January 31, 2017
I am weening myself off my bipolar meds, with the doctor’s approval. I am far from cured, just sick of the side effects.
Currently jittery and frustrated after taking my current dosage, hoping tonight it gets immediately better now that I’m going down to zip again.
I regret the past 2 months and pursuing medication.
January 29, 2017
So last weekend where I debated between not drinking or maybe having “a few glasses of wine?” I got wasted, sadly. In the heat of drunkness I also decided not to take my meds for that night to combat the nasty side effects I was sure to have being drunk on anti-psychotics. Medically, that whole night/next morning was a disaster, corrected by a stomach bug contracted the next day and a head cold about 2 days later. The sicknesses weren’t probably from skipping meds, though the migraines and hangover were just further encouragement never to drink again while on these meds.
Because of the sicknesses, I decided against going to see my 88 year-old grandmother and went home to see my parents instead. My dad also had a head cold and my mom runs on a daily basis so she is never sick, it felt like a safer trip.
I went walking today with my mom before I made the drive back up north and we talked a lot about my current job placement and where I want to work next because the place now feels so temporary. I said I might look at jobs in Springfield and the second I said it, it felt so accurate. The suburbs have been tempting for a while, or other major cities in the area, but home feels like where I should go. Ever since I said it aloud, it’s all I can think about, how much I just want to go and live in my hometown instead of working here for any more years. Two hours now isn’t such a bad distance to live, and one hour from relatives, but I can’t do it anymore. I am stable in every part of my life except for emotionally, and maybe moving home would solve that final piece. I wouldn’t live at home with my folks, but in an apartment. I’m just going to think about it for a while, and continue checking the job banks, and talking to my folks, and getting my hopes up. I want to move home. I can’t believe I’m finally thinking about this.
January 21, 2017
Running changes everything. Even as I’m running, I feel happier, more powerful, less worried about what I say or do. I feel more than normal when I’ve made myself get up and go out with the group for even the shortest distance of 3 miles. It feels so good to be back out there with them.
I was thinking about weekends and signing up for the first 5K of 2017 and I cannot find an open weekend within the next month. This weekend I’m headed to see college friends in Champaign, next weekend I promised my grandmother I’d be up to see her in Rockford, the next weekend is a 10 mile hike in the suburbs/really awesome first date, the next weekend is a mega hike through Starved Rock Park that goes 13.4 miles, and so the next weekend after that I should probably head home to Springfield to visit family. I love these busy weekends though, and most of them being hikes or runs. It helps get rid of some of the depression and low points of the winter and the swings the weather can’t help.
I’m going to see friends today and we’re going out tonight. I’m caught between wanting to stay sober, not wanting to admit why I don’t want to drink, and just giving in and having a glass or two of wine. I have no idea what I’ll decide, I just hope I’ll do it in moderation. Like not too “I’m sober let me tell you all about my anti-psychotics” and still not too “Yeah, I can handle a few more drinks.” I just want to be somewhere nice and in the middle.
I did decide today to get dressed up tonight. I got my period this morning, so the diva cup always manages to make me feel gross, but I got fake eyelashes and new lipstick to add tonight. Hopefully the look comes together.
Also got a candle warmer for my classroom to combat the stink that is getting worse with the heater and carpet flooring. This kid always smells like body odor or cat pee and it just hits you as you enter the room. My para and I have been joking about getting room freshener and I finally remembered to pick it up while I was out. I got all linen and lilac scents to keep it fresh. I’ve never been a fan of the heavy scents like pumpkin or vanilla. I’m testing it out now, and the Burt’s Bee’s wax is amazing so far.
Life is good, I had to kind of go through and empty it out on here because it feels good to empty your head space and really reflect on what in your life is making you so happy. This weekend is exciting and I should totally shower and get ready for it. The meds are good, I’ve been bumped up to 40 mg of Latuda and it feels accurate. School is good, friends are good, running is good, counseling should start up in February as well as the DBSA group counseling. I feel good.
January 8, 2017
The depression is bad again, and so are the thoughts. My meeting with the psychiatrist is tomorrow to get another prescription, which I think I’ll ask for a higher dosage.
On January 1, I drank wine and skipped my meds, or attempted to. Five hours past my normal medication time I had a delusion followed by a panic attack in my living room, so I took the meds then and made it to sleep with a giant headache. I’ve been sober since then.
Yesterday was the first day I’ve wanted sex in over a month now, so it’s awesome that feeling is back.
I feel empty, hopeless, tired. I feel like I don’t want to face today, or tomorrow. I don’t feel reckless, but I feel like I’ll end up doing something stupid in order to feel again. Maybe if I plan to get a tattoo then nothing stupid will happen accidentally. Just make it through this week. Then, I don’t know. Then, I’ve made it?
Game plan: Tinder, possibly a hookup (probably not, but I can dream), possibly a tattoo. I can definitely count on tinder, new meds, and more non-alcoholic beer.
Hope and love are what I feel only when I’m normal. Every other moment I feel crazy.
January 2, 2017
I came back to the apartment yesterday and drank wine with Jaden. And then decided not to take my meds because I hate the thought of having to stop and take them for the rest of my life. And because they make drinking alcohol unbearable.
I had a panic attack around 11:30 pm with slight delusions, so I took my medicine then. The curiosity to stop taking them (I’m still stuck with the diagnosis) is overwhelming each night, but so is the anxiety that I need to tell my doctor I want a higher dosage.
I’m past the need to spend, which is helpful because I’ve also broken a tooth and don’t expect that appointment to be cheap. My bipolar meds are almost out too, so I’ll need more regardless if the dosage is upped or not.
I want to think normally again, but I think I’m on the edge of a depressive cycle instead. Fuck.