Landslide

I've never been a fan of roller coasters.  I went on some when I was younger, but it always ended up with me throwing up afterwards.  The anticipation and the worry and then the literal stomach turning sensations were just too much for me.  I didn't want to have so many twists and turns.  I want a soft, gentle ride, knowing what to expect, easing into the next section smoothly and securely.

What a fantastic trick of nature to have then been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.  The grandest roller coaster of all.

Rapid cycling.  Unexpected mood swings.  Months of one emotion, then days (or hours!) of another.  Highest of highs and lowest of lows.

And, yes. Throwing up.

No real warning, although "they" say you can recognize the signs before you're in too deep.  I have not mastered that quite yet.  I hope to someday.

***

Sometimes it feels as if everything is crashing down on me all at once.  With all regard for Stevie Nicks, the landslide is truly bringing me down right now.  I AM in danger of going under, and I feel with all of my being that I am halfway there.

These past few months have been very, very hard.  I want so much to be strong and show the world that I am living and taking care of things and getting shit done.  Only, doing that all the time has taken a toll on me and now I am too tired to even do that much.

It's scary and a bit embarrassing to say to someone, "Look, I can't do it today.  Maybe not even tomorrow.  I can't give you an answer as to when.  I am making it minute by minute right now.  I hear you.  I appreciate you.  I want you in my life.  I just can't do life right now.  Please love me.  Please be patient with me.  Please be there when I am out of this."

Because I will, you know.  Be out of it.  I pray I will, anyway.  Through past experiences, I know it doesn't last forever, and the logical part of me says, "Adrienne.  It will get better.  It will ease up.  You WILL see the sun and hear the birds and WANT to get out and see them.  Just know that."

And I do inside.  I know it.  It's still so hard and so paralyzing and so demoralizing.

There are very few things as shameful as mental illness.  Not all people believe in it.  Not everyone has the patience for it (and that is 100% understandable).  Not everyone believes you are trying hard enough.  I get it.  I don't know how I would feel if I hadn't been in it myself.

***

Which brings me to my doctor's appointment yesterday. It was awful.  It was booked six months ago and waiting those six months was unbearable.  I wanted to scream out, "I need help! I cannot do it by myself.  I am drowning."

But then I get out of bed, I get dressed, and I do what I need to do.  For the most part.  My house is an awful mess and my children have spent their summer eating whatever we could find in the fridge or pantry.  I made a pot roast last night and felt like the king of the world.

But I digress!

***

I saw a new doctor as well as my own, because I have apparently reached the point where only one can't fix me.  Two of them will have to work in tandem.  I have broken them.

Bipolar depression is different from chronic depression (which is different from depression you feel when you lose a family member, or a job, or end a relationship).  It needs to be treated differently.  Mania is the main difference.  Without mania, you basically just have depression.  I am no doctor, so I'm being pretty basic.  Don't take me at word value.  I just know the treatment they have had me on for almost ten years is not doing it. 

My mania is worse and is lasting longer and contains a LOT of anger.  Overwhelming anger.  Anger that scares me.

So here we are.

***  

The goal is to change my meds.  Currently, I am taking Wellbutrin, Lamictal, Lexapro, Klonopin, and the occasional Buspiradone (which does nothing for me, but is helping in the form of a placebo effect right now).

Our group plan is to slowly wean me off of Wellbutrin and Lexapro (not at the same time) and slowly bring in Latuda.  Latuda is not covered by my insurance, but seems to be what would benefit me the most.  My doctors (psychiatrist and family medicine doctor) are working with my insurance right now to see what can be done.  If it's around $100 or so, I mean, I'm all for it.  I am at least willing to try.

The weaning part is the part that has me worried the most.  Wellbutrin has been hard to wean off of in the past.  It's not that I am addicted, but that your body goes through withdrawal symptoms and they are awful.  I want to take it as slow as we possibly can.

This will be an involved process.  I may be worse for a while.  I may be in pain.  I may hate everyone.

If the benefits outweigh the side effects, I will happily accept it, because what is happening right now is just now working.

***

Also, I have a very addictive personality.  I tend to ration my Klonopin and only allow myself to have it rarely because I had problems with it in the past and needing to have it.    And yes, my doctors know all of this and we are very frank with each other.

***

The very worst part of my appointment yesterday was discussing things with the psychiatrist and remembering things from when I was a child that I hadn't remembered until now.  And when something like that comes out - out of nowhere - it's hard to adjust to, it's hard to process, and it makes me question so many other things in my life. 

Today is my birthday, though, and after 20 years of being medicated, attempted suicide, one mental health hospital stay, a three month leave of absence from my job because of a basic nervous breakdown (for lack of a better term), I am still here.

I am still working and trying and fighting and giving everything I can.  God gives me that, you know.  Whatever you feel or believe.  I have faith in him and faith that he loves me and faith that he will help me cope.

He won't cure me.  He won't create a magic pill.  He will lend me his shoulder and help me when the burden is too much. 

***

And I will try as hard as I can to talk about my issues.  To be open and honest about it, even when I feel shame.  Even when I know people doubt me or think I am being melodramatic or looking for attention.

I will do it because I know someone somewhere is in pain and someone somewhere needs to know she is not alone and someone somewhere has to be told that it's hard and it takes work and you need to force yourself a lot of the time, but you CAN get through it.  You CAN get better.  You CAN find peace.

Just hold on.  Just give yourself a chance.

I love you.  Whoever you are.

***