My doctor has increased my antipsychotic to help with the hallucinations and delusions I am barely coping with. It is a relief that I am finally being taken seriously. But it is also a huge hassle. Everyone who has been on these meds can attest that the first few weeks at a higher dose are terrible. You are tired all the time and your mind quite foggy. Many use the word ‘zombie’ and it certainly is a good descriptor.
Since I wasn’t manic but depressed I welcome this feeling. It’s the feeling of the road to recovery. Also not questioning if everything I see and hear is real is a relief. I still have moments where I get really lost in my own mind but I can be coached out of it now.
I wonder if I will ever get to a place where these symptoms don’t plague me everyday. If its not psychosis its anxiety, or depression, or mania, or some horrible cocktail of them all.
Every morning I wake up I crack an eyelid to look at the time. Too early = bad, too late = bad. A whole bunch of too early in a row = batten down the hatches, this ship is going manic.
If I am around the right time I hop out of bed and start my day. Things tick along until I need to go out to get something. Cue the dragon. Can I slay this anxious monster and get my shit done? Or will I be burned up and return home in shame.
I make it my mission to be productive everyday. Cooking dinner counts- though I much prefer accomplishing something real and tangible as proof that the day wasn’t a waste. I don’t know. It just makes me feel better. When I can crawl into bed knowing the house is clean, I’ve eaten well, and I’ve exercised a bit it makes much easier to fall asleep. Mostly because I am not berating myself for being useless all night.
I think that’s why I’ve taken to making socks. They only take a few days and you get something beautiful- and something people appreciate. They also can travel anywhere so those anxious fidgets can be harnessed.
I am learning how to cope with the way my mind is now. I have all sorts of tricks that I’ve developed to get things done. I hate that it’s come to this, constantly modifying my life just to get the minimum done. But I refuse to let it stop me. I am not Bipolar. I am a writer, crafter and wife diagnosed Bipolar.