Some days it’s draining. Other days it’s indescribable. All you can do is hope to make it home to your bed and dream it all away.
I can’t believe it’s been over five months since my meds quit on me. Stability was something I had worked to achieve and I’m working towards it again. I’m seventy to seventy-five percent there. Work to be done in the spending department. Still feeling shaky in my hands. This angers me. My pdoc knew she was walking on shaky ground with the two meds I was on and I even warned her of the two prescribed at once.
(Yes, warned. You MUST take a proactive stance in any medical or therapeutic treatment. Know your meds. Know your ailment. Don’t follow blindly.)
She wanted to keep me on the two “shaky” drugs an extra month. I didn’t feel this was good for me because of the shaking and the possibility of a nerve condition as a side effect.
I ended up-titrating myself down earlier. This is my life and my body. Not to be played with by anyone. I felt secure enough that the other med had petered out and the new one was working well. Not recommended practice. It worked out well for me. Always titrate down. Never just quit a medication.
It will take a month to get the old med out of my system after being on it over ten years. I hope the tick goes away. You can’t see it, but I feel it and notice it when I type. This is irritating and keeps me from writing new poetry etc.
One thing mania has contributed to my personality has been confidence. Which I lost years ago. Failed relationships, verbal and mental abuse. I don’t want to go on with the list because I’m not in the mood.
Let’s be honest. All that crap adds to the journey of any person’s life. When you’re BiPolar or have any mental illness, I feel we are a bit more sensitive to the damage. Things are mixed up after diagnosis and we can’t trust our own thoughts or decisions. This is a scary time. You second guess everything. Is it me? Or is it my illness? You don’t know who “ME” is anymore in the beginning. All you can identify with is the illness. This will separate in time. This is why I say ‘It’s just an aspect.’
Stability is the golden ticket out of there. Something to strive for and is actually obtainable. I use the term “Remission” if you have to use one to describe something that can be triggered by stress, medication or life tragedy. It really never goes away. That’s the reality of my illness. Stability is my remission.
I’m almost there.