Bipolar When It Counts











{August 2, 2012}   Walking away

Ok, so what has it been? Six weeks? Something like that anyways. What can I say, I’m having issues. Okay, I admit, I always have issues, but this has been a bit different.

I think the last time I wrote, I commented on my new meds.  Since then, I’ve been taken off the Risperdal and put on zyprexa.  I’ve taken it before (honestly, there isn’t much available here that I haven’t taken before), but at a much lower dose. The first time, and the second time, I started at 2.5mg. Second time was increased to 5mg. When it didn’t work, I was put on something else. Haldol, I think. That kind of worked. I guess.

This time, my psydoc thought it would be best to put me on… wait for it….10mg!  Really? Are you trying to make me a complete zombie?  Honestly, I’m trying really hard to live my life as normally as possible. I have a family and a job to worry about, not to mention a B.A. that I would like to finish before the decade is through.

I know that life with bipolar disorder is not, nor will it ever be, “normal,” but I keep trying. And every time I seem to finally be getting somewhere with that, something else comes up that just smashes my plans to bits.

To make matters even worse, the meds just aren’t working. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’m sure they would work much better if I actually took them every time I was supposed to. I try, really I do, but some days it just seems like such a hassle.  I have alarms on my smartphone set to go off 4 times a day through an app I downloaded called Medtracker.  It sounds an alarm, tells me what I need to take, and in what dose. It even keeps track of things like how many refills I have, and how many pills left in my stock at home. It’s actually a great app. Too bad I just turn of the alarm and, well, do nothing most of the time.

All the pill skipping had seriously affected my mood, but honestly, I don’t notice it. It’s not until after an outburst that I realize what I have said or done. By then, most of the time, the damage had been done and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. After years of putting up with my mercurial moods, my so-called “normal” friends are all walking away. I don’t think it will matter anymore what I say or do, I won’t be able to fix it this time. After a while, apologies just sound hollow.

We all need friends. A strong support network is vital to the health of someone with a mental illness. So what are we to do when those we count on distance themselves from us?

What do you think? Should we be forgiven at every turn, or does there come a time when its too late to fix what we have done?

If you have any issues you would like to see here, or articles and stories you would like to share, you can leave me a comment below, or email me at lmhennebury@hotmail.com

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