take the car meeting with the absolute fact that we couldn't take everything we wanted any other way, we hit an impasse. I have no idea why it was such a big deal, and just kept suggesting we take the car. That just made him angry. Angry with me for even suggesting such a thing. Angry with our son for not taking everything he brought home with him the first time, Angry with himself for not being able to make the trailer work. Manic anger is anger like no other. Imagine a full grown man throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler and you start to get a picture. But of course it's much worse than that....
When we finally got going, in the Prius, he was still ranting and raving. Fortunately he started winding down before we arrived and was able to hand off the stuff to our son without making a huge deal of it.Oh, he mentioned his frustration at not being able to ride the motorcycle, but at least it was civil. That son's wife chose not to join us for a cookout at the other son's home because she wasn't sure how calm it would be.
We got to spend time with three of our four sons and their families as well as Troy's mother and it was about as calm as a day with family and a bipolar husband gets. We even stayed for brunch the next day and had a good visit with all of them together.
On the way home, Troy started complaining that the car seat was uncomfortable and that it was bothering his back. As a truck-driver he was used to driving less than ideal vehicles for long trips, but he gave in and allowed me to drive most of the way home. He was still complaining when he went to work on Monday. By the time he got home we had decided to visit the walk-in clinic.
Shots, pills, a note from the doctor for two days off work and we were home together for his recovery. He went back to work on Thursday and was in so much pain that he couldn't concentrate and had to come home around noon. Not wanting to have to find someone else on short notice for Friday, the dispatcher didn't have work and told Troy to recover and be ready to work over the week-end or Monday. He didn't get a call for Saturday or Sunday and is sure he's going to be fired, so I ask him to call and find out about Monday. He's told to call in Monday morning and the dispatcher should have something for him. It's not uncommon, but he's nervous and we really need this paycheck.
So here I am, wondering what I could possibly do to earn enough to keep us afloat while he figures out what's going on. I'm praying that God will work this out for us--we've seen a lot of that in the past and have no reason to doubt things will work out again. I'm never sure what my responsibility is in all this. I know that my availability at home is vital to have my husband working--he still has to call me several times a day to talk and if I'm working outside the house that can't happen and he'll end up quitting his job for one reason or another. Of course, he may lose his job anyway. God help me.
Backyard Feeder
photo taken through porch screen
Showing posts with label manic depressive disorder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manic depressive disorder. Show all posts
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
The Road to Happily Ever After?
If anyone thinks that this is going to be a story where the bipolar becomes just another pill to take and life will be normal, you're missing the point. This isn't about that kind of happily ever after,. This is about the struggle to live happily in spite of the obstacles by working together and making the best of things.
It's been three weeks since I quit my day job to write and I'm still working out the kinks. I know that this is stressful for Troy but I still believe that quitting the job was the right thing for me and for us and that I will be able to thrive whether my income increases or I learn to live on less.
Troy finally got in to the doctor about his heartburn and is going to be checked for ulcers next week. Getting in to see a doctor isn't hard, but the test he needs could not be scheduled immediately. Waiting isn't easy when you aren't feeling well.
Troy decided he'd like to train in someone new. Usually the company uses drivers who have been with the company for at least a year, but Troy is a quick learner and since he'd shown an interest he was assigned a trainee during the time he is waiting to take this test. I'm not sure that was a good idea, since the experience he had with this trainee was enough to cause ulcers.
He was assigned an older man who had some experience with other trucking companies, but who was having trouble keeping on schedule and using the equipment the company provides: a text tranceiver for communicating with dispatch, the forms used for keeping records, and the truck itself--which is a little different from what he'd driven in the past. Since the man came with the attitude that he knew what he was doing and wasn't going to learn anything from this young guy with less experience than he had--and since Troy is mostly stable, but not really capable of dealing with what he perceived as disrespect, things got interesting.
I got regular phone calls as Troy worked to keep himself calm and knew that he could count on me to help talk him down. I got a play-by-play of every behavior that seemed inappropriate--this man was nearly 20 years older than Troy, from New Jersey, and black. Troy is from German ancestry, grew up in Wisconsin and has lived in the midwest all his life. I try to explain that some of it might just be cultural differences and reminded him that this is a temporary situation.
Troy finally blew up, told the guy that he had been assigned to train him and that if he wanted to work with the company he'd have to pay attention and learn the ways this company works and that he could screw up as much as he wanted when he gets his own truck, but he's going to do things right during this training session or he'd just report to human resources that he wasn't co-operating. Funny how a guy doesn't just quit on the spot when you're out in the middle of nowhere with no way home but the one truck. When the air cleared the trainee had decided to play along--good choice.
