The difficult part about medication side effects (aside from the side effects themselves, which are usually awful) is that you become so entrenched in feeling bad that you kind of forget what it’s like to feel good. Latuda took away my want and now I can’t remember what it’s like to have it. I’ve only been on the Zyprexa (and off the Latuda) for a few days so I can’t really expect to feel better yet, but the real problem is that I’m unable to feel optimistic, because I simply can’t remember what normal feels like..
What does it feel like to not be aimless? What does it feel like to want to do something? What are urges, again? What is yearning? What does it mean to get excited about something? These are questions that I honestly don’t have an answer for right now. It sounds a little silly, maybe melodramatic, but I honestly can’t remember what it feels like to want something. What a simple, easy thing to remember and for the life of me, I can’t.
Even typing this, I feel like I must be lying. I can’t imagine anyone reading this and believing that I have forgotten one of the most basic elements of existence: desire. But I was pacing around my apartment (I’m prone to pacing, even without the akathisia, because it’s something to do besides sit on the couch and stare at nothing) and trying to run through the list of things I could do to keep me occupied. I had tried watching television and that had fallen flat. I tried to “feel” if I was up to reading a book - I don’t know a better way to say that, but it sounds off.
Do you ever test an idea out in your head, like sipping wine to roll the flavor around in your mouth a bit, see if it’s what you’re in the mood for? That’s usually how I decide if I’m in the mood for an activity: I imagine myself doing it and see what emotions it sparks. Does the idea make me happy? Eager? Bored? Tired? What can I expect if I follow through with the notion of reading a book?
Well, right now, I’m coming up with “uneasy.” That’s what happens when I try to do activities now - I feel uneasy, uncomfortable. Like it’s not something I should be doing, there’s something else I should be doing instead. I could force myself to do one of these activities, like I did with watching television, but I won’t enjoy it because the uneasiness, the “wrongness” will take over and distract me.
Sometimes I can force myself to do something and it feels alright for awhile, usually physical activities. Going for a walk, going for a bike ride, going to yoga. But before long I feel that wrongness creeping in, that unsettled feeling slithers through my body until it consumes me. And then I’m back to trying to figure out what to do - what will while away the hours? Because that’s all I’ve been doing lately - passing time from one day to the next. Waiting until my next sleep, waiting until this is over.
It should be over soon, if this new medication works out. Man, I really hope it doesn’t cause similar symptoms because I’m running out of ways to pass time without actually doing anything. Writing seems to help but I’m worried that when I’m in this state I’m rambling too much, losing my point. What was my point? Right - I don’t remember what it feels like to “want” something.
My mind keeps landing on the things that used to make me happy. Reading is the big one. I used to read non-stop, read for hours on end. I haven’t read a book in ages, well over a month, probably closer to two. For me, that’s a big deal. But the thought of reading doesn’t sit well in my mind, like sour wine in the mouth. I hate not reading, it feels like a large chunk of what makes me “me” is ripped out without the love of reading rattling around inside of me.
I think that’s the really awful part about these side effects - the absence of traits that make up the “self”. I don’t have my usual energy, my usual drive. I don’t have the same desires, the same wants. I don’t have anything in me that still feels like me. It’s like the spark that is “me” got put under a glass and is slowly guttering out, watching my body still struggle along like it houses anything but empty space.
Where am I? Where is my me? Is it going to come back? Does it remember the way? Does my body remember the me to accept it back? Will I feel this way forever as it feels like I will? Or will the side effects eventually wear off, stop smothering my spark and let it flare back into life? Is that possible or is my spark too weak to make it?
This is why people don’t want to be treated for bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, this lack of of self. How would you like it if you no longer felt like you? Isn’t that the definition of death? When your body no longer holds the ephemeral “you?” So, it’s like a little death every time you try a medication that damps down who you are. Sure, you can change medications to find something better but that doesn’t stop the little death that already occurred or mean that there won’t be any new little deaths to suffer through.
What I’m saying is, this sucks. In case that hasn’t come across in previous posts, let me say it loud and clear. The journey to treat bipolar disorder is full of suck. It is the land of Suckdom and I would like to leave, please. Except, I can’t because bordering the land of Suckdom on all sides is Bipolar Crazy Town and I don’t exactly want to live there, either. I’d love a plane ticket to Normalville but apparently you only get there after making it all the way through Suckdom and its many valleys and hills, each named for a different antipsychotic. So, I’m stuck traveling and all I can hope for is company along the way - so, thanks, if you’re reading this and traveling with me. Company makes the road seem shorter.
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