This is a repost from almost ago. I haven’t been very bloggy this year. I got bored I think. Or lazy rather. I respost this because the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m not experiencing anger right now, but excruciating emotional pain. And I feel so sad for myself that despite everything I am back here again, just like every year this time. Because bipolar cycles. That’s what it does. I feel like I’ll never win. And even though I have a wonderful support system, deep down I am truly alone (sorry friends reading here. You mean well and I love you for it. But it is true)
One of the many fun things about having bipolar disorder is that sometimes, no matter how diligently you take your meds, work out, eat healthy etc, you still go some shade of crazy. And I’ve had many things recently to go crazy about.
At the moment I’ve reached an anger. An anger about the fact that I take 10 prescription pills a day, which equates to 280 pills a month, spend loads of money to take the ones that don’t turn me into an overweight zombie, and am still cycling all over the place. I’ve reached a point where I wonder if it is even worth taking all these pills that make me dizzy and sleepy and mess with my digestive system and make my eyes go funny. There are those who say that if I wasn’t taking my meds, things would probably be much worse for me, and yes, that is most certainly a possibility, but there’s no way of knowing is there. I’m never stable for more than two months at a time anyway. The only reason I haven’t stopped taking my meds is because, if things go pear shaped, I have to start all over again, starting on low doses and working my way up and through side effects. I just can’t take it anymore.
I’m not suicidal, I’m not depressed, but worse than that I am in this hypomanic limbo where I am stable enough to somehow manage my daily life, but not stable enough to not fall apart every night when I get home from work. I feel a constant need to lash out. And no, kick boxing won’t do the trick. Exercising sometimes makes me worse, because I get more worked up from more adrenaline. I can’t listen to music either. I can’t focus enough to read and I certainly shouldn’t be drinking. I can’t live on Alzams because I’ll definitely get addicted. So far changing medication, again, seems to have little effect. Life keeps throwing shit at me, as life does with everyone. So what am I suppose to do? Bitch into cyberspace? Not many other options it seems.
I feel like the medication is messing with my reactions. I don’t even know how I would react off medication. Since I was diagnosed two years ago I haven’t gone off them. My whole life has become about getting the chemical cocktail in my head right. What kind of life is that? I want to be able to freak out and feel like everyone else. And even though I think all these things, deep down in my little heart I can hear myself, and everyone around me, preaching to me “it’s an illness, like diabetes”, “you can’t go without medication”, “things would be worse if you weren’t on medication”, “just ride it out”, “don’t lose perspective”, “things will look up again”, “stop focusing on the negative”, “don’t be such a martyr (that’s my own voice)”.
My response to all these little nuggets of wisdom?
Skrew it, thank you very much.