Fighting Fair {SMS}

In terms of family dynamics and friendships, I try to keep my cool. Try being the keyword. I am bipolar therefor am known to come unhinged. But I am going to be honest here. Bipolar Disorder is a bullshit diagnosis. I was once very pharmaceutical and now, my doctor has me losing faith in western philosophies. In fact, I am waiting on him to return my call and I am drawing a line. If he doesn’t call this evening, I will be in search of a doctor that knows what they are doing when it comes to medications.

Lithium[Li]3

Lithium[Li]3 (Photo credit: tankgirlrs)

Before February 11th, I was on Lithium, Amilioride, Valproic Acid and 100 mg of Lamictal. I started an upswing that usually happens to me every winter and began sleeping less, but still maintaining myself.

He added Calan SR which is a calcium channel blocker for high blood pressure and migraines. I never mentioned that I had migraines and my blood pressure is always normal. I know because I have an Endo doctor. My weight also remains the same. I hold water weight and my menstrual cycle is irregular. PMS (also bullshit, but it’s true–’Princess and the PMS’ saved my life as a young adult).

He then added 2 anti-psychs; Seroquel and Haloperidol. Since these additions I have been having extreme lethargy, paranoia, unrelated/loose thoughts. I started smoking again, binging on coffee and cheese. I am experiencing D.T. disturbances. I am having ‘night terrors’ and thinking family members are conspiring against me. My mom took over my meds and changed the code to the lock box.

You know what I think? I am a lab rat to this doctor. Throw me into a hospital type setting, dose me on high doses of anti-psyches that are not necessary and watch the downward spiral. You know you’re on the losing team when Death becomes more beautiful than Life.

My sister has completely removed herself from me. Invited me to an April concert and now has taken me off Facebook. The family is doing what they did to me in 2011 right before I chose to OD on my klonopin and Ambien.

They think they are so smart. That they are my advocates, but they aren’t. They make themselves my Nemesis and placate my “illusions of disillusionment” – full blown entrapment.

If she dies, she wasn’t taking her medicine correctly. If she dies than it’s suicide by cop like Chris Sqwireck. If she’s in the ER again, it’s because of her own unraveling, too many transfusions, too much IV saline solution, too many nurses and doctors ignoring her warning sign.

Haldol? I have had that at the Jerome Center, right in the upper right hip. The next night it was a different one because Haldo didn’t do shit but give me an hour nap.

Drive her Crazy. Kill herself… she was bullied. She was reckless. She was not right. Always wrong.

 

Fuck you. I’m firing my doctor tonight if his listening skills are not primed. I know more about myself than anyone else can claim and this is not mania. This is death.

She’s Speaking My Language

“I’m tired. Living with a mental illness is utterly exhausting and no matter what I do, it will never be overThis is for the rest of my life. When I pause and think on that, it’s still utterly devastating. I clearly have some work to do on acceptance…”

                                                                —Disorderly Chickadee

I am looking forward to reading more of this Chickadee’s blog. I was in the midst of doing so when these few lines she wrote struck me.

I was a real resistant patient when I was first diagnosed. I was resistant the first time around and even more so the second time around. You’d think if you’d gone batshit crazy twice, you’d be willing to go into treatment. Nope, that wasn’t me. I was difficult.

I didn’t trust my doctor. I didn’t trust that he knew what the hell he was talking about. I didn’t want to take medications. Lithium?? I have seen the people who are on Lithium, there was no way I needed to be taking that. Seroquel?? Are YOU fucking nuts!? An Anti Fucking Psychotic. Depakote?? I don’t seizure.

I’m not these people. I saw these people everyday in my pharmacy and I am not them. They have no quality of life and their families look almost more rundown than they are.

It took me a while. It took me a while to become fully compliant. I am now only taking Lithium, Depakote (they’re butt buddies) and Lamictal. I was relieved to see the Seroquel take a hike.

I am not one of these people. My family was able to get me help just in time and my doctor, as great as he is, believes the majority of the credit for saving my ass was timing and luck. I could have been one of those people. The person who’s not all there and would have to be taken care of like a child for the rest of her life.

I don’t know if he said this for shock value, if he truly believes it, or if it’s true or not, but if my brain breaks like that again it could be permanent. Whatever the case, it keeps me completely compliant.

