I received a Tweet from wonderful Twitter friend, Mark. He was asking why he hadn’t heard anything from me lately and I dissociated as I thought about the fact that I haven’t written any articles in at least a week. Without considering a real answer, at least one of substance I replied that I’d been lazy – which is true. I feel lazy lately; so lazy.
I slept until 5:00 pm today. I wasn’t even sleeping the entire time. I would rise up, consider getting up, talk to the dog, and lay back down. Why in the world should I get up? I shouldn’t. I won’t.
The reality of the situation is that my medications aren’t right. It’s very difficult to medicate those with Bipolar disorder, and this diagnosis is still fairly new to me. I have written before about the difficulty of medicating this disorder, but I have never written about the depression itself.
At the time I wrote that article I was considering the possibility of life without medicine. Since then, I have even more reason not to continue taking them. They thin my once lustrous and thick hair, and I can’t take a non-inflammatory pain pill, which is what I need for my brand of arthritis. For now, I’ll continue taking my medicines.
I have a great psychiatrist. She listens to me and seems to genuinely care. Dr. No-No (her first name is Nannette and I like the alliteration) tells me to get counseling. I know the value of counseling, but I don’t see how it’s going to keep me out of bed for most of my day. I’ve already had six years of psychotherapy and counseling. During that time I turned from a mean-spirited rager into a caring human being. So yes, I know the value.
I wouldn’t have stopped going, but my insurance changed. Psychotherapy is pretty expensive. It was $85-an-hour at the time. I might even start some more counseling, but at this point I am not motivated to leave my couch. Are there therapists who would sit in the chair across from my couch? They could hold my dog as we worked. She’s really cute!
I know the basics. Don’t allow self-pity and don’t whine to the world. I do not mean to whine. I just want relief. I don’t want to feel like the mighty manatee, with the boat of life occasionally cutting into my back. They’re beautiful animals; I just don’t want to be one of them. Family photos would be more difficult, I’m thinking. Ginae – Land Manatee!
With the combination of medications I am on, I am not that sad, just incredibly apathetic, more than I have ever been in my entire life. What I don’t know is whether or not the apathy is a byproduct of a nervous breakdown (the result of having been given the drug Geodon, then ignored by doctors as I descended), or if it is due to the mixture of my current medications. Hence, there is the possibility that I will not bother with mood stabilizers and anti-depressants in the future.
Why should I? Granted, I am not miserable in a sense. I am not suicidal, homicidal, or crying. I haven’t cried in months, and for the most part I haven’t felt the urge to. I just have to negotiate my every next move with the physical and the mental – and sometimes those two do not get along.
In my head, I want to get back into public speaking, join some type of social group, and take a class. I had the luxury of making those plans, knowing that I wouldn’t back them up even as I made them. So, when – if ever?
I went to see Dr. No-No yesterday, but she was ill and I had to see Dr. IdKillAllClientsIfICould. Ugh! She was rude, interrupted me at every possible juncture, and just generally had a palpable animosity for me. I explained I wanted to stop taking my medicines. She leaned back and said, “Sure. No problem. I’ll respect that.”
I could barely hold in my frustration. “What? No! I don’t have a doctorate – you do! Fight with me! Tell me why taking all this stuff is a good idea.” We eventually came to see that I have other health issues, undiagnosed at the moment, which could explain my apathy. She explained that if I could get more knowledge about my health, then I could make a better decision. She had nothing to say about my hair, my 90-year-old shaking hands, or my sleeplessness. Shockingly enough, she did say, “Good bye.”
I am scheduled to see Dr. No-No in a month.