My Current antidepressant stopped working. Now, I can stop worrying about when it’s going to!!! (laugh track) What? A joke at a time like this? Seriously? Seriously.
I’m bleeding tears right now. If I don’t find some humor in this repetitious routine of manic, depressed, manic, etc, I’ll opt out. Of it all. ‘But no,’ I think. What will happen to the new friends I am making? How will my choice to accept defeat lying down affect their recovery?
Sometimes when someone dies, it makes the rest of us stronger, but I remember two recent ‘accidental overdose’ (suicides) that left me scared to death. It filled me with terror because the proximity of them taking ‘the final option’ crept closer to my consciousness. I won’t do that to others, I remembered thinking at the time of their deaths. Considering my circumstances, since I’ve begun to feel better, taking myself out would be very selfish of me.
On this last episode, I was on a new antidepressant Brintellix. It works on eight neurotransmitters. It was like driving an 18 wheeler tractor trailer through a barn. I had been feeling so strong. I got seven good months out of it and suddenly, one day, the bottom fell out and I was angry. I felt cheated. I drank for a week. (Oops!) My good friends thought I needed a hospital, but if I did that, my family would push me even further away than they already have. Do you think in my family of five sisters that I ever get invited to get togethers?
Never. I’m the black sheep, even though I tow a rough road. They don’t want it anywhere near them. The do not want to understand this disease or accept the fact that a bipolar person never actually gets ‘well,’ only better or worse.
But still, I feel defrauded. When I was inpatient for 60 days back in 1989 and also the 60 day inpatient in 2000, and in various IOP programs of length, I was told to take these drugs ‘the rest of my life’ and to take them ‘as directed.’ I did so. I quit drinking. I feel I’ve done my part. But I’m drowning. And tired. Exhausted of the drill. I’ve had 10 bipolar relapses due to something the doctors forget to tell you about when you walk out the door with the prescription: ‘medication fatigue’ or ‘Prozac Poopouts,’ as they are clinically giggled about. Sometimes I feel that we are less than human to them. Giggling ? When someone is in their office behind closed doors, crying out for help? Seriously. I’ve given hospitals a wide berth after this. I trust my psychiatrist of 15 years and that’s about it.
I think I should widen my circle a bit. That’s what I am trying to do now.
I go through my life as a ghost, worrying about when these antidepressants will ‘stop’ working and I’ll be right back here, binge watching television again, not wanting to cook for myself. I haven’t been to the gym in 7 weeks. I used to work out for an hour and a half, chasing the endorphins and it never comes. I just quit going. I don’t like lifting weights and riding the life cycle just to do so. I can just as well read the newspaper on my couch at home. Takes less time.
These days, even though there are support groups aplenty, I Google a lot to find out about certain medications, how they work and to see if there are new ones on the horizon for us. The answer? There are tons of drugs in the pipeline. They are even working with “Vitamin K” you know, animal tranquilizer, to be given as a last resort in a safe, prescribe-able form, to people with Major Depressive Disorder, who respond to nothing else. And then, there is always ECT. Ooops. That’s a thought that makes me think I’m getting better already! No, seriously, from what I have read, ECT has come a long way and it’s done on an outpatient basis. They only do one side of the brain and if I was up against long term depression, which I was once, for an entire year, I would do it. I’d do anything to save my life, even when it feels like it’s not worth a nickel.
By and © 2015, Bipolar Brainiac, All Rights Reserved
Bipolar Brainiac (AKA known as Allison Strong..her radio name) was a Stanford scholarship Volleyball player. She lived in Los Angeles for a year, appearing in Television Commercials, TV and the occasional very small part in a movie. She had her first manic episode in 1989 and had her mother send out tapes and resumes to Salt Lake City radio stations. She got hired right out of the psych ward! Full Time, Benefits. It wasn’t her favorite station, so she then segued into Alternative Radio during the 90’s, where she was able to play songs about being depressed and songs about aggression and anger and all sorts of things not previously heard on the radio. It was an exciting decade. She moved to Florida, studied Medical Transcription and did that for a while until she was felled by a nasty depression that lasted two years. She applied for disability and got it immediately. She is a mental health advocate as a speaker and a writer. She lives with her husband and two cats, in Hollywood Florida.
You can follow Bipolar Brainiac on twitter @bipolarbrainiac
You can find her blog at: https://bipolarbrainiac.wordpress.com/