 

 

That Fork in the Road

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth–

Excerpt: Robert FrostThe Road Not Taken

I couldn’t pass up the DP Challenge today. ” Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.

helping sarah

helping sarah (Photo credit: kat st kat)

Being Manic-Depressive (Bipolar) comes with a lot of perks and not so fun additives. I cannot speak for all and nor would I ever want to as it’s a spectrum disorder so none two Bipolar people are alike. They have the main categories: Bipolar 1, Bipolar 2, Cyclothymia (Also known as Bipolar Lite) and Bipolar Spectrum Disorder-NOS (Not otherwise specified). Not one is better than the other, they are classified by the severity of the symptoms, but that doesn’t mean that it will affect your life any more or less. To be walking out and saying “phew, thank God I don’t have Bipolar 1″ shouldn’t usually cross your mind. Some Bipolars experience their symptoms in longer intervals, some rapid-cycle between mania and depression or hypomania and depression. Some never experience a heavy depression, or one they’d consider to be that much of a hindrance to them. Some people with Bipolar 1 disorder never go from Mania to Psychosis in their lives. Some could, like me.

I go through stages and I think the stages will recycle themselves for the rest of my life. Anger that I am conflicted with this disorder that so many people don’t understand. The stigma that is carried along with Bipolar disorder. The people that claim another person is Bipolar because of a behavior they have like an explosive temper. I don’t think these people went to medical school and obtained their specialty in neuropharmacology and diagnosing of mental illnesses. Just my thoughts. I get sad; the whole “why me?”. What did I do to deserve living on medications for the rest of my life? Medication cocktails that will change time and time again because of your chemical make up and how you absorb a medication changes along with its effectiveness. Am I doing what’s right by me? How are these drugs going to affect me 10, 15, 20 years from now? Side effects like weight gain, possible diabetes, acne, water retention, kidney failure. Acceptance. Studies have shown that those with Bipolar disorder tend to be smarter, having a higher IQ which is only useful if you exercise it. We can be more creative; a lot of artists in music, writing, paint, design, etcetera are or were (if they’re dead by chance) Bipolar. Medication isn’t so bad if it makes me mentally feel like me. This is where we run into trouble.

The book I am using my sentence from was lying on the floor next to my bed from where I like to lounge and type nonsensical words onto the screen and publish them to see who will read them and what they will think. The cover and the back of the book have been ripped off, not because I stole the book, but because I once became enraged (anger stage) not long ago and ripped them off so anyone who came into my room and looked at my bookshelf wouldn’t see this self-help book for Bipolar disorder. It was a tad on the paranoid side because rarely does anyone come into my room. So I cannot produce proper credit, but if they ever run this line through a plagiarism site, may they understand it was me utilizing their help and not trying to steal from them. I’ve already looked, the title is not anywhere in the book unless it’s on some obscure page in the middle of the book.

 “It can feel like taking the medications is a big risk, but not taking them can be risky as well.”

The other night when I was talking to my mom about an upcoming appointment I have with my doctor, I mentioned something about not believing his diagnosis is incorrect, but that I wanted to know with certainty that I needed to be on the medications that I am on. That can be looked at in two different ways. It could be smart to know that these medications are working and they are the answer. It could be dumb because it could be the medications are working well enough to where I don’t think I need them. The latter sounds more on par if you think about it. The first choice could be very logical, but right now it’s not. That talk with my mom was more like a talk with myself trying to convince me as much as her that my disorder could possibly be a misdiagnosis.

This reason right here is the one that makes Bipolar disorder the hardest mental disorder to treat. Not only do the medications have to be right and tweaked for as long as we’re alive, but once we are good and feel stable, that’s when we want to get off the treatment train and live our own lives. We can talk ourselves into believing we are well and don’t need to be medicated when in reality we don’t even realize we are becoming our own worst enemy. We go off the drugs, spiral out, I personally always go up before I go down, fight to not get hospitalized, get heavy doses of whatever they want to give us while in there then they send us on our way when the insurance says no more or the psyche appointed to that hospital feels you aren’t a danger to yourself or society. I don’t want to play Russian roulette with myself or the people who care about me. Yes there could be alternative treatments, I may pursue them in the future, but now is too soon. My brain has broken twice, my psychiatrist tells me if it happens again it could be permanent. I don’t want to lose my family and friends, but I especially do not want to lose myself.

You do it to yourself, you do
And that’s what really hurts
Is that you do it to yourself
Just you, you and no one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself.. yourself.. yourself..

Radiohead – Just

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