Tag Archives: Health

Financial Help – Resources for Bipolar Medications

It’s been a while since I posted to this blog.  My anxiety has been high since just before Thanksgiving.  There’s  a lot of extra stress these last several months.  One of those stresses has been financial.

At Christmas especially the stress to buy presents and feed extra people increases.  When your budget is a limited as mine, worry consumes a big part of each day.

That’s the reason for this post.  I’ve found a couple of things that have helped me tremendously in the last few weeks.  One is a natural therapy for anxiety and depression, the other is financial.

Last July a new psychiatrist I saw in the county health department prescribed a medication for my bipolar anxiety which had a horrible possible side effect profile.

So I refused to take it and requested a newer medication with less side effects.  Of course, the county doesn’t pay for the newer medications.  They cost more.  So I continued to suffer.

Until, that is, I tried an herb my sister started to use for her anxiety.  Ashwaganda.  Sounds like something from Africa.  Maybe it is; I don’t know.  All I do know is that it helped a little.

Then I ran out of it and couldn’t buy more for a month.  The anxiety got worse again.  Then I bought more the first of November, and increased the dose to 1200 mg per day.

I haven’t had a seriously anxious day since.  It’s so much better I can’t believe it.  The bucket I had with me all the time to catch my anxious tears has gone dry.

Ashwaganda has evened out my moods and significantly reduced the anxiety.  I had the most restful and happy Thanksgiving I’ve had in years.

The second help I found was a few resources for financial help with medications.  Here’s a link to the resources that help millions afford the often prohibitively expensive meds prescribed for Bipolar and anxiety.

 

http://bipolar.about.com/od/financialassistance/Financial_Assistance.htm

Hope these help your holidays like they did mine.  Merry Christmas!

 

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Pain; It’s Personal

I know the experts say to make each post about your readers.  They say not to get personal.

But here’s the rub.  Mental illness is personal.  To me.  To you.  To all who suffer with it in all its delightful forms.  To all who love or live with someone with it.

Today is personal.  I suffered.  Did you?  Maybe my personals today will resonate with someone.  You are not alone.

Times are tough for me.  Stress is high.  The people I live with don’t get it.  To them, I’m just being lazy and irresponsible.

My kin doesn’t get it.  I was irresponsible 15 years ago, and didn’t pay back what I had used.

She’s right.  I was irresponsible.  My behavior, then as now, was not socially or financially acceptable.  But when cancer hurts and there’s no painkiller, you scream and write a lot and spend what you have on release, not duty.  You get desperate.  You don’t connect now with later.  ‘Wait’ is not a space of time; it’s just a ‘weight’ on the soul.

I don’t think she gets her own child either.  Genetics played a nasty joke on her progeny.

Now I need a job.  I look some, but focus is almost impossible and distractions abound.  The emotions partly born of insecurity, fear, worry, and loneliness wring out the last dregs from my cup of possibilities.  The first dregs got drained by my own duplicitous brain.

I pour forth detailed plans in monster waves.  They crash and foam and never reach shore.  I can’t carry them out.  Dust bunnies get in my way.  Dishes and grass clippings and expectations attack. Desire is legion, but priority is AWOL. I’m trapped; no car, no way to run, so few tools to help.

Insurance was nice.  The county sucks.  It’s not their fault.  There’s just too many of us.  Why?  What did people used to do back when?

Today’s last straw was just a pin-sized twig, but it broke this ass’s back.  It’s always that way.  Little stuff is seen through a magnifying glass every time.

I truly didn’t want to live.  I planned on it to help get me through, but it refused and now I’m limited to the struggle.  I need another shot of safety; just for a week.  I can’t stand the limits!  Not again!

I scream, I cry, I question and storm and beg for release.  I hate this pain that drills deep. I can’t filter out the pain of the past or the pain of the future or the pain of entwined others either.  It won’t let me go.  It’s always peaking around corners and saying ‘boo’ just when I’ve turned the corner.  I’m always ready now to jump.

Oh if I could snuggle!  Arms with skin on help so much if they are gentle.  The arms of faith have disappeared today.  I’m so guilty because I’ve seen them so big before.

So where is the glass half-full?  I dropped it and it broke, long ago.  The shards got stuck in my foot.  The liquid evaporated.  I should try I guess to levitate with my mental magic prowess the cup there in the cupboard over to the faucet pouring with water.  But today, magic doesn’t exist.  Does it ever?

There’s one boon today.  Satan was winning.  He loves to tell me that God won’t provide like He said.  After all, look at the widows in India.  They beg for their food.  Their husbands have died and their sons disown them.  Some starve and their bodies are thrown in the river.  Why not them, God?  Paul went hungry, cold, and naked.  Why him?  He was yours!

Maybe me.  But God said.  If the walls fall inward, thunder rolls, the mountains move into the sea, and fire rains down, God still said.  I don’t want to live this.  But God said.  I don’t know how.  But God said.  I don’t feel able, but God said.  I don’t get it, but God said.  I’m blind and deaf and dumb and burning, but God said.  So somewhere so deep even I can’t know it, I believe.

Win with ADD and Freelance Writers Den

Think All, Focus One

Think All, Focus One (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I am a writer with ADD, attention deficit disorder.  Thus the name of my blog, addrangerramblings.  That’s A. D. D. Ranger Ramblings.  I’m not trying to add to my family of rangers by rambling.

If you know anything about ADD, then you know that most of us are exceptionally creative people who have a problem focusing our creativity on one task or project for any productive length of time.

Also, if you know about ADD, then you know that sometimes hyper-focus can be a problem.  We get so focused on what we are enjoying doing that we can’t stop and switch to another task without major irritability.  At least I get irritable.  My son says that when I’m reading, the house would have to be burning down around me before I took notice.

The point is, winning one year of membership in the Freelance Writers Den is worth the struggle to focus, then hyper-focus, on this blog post.  It must be sparkling!  It must be witty!  It must be the anti-sob story of the century!  It must inspire such hope of mentoring success that it WINS!

Really, all nauseous frenzy aside, I want to earn this membership for several reasons.

First, having ADD, I need structure to succeed.  I’ve been somewhat successful providing this structure for myself, but learning opportunities like the Writer’s Den Membership resources provide are a major source of motivation for my chaotic focus-challenged brain.

Second, my goals demand immediate productivity.  I want to be a successful blogger and author who makes a living by helping others find solutions to their mental health challenges.

Bipolar, ADHD, ADD, anxiety, and depression are all things I’ve dealt with over the years.  I know how hard it is to overcome these problems, and I want to show those so afflicted that it can be done.  And done with style!

So whether you are one of my multitudinous readers or from the Den, check out my blog.  It needs serious help.  It needs your comments or your teachings.  It needs you to tell me what you need to make this site something you can rely on to help in time of need.