By the time I was diagnosed with bipolar, I was already meds compliant, having been treated for PTSD and depression for a couple of decades. The more I read about bipolar, the more sure I am that obediently swallowing pills (I have a psychiatrist I trust), is essential.
I rounded up some quotes about being bipolar and taking your meds.
I take my meds. Number one, two, three, four and five is that I take my medication.
Love is not enough. It takes courage to grab my father’s demon, my own, or – God help me – my child’s and strap it down and stop its mad jig; to sit in a row of white rooms filled with pills and clubbed dreamers and shout: stop smiling, shut up; shut up and stop laughing; you’re sitting in hell. Stop preaching; stop weeping. You are a manic-depressive, always. your life is larger than most, unimaginable. You’re blessed; just admit it and take the damn pill.
Every pore of you is crying and you don’t even understand why or what. I actually kind of died and got born again as a result of taking the meds and having a chance to, you know, build a life.”
“Suddenly I wanted to get better. Mania wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t creative or visionary. It was mean parody at best, a cheap chemical trick. I needed to stop and get better. I’d take whatever they gave me, I pledged silently. I’d take Trilafon or Thorazine or whatever. I just wanted to sleep.”
There were a few things scarier than a bipolar vampire off his meds, but to be honest, not that many.
Rachel Caine, Daylighters (The Morganville Vampires, #15)