Brain Pain

I’ve had headaches and I’ve had migraines. But this phenomenal ‘brain pain’ I often experience is just another symptom we bipolarians get dealt. Yes, bipolarians. That’s a term I coined just now.

The ache is not unlike a migraine, however in my experience migraines have tended to be focused in mainly one hemisphere of the head. This feeling takes over my whole cranium, to the point where the inside of my skull hurts. It’s as if my brain is swollen, building up pressure that needs to escape. 

And no – Nurofen doesn’t help.

The fun part is that the brain pain comes packed with all sorts of free goodies including dizziness, nausea, neck pain, pain behind and around the eyes as well as tenderness around my cheekbones and temples. All they need to do is throw in a set of steak knives that can cut through leather boots and I’m set.

I’ve tried to pinpoint whether there’s a pattern, and I’ve found that it’s petty much anytime I have a change in mood. For instance during and especially after a hypomanic episode. Apparently this is also a fairly common thing.

The theory behind migraines is a lack of serotonin, the same as in depression. They also say one of the most common reasons for migraines (besides those caused from other known diseases) is sleep depravation. Maybe this explains why I tend to get them, or at least notice them more when I’m hypomanic?

Mmm… hypomania. More on the seduction of mania in a future post.

Happy Easter

Ups & Downs of Invisible Illness

The Ups:

1. If I feel like it I can fake being healthy.
2. I’m not on the receiving end of ridicule, sympathy stares or pity.
3. I don’t have to deal with rude or odd comments, or invasive, uncomfortable questions.
4. I have some privacy for my illness, meaning I can reveal it to who I want, when I want – or I can remain an assumed ‘normal’ person.
5. Others don’t need to know how insecure I am about my illness or about myself in general.

The Downs:

1. Most people assume I am fine and not struggling.
2. Others get frustrated and don’t understand why I don’t feel like talking, or socializing, or even smiling sometimes.
3. I’m often perceived as lazy or not trying hard enough.
4. Others don’t appreciate just how much effort it takes sometimes to get out of bed… and then do everything else that comes after it.
5. People with a visible illness or injury are more likely to be shown compassion and support.

 

It's all about me

(So I've figured out how to make a blog - Yay me)

As this is my first post I should spill a little about myself. I'm female, 27 and married... and I have Bipolar II.

I decided I needed an outlet of some sort. I thought I'd share some of my own experiences of living with my bipolar bear. Churchill had his black dog - I have a bipolar bear.

Sometimes when I'm laying in bed in the mornings he decides to lay right across my body, making me feel like I'm sinking into my bed, heavy like lead, and there's no way I can get up. I just have to lay there, waiting for him to get off.

Other times he projects so much energy onto me I can't help but dance around the house, rushing to get all my ideas out and trying to get as much done as possible before I run out of energy again. But sometimes, when it seems no-one else will come along on our ride, or I don't know where to go next, I get so frustrated and so irritable that I just sit down, rock myself backwards and forwards and try my best to stop the kicking and screaming going on inside my head.

So a little about me. Watch this space for more adventures of T. and the bear...