I have spent a fair chunk of this year trying to get my medication cocktail right. It’s been draining to say the least.
Added to the mix was the recent diagnosis of ADHD. I have also been slowly tapering off an anti-depressant.
The end result, as things presently stand, is that my day consists of two very different halves. One is waking from a deep sleep which can last from 10-12 hours. The other is one of calm and focus thanks to the ADD medication. It’s weird territory to be in. On one hand I can barely drag myself out of bed because of residual effects from last night’s medications. On the other hand, I resent going to bed because of the sheer dread of the repeating cycle.
Throw in the odd panic attack (mainly when I first wake up), feeling restless and/or racing thoughts (mainly during the evening), life with Bipolar is far from convenient.
I dread to think that if I was still employed, how could I possibly survive in the long term. I think the medications work, but they are not practical in terms of supporting a “normal” existence. There is a deep resentment that this illness has robbed me of so much and continues to do so.
Most of the things that I crave seem out of reach. Sustaining employment, having a relationship, raising a child, attending social gatherings (social anxiety is a separate issue and probably deserves it’s own post, so I’ll just leave that one there for now). Limiting stress is a big part of the Bipolar equation. Unfortunately for me, this results in complete avoidance. I only go out when I have to. I dare not look for work for the fear of a repeated episode. I dare not seek a relationship as I barely have anything to offer, both financially and physically. I get overwhelmed interacting with groups of people. The end result is isolation and as painful as that may be, it’s better than putting myself and others through any unnecessary grief.
Medications are both friend and enemy. I’m not quite sure which one outweighs the other.
Until next time,