Troy goes in for his medical testing next week Monday and is already looking into getting a new trainee. The man in charge of assigning trainers agrees that this was not an easy situation and that the next trainee should be more open to instruction, so Troy is looking forward to an easier situation.
I am happy to see that he is dealing with his own issues and finding ways to make things work. I am glad the company can see that he knows what he is doing and trusts him to train others. It makes me a little less nervous about his ability to keep this job.
This past week Troy was given a stop inside a cave. These are huge caves, but for someone with claustrophobia the fact that you are driving under tons of mountain can be more than a little difficult. The loading docks were built when smaller trucks were running and between the tight space and the claustrophobia, Troy had a hard time getting his truck exactly where it needed to be. I'm sure he was stressed out, but he managed to get the trailer lined up in the loading dock and get in and out of there.
That was Thursday.
He got home Friday evening and slept all day Saturday. I was a bit nervous that he might be sinking into depression, but he got up Saturday evening with a list of things he wanted to accomplish before leaving Sunday night. We managed to get everyone to church--it was Easter Sunday so our son came from across town--and we did a bit of shopping before our family dinner. We didn't get everything done that he had hoped, but we did get the stuff we'll need to do things and I can do some of it myself.
Sometimes I wonder why we set ourselves up for so much stress when we know what it does to us, but I think we need to stretch a little just to feel alive. So far he has pushed through every obstacle. I know that no matter what happens, we can survive and we will get through it.
It's been three weeks since I quit my day job to write and I'm still working out the kinks. I know that this is stressful for Troy but I still believe that quitting the job was the right thing for me and for us and that I will be able to thrive whether my income increases or I learn to live on less.
Troy finally got in to the doctor about his heartburn and is going to be checked for ulcers next week. Getting in to see a doctor isn't hard, but the test he needs could not be scheduled immediately. Waiting isn't easy when you aren't feeling well.
Troy decided he'd like to train in someone new. Usually the company uses drivers who have been with the company for at least a year, but Troy is a quick learner and since he'd shown an interest he was assigned a trainee during the time he is waiting to take this test. I'm not sure that was a good idea, since the experience he had with this trainee was enough to cause ulcers.
He was assigned an older man who had some experience with other trucking companies, but who was having trouble keeping on schedule and using the equipment the company provides: a text tranceiver for communicating with dispatch, the forms used for keeping records, and the truck itself--which is a little different from what he'd driven in the past. Since the man came with the attitude that he knew what he was doing and wasn't going to learn anything from this young guy with less experience than he had--and since Troy is mostly stable, but not really capable of dealing with what he perceived as disrespect, things got interesting.
I got regular phone calls as Troy worked to keep himself calm and knew that he could count on me to help talk him down. I got a play-by-play of every behavior that seemed inappropriate--this man was nearly 20 years older than Troy, from New Jersey, and black. Troy is from German ancestry, grew up in Wisconsin and has lived in the midwest all his life. I try to explain that some of it might just be cultural differences and reminded him that this is a temporary situation.
Troy finally blew up, told the guy that he had been assigned to train him and that if he wanted to work with the company he'd have to pay attention and learn the ways this company works and that he could screw up as much as he wanted when he gets his own truck, but he's going to do things right during this training session or he'd just report to human resources that he wasn't co-operating. Funny how a guy doesn't just quit on the spot when you're out in the middle of nowhere with no way home but the one truck. When the air cleared the trainee had decided to play along--good choice.
Troy goes in for his medical testing next week Monday and is already looking into getting a new trainee. The man in charge of assigning trainers agrees that this was not an easy situation and that the next trainee should be more open to instruction, so Troy is looking forward to an easier situation.
I am happy to see that he is dealing with his own issues and finding ways to make things work. I am glad the company can see that he knows what he is doing and trusts him to train others. It makes me a little less nervous about his ability to keep this job.
This past week Troy was given a stop inside a cave. These are huge caves, but for someone with claustrophobia the fact that you are driving under tons of mountain can be more than a little difficult. The loading docks were built when smaller trucks were running and between the tight space and the claustrophobia, Troy had a hard time getting his truck exactly where it needed to be. I'm sure he was stressed out, but he managed to get the trailer lined up in the loading dock and get in and out of there.
That was Thursday.
