It’s been a long time since I’ve updated this. At first (when the Lamictal was still in its early phases and not yet therapeutic) it was because there was nothing new to say; my days were varying shades of gloom and gray. Most days were bad, not the kind of bad that I had grown used to, but a kind of depressing, sorrow-filled type of bad. It was better than before because I at least felt like me and that is an important distinction from the other medications I have tried, but I didn’t feel I had anything new to say after my last post. Things remained the same, which is to say, not great. But I didn’t want to keep complaining about the same old problems with no new twists or turns. It felt boring and stale to write and I imagine it would have been worse to read. Also, I was very depressed for several weeks and I don’t think I had the energy to do much of anything except to keep breathing.
Then (when the Lamictal reached therapeutic levels and Risperdal was added), I didn’t update because I didn’t want to jinx anything. For the first time since before April I felt like a person again. For the first time in years I wasn’t plagued by anxiety in varying degrees. I felt like, and still feel, like I might just actually be able to have a normal, happy life. But I’m cautious. I’m cautious because my psychiatrist warned me that with new medications there can sometimes be relapses. The cocktail keeping me afloat now but not be entirely stable. I’m cautious because I’m afraid that if I sneeze too hard the whole thing will come crumbling down around my ears and I’ll be back at square one. I’m cautious because I’m afraid.
I can’t even begin to explain how different I feel. How my energy has improved so drastically, my drive to do things has risen, my fear of the future gone. I feel like I can live my life and not be terrified of it. I can go through my days without emotions that cripple me and make it impossible for me to enjoy any part of my life. I can live without random burst of anger that make me lash out at the ones I love. I can live without the anxiety that wrenches my gut and sets my skin tingling and breaking out in cold sweats. I can live without the depression that makes it impossible to get out of bed or to get off the couch or even to speak. I can live without the racing thoughts that plague my mind making it impossible to sleep or ever be at rest. I can live without random impulses that cause me to make decisions that I will regret for years to come, if not forever. I can...I can live.
And I have been. I’ve been going out more, doing more. I’ve made new friends for the first time since I was diagnosed. I told them about my illness fairly early on. I decided I don’t want this to be my dirty, little secret. This isn’t the thing I have to hide in shame and fear, lest someone should discover it. This is who I am. It will always be who I am. I may be treated for it and not exhibit symptoms, but it will never go away. Why should I be ashamed of who I am? No one else seems to be. And, wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t even care. It actually opened up our friendship for a closeness that wasn’t there before. So, turns out I really don’t have to be ashamed or worried, even with new friends and not just the old.
There were some scary times, that much is sure. In those weeks I was silent there were many bouts of unexplained crying and a crushing feeling of hopelessness. One of the things that brought me through that was the wonderful, touching messages I received from friends I didn’t even know still thought of me. The kind words given to me by those friends helped me to hold on to hope when I was sure the medications were never going to work and I was always going to feel that way - gray, heavy, bleak. I lost the will to live and one of the few tethers I had was how sad I would make those friends and family members that had reached out to me. How disappointed they would be. Seems like a silly thing to think, maybe - I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t a healthy thought, but it was my thought.
There may still be scary times ahead. My jaw is apparently clenching so hard at night that it’s misaligned itself and now I can’t bite down properly and my jaw joint hurts on the right side. I went to the dentist and he said that some bipolar medications can cause this type of problem, so I’ll be asking my psychiatrist about that this week. In the meantime, I have ordered a very expensive mouthguard from the dentist which I can wear at night to mitigate the effects of the clenching. Also, my psychiatrist wants to wean me off one of the three medications that I am taking for the bipolar disorder. He wants me on the least amount of medications possible so now that the Lamictal is full strength, he wants to see if we really need both of the other two. So, we’ll be doing some experimenting that could turn very not fun.
And, of course, I’ll have to stop all of my medications when it’s time for Ryan and I to try for a baby. The various fertility tests we took came back positive, which is a hopeful sign. However, it does look like I’m going to be skipping months with my menstrual cycle so I’ll have far fewer chances to actually get pregnant. I’m still terrified that it will never happen and no amount of platitudes will ever ease that fear. Until I actually have a fetus growing in my body, I will never believe it can actually happen. But that’s not the bipolar disorder, that’s just me.
I also have this new sensation where I am strangely reluctant to go to bed in the evening. I don’t want this day to end, I don’t want my time with Ryan to end, I don’t want to be one day older when I wake up. It’s a feeling that came with the full strength of the Lamictal so I assume it’s related. It’s not debilitating or terribly inconvenient, but it is weird. I’m supposed to be unfiltered with this blog so you get all the tidbits, even the not so interesting ones. The best way I can describe this feeling is what I used to get on Sunday nights when I didn’t want the weekend to be over and have to go to school the next day. If you remember that feeling, you know what I mean.
It is so...bizarre to feel hope for the future. Even just a month ago I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be better. I can remember sitting on my couch and forgetting what “normal” felt like. I was worried I wouldn’t recognize it when it came back. And here it is. It’s not a subtle difference, with the worst symptoms gone but still a heaviness, a weight tied to me. It’s a complete and total change. There is no comparison I can give to you because I don’t think anyone that hasn’t suffered from a disease that was suddenly treated can experience this. Maybe...okay, maybe if you’ve ever had intense tooth pain and you go to the dentist and give you a root canal and suddenly that pain you’ve been living with for weeks is abruptly, completely gone. That’s what this is like. I was in pain for years, severe pain for months and now, now it is gone.
I’m not sure if I’ll update any time soon because, while I still have bipolar disorder, my journey to wellness appears to be complete. Once I have to go off my medications for baby purposes, I’m sure I’ll be back. For now, I’ll enjoy the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment