This post was written on Saturday afternoon and scheduled for publication on Sunday morning. Just to let those of you know who have been following, it is Saturday at one, and I do NOT have a headache. I’m not even nauseated. Whether it was the Fetzima or the Lexapro, I have no idea. So now we pray for more energy. Thanks all!
More shameless advertising…I have a Pinterest page. Check it out by hitting the “P” on the left side of my blog. It’s a work in progress.
This is in response to a prompt on The Daily Post. I love these prompts. They get my drug-addled brain going just enough to come up with something (hopefully!) worthwhile to say.
“Write a six word story about what you think the future holds for you, and then expand on it in a post.”
Here is my six word story:
“I will be bipolar, but content.”
(That’s not exactly how I would say that, but gee, I only had six words!)
Yep, I will still be bipolar in my future. I have been bipolar as long as I can remember, and I doubt that will change anytime soon. I’ll probably have a pretty serious depression every four years or so as that has been my pattern. It’ll take me about a year to come out of it and recover to being functional again. Every time I go through this cycle I will learn techniques and skills to pull me back to “normal” faster.
I hope that there would be no suicidal actions, although I might have thoughts at my very lowest points, and I hope not to go to the hospital, although that may happen. With my husband working at home/retired, I should be able to weather most of the storms at home.
It would be great in my future if I could take fewer drugs and if they were better, with fewer side effects. I think this is likely as more people come out with mental illness and more drug companies are making money with new drugs. I’m not going to kid myself, I will be on drugs forever.
I hope in the future I will even learn to enjoy the journey of my illness. Since I have limited time left, I’d like not to waste it hoping things could be normal and learn to just accept myself as I am. I’ll remember it is the journey and there really is no destination. I don’t want to be some robot doing everything perfectly…I always want to be changing and growing a little bit.
My psychiatrist is close to retiring so I will be dealing with a younger model. Not too young I hope! It would be nice to have some docs out there trained to treat those who have had long term mental illness. I’ll still be seeing a therapist when I am down on ways to cope with life. I might also need her to deal with children-in-laws and grandkids, if I am so lucky as to have any.
Things will be better in the future because more and more people will know about bipolar illness. “Everyone” will not have it. It won’t be the latest designer disease. It will be able to be quickly and easily diagnosed by a brain scan. People will quit calling their annoying co-workers “bipolar”. Mental health will go the way of black people and gays in this country…more awareness and more people standing up for it.
Mentally ill people will not be shot and killed by the police because they are psychotic and wave a hammer or are holding a screwdriver and talking to the voices in their heads. The police will be trained to de-escalate a situation with a mental patient and subdue them by non-lethal means. Mentally ill people will be viewed with understanding by the police. I hope I live to see this.
I doubt I will see serious mania again, even though I have had it within the last ten years. I think I am too tired for mania. I may be hypomanic and clean the house and empty the cupboards of clutter. I may buy a few too many clothes, but nothing that will break the bank. I may write another really long novel, only to give up when I calm down and wind up losing interest in it. It will never be edited or read, and likely thrown in the trash. I may throw some really nice parties.
I worry about my life span and how much time I have left. I have pumped a lot of drugs in my brain. My dad died at 57 from diabetes. I’m overweight. On the flip side, I am very diligent about check-ups and screening appointments. My sugar level and blood pressure are low. And I am trying to lose weight. I’d be dead anyway if it weren’t for the drugs, so what can I say?
I’d be very content with my friends. I’d maintain relationships with people and not let them fall by the wayside unless they were harmful or negative. I’d always be looking for new friends and adding them in. I’d spend quality time with my girlfriends and go on some trips with them. I’d stay very close to my best friend. I lost her once and don’t want that to happen again. If I got mentally bad, I would let her know and take a break. Since she is a writer, I just might write a story or book with her some day if I get a little manic. I would let her edit it and try to sell it. Then we could take some of the money and travel a bit on it. We’d leave our husbands at a long rock show. (The kind with real rocks.)
All of my kids will marry someone decent who likes me well enough to visit with their kids. I’d be involved in the grandkids’ lives. I’d Skype a lot or whatever you’d do in the future. I’d love to be mentally healthy at their weddings and at the birth of their babies. (I want to be the helpful Grandma that comes for a week or two and cooks and cleans and cares for the new mom.)
I’ll travel more with my husband, accept his rock and Star Trek collections as part of the deal, and be nice to his obnoxious friends. I’ll make more of an effort to invite his nice friends places. I’ll do easy hikes and walk with him.
I’ll be a little thinner, still cook dinners and be known for my simple but really good baking. I won’t miss a chance to take food over when we go somewhere.
I see myself with a special room all of my own. (I have my eye on my daughter’s when she moves out this spring.) I’m going to decorate it in lavender and mint green and black. I’m going to put up inspirational sayings and have a modern white desk or table to work on. I might have a chaise lounge to lay on and read. Or even a couch!
I’m sure I’ll have a fair amount of negative happening along with all of this positive. But hey, let’s look on the bright side! Why not?