What do you do when live seem overwhelming? When the sheer weight of the responsibilities of your day weigh you down like a ton of bricks? When the thought of surviving through the day is almost more than you can bear? What do you do when life is just too much?
I feel like those are questions I’ve asked a lot lately and I still haven’t quite figured it out. Medication helps, well the Klonopin helps with the chest-crushing anxiety but that’s a short term solution. If they don’t figure out my medications within the next few months the Klonopin will start to lose its effectiveness and I’ll need more and more for the same effect. Next thing you know, I’m a junkie for benzos and that is not the road I want to wind up on.
I’m in the weirdest loop of awfulness. Every week my doctor tries to see what he can give me that won’t hurt a growing fetus (should one ever inhabit my womb) and won’t damage my fertility (which is already struggling as is) and every week he has fewer and fewer choices. The kind of drugs that would help me are terrible for people trying to get pregnant. And I just had to want to get pregnant right around the time I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
I don’t want to stop getting treated for the bipolar disorder because that lets the full crazy of my brain out of the bag and no one wants that. But I also don’t want to give up trying to have a kid because it’s going to be difficult for me and I need as much time as possible to make sure I give my body a chance to do that thing that so many other women do without thinking about. Not to mention, I’m supposed to feel relief from my symptoms while pregnant and wouldn’t that be a lovely change of pace?
I have also found that small amounts of alcohol erase many of my symptoms and make me feel just lovely. However, I’m afraid of that road because “one drink a night” can turn into more so very quickly. But at the same time I don’t want to sneer at something that legitimately makes me feel better. Having one drink a night will not make me an alcoholic - or so the professionals keep telling me - but I have such fears of developing dependencies. Especially because I’m using it, basically, to self-medicate and that’s never a phrase with positive connotations.
So what do I do? Well, I should get back into exercising and yoga but the Klonopin makes me very tired. I’ve started knitting again but my hands cramp up and I lose interest. I’ve ordered an adult coloring book and some colored pencils, we’ll see if that does anything to help. Because when I’m in the grips of anxiety everything seems impossible. Writing this blog has been beyond me for days and days and only now, after taking a Klonopin, have I been able to write anything. And even still, I feel like I’m writing this underwater - I feel like my fingers aren’t moving fast enough or precisely enough. I feel like my thoughts are coming to me through a crummy phone line with static and an echo. I feel drugged up and it’s not enjoyable.
My disorder is starting to show its toll on my relationship with Ryan, mostly because he can’t stand to see my like this day in and day out. It leaves him feeling powerless and inadequate. We’re going to see a couple’s counselor next week to address some of these issues before they can become real problems. Our relationship is fine and we don't fight often but it seems smart to get counseling before real problems start to arise. But it sucks that the most stable and sure part of my life is starting to show cracks because I’m nuttier than a squirrel’s outhouse. I hate being crazy. I hate being anxious or depressed or angry or sullen. Why can’t I just be a normal person already?
And the kicker is we could probably get me set up on meds that would make me feel like a real person much, much easier if I just gave up on having children any time soon. It’s becoming a more and more tantalizing choice but I see a fertility doctor next month so we’ll see what she has to say. In the meantime I’m stuck on inadequate medications that leave me with crippling anxiety and bogs me down with depression. I would give anything to just be pregnant already because that would mean I’m finally, really on the road to recovery and treating this stupid illness.
I just don’t know how much longer I can handle the ups and the downs. On my current medications my bipolar disorder is barely in check and that means I’m running up and down the spectrum of human emotion. I get anxiety that has my throat pulsing and my stomach churning and then something sets me off and I’ve got depression so bad I can barely move or speak. This back and forth is torture, especially because I never seem to land in the middle. I’m only ever anxious or depressed - there is no medium. And my brain keeps whispering that this could all go away if I just gave up my dream of having a baby, while another part of me whispers that if I can just hold out until I do get pregnant things will get so much better.
How do I choose between a baby and not feeling insane anymore? Seriously, I’m asking. Is it worth giving up a shot to have a child and maybe just hope adoption will be something Ryan and I can afford so that I can be normal and healthy? Or is it worth the months of misery for the bright, cute little ball of light at the end of the tunnel?
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