Hello Darkness

“Hello Darkness, my old friend…” Paul Simon
 

 I thought I was doing so well. My psych medications seemed like I was well controlled. I was filled with ideas to write my blog, growing followers on twitter and FB page. I was determined and motivated to control my sugar levels by dieting and exercise. I began to care about my appearance and was outdoors building a garden. I felt great and seemed to be moving forward towards wellness, or so I thought.

Instead, I apparently got another “ticket to ride” up the roller coaster again. That all so familiar rapid run of irritably that sent me swirling upside down with anxiety, worry, and repetitive thoughts of disappointments and failures. My irrigated anger is poked at blaming loved ones. The real truth is that I was not entirely to blame for my downward decent of despair but I did poked first. 

The obvious signs of depression is evident to me. I am feeling hopeless that transmits a repetitive display of emotions. Than I begin to loose my interest in daily activities. My weight loss began to rise again as eating is the only sense of control over my body. Knowing my short temper is being provoked, I hide away from the agitation by escaping to my bedroom. The next day I awaken with no energy, unable to control my negativity of worthlessness. This time I have become consumed that all hope has failed. A rapid decrease of strength and courage towards wellness is just a hopeless/ futile effort. No matter how hard I try to escape the darkness, it always finds me and talks to me again.

I know that I must “snap out of it”. “Put my big girl pants on” and “stop being a schizo paranoid” in which, snapping out of it is a fight that feels impossible.
Fortunately, my next appointment with Dr. Candyman was due in just a few days. I conveyed my feelings of hopelessness and shame to which he suggested hospitalization but I begged him to give me a chance to overcome this by allowing the increase dosages of medications to take hold first. 

Here I am, stoned out of my mind, a constant general malaise, and barely able to function. I’m consciously aware that driving is a risk I should not attempt right now. Fearing I maybe forever homebound, no longer able to participate in the upkeep of my daily activities. Again, it was fortunate that my appointment with my counselor was due shortly after my visit with Dr Candyman. I managed to be presentable. Showered, properly clothed, and function-able despite my lethargy.

He knew immediately that I was troubled. The session was one of my most productive to date. It was enlightening and left me with encouragement to resume fighting through this. He affirmed my husband’s command to take responsibility for my own erratic behavior. I was originally diagnosed as a Bipolar Type 2 by my mid-40s by 53 years old I exacerbated into Type 1 Bipolar. I am a true believer in getting a grip on feeling low and “choosing to be happy “ but, a bipolar’s depression does not work this way. It is an illness within my brain however, with the medical treatment I’ve achieved these last 10 years, I am accountable for my own actions and must live up to any consequences I have committed.

I am capable of noticing the signals of my irritability and remove myself from not causing my agitation to hurt any loved ones. I see this as “riding the wave” but, this is not as successful as it sounds and I must find a better way of handling my situation. An apology for my behavior can signal to my loved one that I am fighting to take control of my brain. I took the route of seeking psychological help from Dr Candyman and the therapy for the appropriate actions I need to replace. This all sounds very elementary but, when therapeutic interventions such as meditation, mood charting and journalling is not working it’s time to learn something new that prevents hurting loved ones and a fixed depression I can not overcome alone.

I received an increase with my medication that caused a new level of sedation. The added sedation is to provide some down time and allow my mind to rest. Just like resting a back injury and taking a pain pill. Medication is not the be all end all. He informed me that the increase maybe a temporary mode of treatment and may be readjusted when riding the exacerbation has ended. It could also mean that my current doses are no longer as effective which is common among most bipolar’s.

I fight everyday with my bipolar, the disorder does not warrant taking breaks. The hardest part in this unexpected event was feeling like a failure. That all my hard work isn’t good enough. My years spent in a natural state of mind, only to fall backwards is devastating. I have been warned by my therapist that I will have “breakthroughs” where extra therapy sessions is an essential mode of treatment and I couldn’t agree more. I feel my efforts have been pointless that I failed fighting against the mind. My daily routine has been futile and how unfair that I’v been innately given such a harsh disorder.

I know that “normal” looks like getting out of bed in the morning, compliant with my diabetes, getting out even if it’s just to the grocery store. Most of all, the determination to keep up on my blog even when I’m in a loosing battle. Especially when I’m loosing to the mind over matter. I suspect many of us do.

So, I am exhausted with this lose and must embrace this time of resting my mind. Most importantly, acceptance that my disorder will continue to have its breakthroughs, recognizing the signs and wasting no time to seek my support team for the appropriate exit back to a stronger state and fight harder against the mind.

“Hello darkness, my old friend…I’ve come to talk with you again” “ Disturbing the “Sound of Silence”. 

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