He got home Friday evening and slept all day Saturday. I was a bit nervous that he might be sinking into depression, but he got up Saturday evening with a list of things he wanted to accomplish before leaving Sunday night. We managed to get everyone to church--it was Easter Sunday so our son came from across town--and we did a bit of shopping before our family dinner. We didn't get everything done that he had hoped, but we did get the stuff we'll need to do things and I can do some of it myself.
Sometimes I wonder why we set ourselves up for so much stress when we know what it does to us, but I think we need to stretch a little just to feel alive. So far he has pushed through every obstacle. I know that no matter what happens, we can survive and we will get through it.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Symptooms The Book Never Told You About
As a member of support groups, I have come to realize that there are some symptoms of bipolar that aren't listed in the DSM but that are so common to people with bipolar as examples of some vague symptoms that are commonly listed that I think they should be listed. I don't write for the DSM people, but I write this BLOG.
These are the symptoms the doctor forgot to warn you about:
The book might mention hypersexuality, but what they don't tell you is that a person with bipolar may not be interested in sex for months, even years at a time when in depression or on certain medications, but will want to do "it" several times a day in every position in every location, sometimes with every person or all alone or with pictures or video or prostitutes or....you name it.
The book might say something about impulsive behavior, but it won't tell you that a person with bipolar can take a perfectly adequate paycheck and buy a gallon of milk, forget to pay the bills, and not have a dime left. The fact that there may also be absolutely nothing at all to show for it is a bonus. Or perhaps there are many things to show for it--and the fact that you have the trappings of a hoarder delivered from ebay on one otherwise beautiful afternoon is one surprise that none of the books will prepare you for. The doctor would never tell you.
The book might tell you that depression involves some slowing of functioning--it doesn't tell you that your depressed loved one might slow to the point of stopping--I worry that my husband is gathering dust when he gets stuck in his chair for days on end and I'm sure the cobwebs coming out of his ear are not MY imagination. I know he is miserable, but if I don't laugh I'm inclined to cry along with him and we might never drag ourselves out from under it.
What the book won't tell you is that depression doesn't necessarily involve sadness. Sometimes it's anger or irritability or stomach aches or head aches or just falling asleep and waking up several weeks later, ala Rip Van Winkle.
And the happy maniac of the book is a rarity, with mania more likely to occur as anger, irritability (see any patterns here), racing thoughts, forced speech,little need for sleep and a sort of feeling like you are wound too tight and if you don't keep running fast enough the spring is going to sproing.(I knew there was a good reason for that fast track.)
Alas, the symptoms in the book, the symptoms that the doctor diagnoses by, are dull, dry, stereotypical and clinical while the truth of the matter is much more interesting and lively and human and scary and real.
These are the symptoms the doctor forgot to warn you about:
The book might mention hypersexuality, but what they don't tell you is that a person with bipolar may not be interested in sex for months, even years at a time when in depression or on certain medications, but will want to do "it" several times a day in every position in every location, sometimes with every person or all alone or with pictures or video or prostitutes or....you name it.
The book might say something about impulsive behavior, but it won't tell you that a person with bipolar can take a perfectly adequate paycheck and buy a gallon of milk, forget to pay the bills, and not have a dime left. The fact that there may also be absolutely nothing at all to show for it is a bonus. Or perhaps there are many things to show for it--and the fact that you have the trappings of a hoarder delivered from ebay on one otherwise beautiful afternoon is one surprise that none of the books will prepare you for. The doctor would never tell you.
The book might tell you that depression involves some slowing of functioning--it doesn't tell you that your depressed loved one might slow to the point of stopping--I worry that my husband is gathering dust when he gets stuck in his chair for days on end and I'm sure the cobwebs coming out of his ear are not MY imagination. I know he is miserable, but if I don't laugh I'm inclined to cry along with him and we might never drag ourselves out from under it.
What the book won't tell you is that depression doesn't necessarily involve sadness. Sometimes it's anger or irritability or stomach aches or head aches or just falling asleep and waking up several weeks later, ala Rip Van Winkle.
And the happy maniac of the book is a rarity, with mania more likely to occur as anger, irritability (see any patterns here), racing thoughts, forced speech,little need for sleep and a sort of feeling like you are wound too tight and if you don't keep running fast enough the spring is going to sproing.(I knew there was a good reason for that fast track.)
Alas, the symptoms in the book, the symptoms that the doctor diagnoses by, are dull, dry, stereotypical and clinical while the truth of the matter is much more interesting and lively and human and scary and real.
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