After having my meds adjusted last week, I went to see the pdoc again today. Changing from Geodon to Seroquel was not so easy, despite the fact that the pdoc said there should be no problem. For two days I was shaky, dizzy, anxious, couldn’t work and could barely sit up straight. (As an aside, no matter who says what, cold turkey is never a good idea. Taper taper taper.) This little experience has taught me to always listen to my own body before listening to the voices around me. Also that Seroquel is the unfortunate answer to my little hypomanic problems.
So back to today, bawling my eyes out because I am just too tired to face another day and then being told by my pdoc that I really focus too much on this whole bipolar thing. Mine is only mild and more on the depressive side (like depression is not excruciating) and at least I don’t have bipolar 1. And he sees loads of fucked people (his words), and I am not one of them. I am actually doing well. Now I can’t really argue with that, because I am not locked up in a state mental health facility chained to a bed. So yes, life could be a lot worse. But does that make what I am experiencing here, now, any less real, or earth shattering for me? No. In my frame of reference, this might not be the worse it’s been, but it’s getting pretty close. I’m not necessarily as depressed (touch wood), but my little trip into hypomania was almost as bad as it was when I was first diagnosed. So for me I’m pretty close to rock bottom. A more self-aware semi-rock bottom, but still. And maybe my rock bottom might not be as low as someone else’s, but it’s still pretty shitty.
Look, the man makes valid points. I know he says it to me like it is and not what I want to hear. And I know I can be a bit neurotic. But on the one hand you have people telling you to be kind to yourself, love yourself, take it easy, and on the other hand you have people telling you to put on your big girl panties and get over it. Life is hard and it’s unfair. I think this is what makes the journey so lonely; you can’t really win either way. People will always give you contradictory messages. You can’t compare experiences. And in the end you go back to it just being you. Not sharing what’s going on in your head and heart. You are still isolated, because none of us can truly understand what another person is going through, whatever it is. So we’re all lonely little beings wondering this planet by ourselves. Life is all we have, says the doc. Nothing, and no one else, really. Thanks for the good cheer, doc. That’s exactly what a depressed person wants to hear.
Yes, I have a lot to be grateful for. But that’s the problem with depression, isn’t is? There are no feelings of joy. Cognitively, yes, I get it. A part of my brain tells me what these emotions should be. But on the inside? I don’t feel it with my soul. There I feel only apathy, with bouts of anger. Mostly, I’m just tired.