In the categories of’don’t try this at home, kids”, and ‘ill advised’ and ‘are you fucking nuts’…I stopped taking my lithium four days ago. I’m sorry, the nausea was too much and I got to reading my old writing and it was just better than the lithium husk of current days…So I stopped it, just to see if there was a difference in my writing quality. It’s too soon to really say, but at least it hasn’t slowed me down. Fifteen single spaced pages in 3 hours today alone. I will go back on the lithium the instant the roller coaster starts sliding on the rails but for now…Lamictal will suffice.
Which brings me to…manic episodes. I was sort of low yesterday but today, in spite of a cold cold wet morning dragging me under…I bounced back and the brain went warp speed ahead, Mr. Spock, Sula, and Lt. Uhura. I lurve when I get in the writing zone. Ideas coming at me breakneck speed. Following through with planned errands instead of ducking out. Doing utterly unpleasant things that will likely result in me being blamed when I am not at all to blame, R is just an asshole. (parts order glitch.)
Flip side…I came out of my “anti people” slump and called my mom and apparently she told my sister I am drunk at 4 in the afternoon, based on my rapid speech and using the wrong words and stammering a bit. Hello? Vintage bipolar mania.
Perhaps the upside, in my situation, is I cycle so rapidly, I am rarely manic more than a day, at most, unless hypo manic. Axis 2 bipolar is a spiteful bitch, providing so few manic episodes yet giving months long depressions. Especially when attached to seasonal affective disorder, which is mega sucky when you live in the midwest with the fickle weather changes…
My mom, I have concluded, is as hopeless a cause as is my father and friend R, in grasping that bipolar isn’t the same as lazy or stupid. Even today on the phone, the topic switched to her wanting cremated and my sis insists she be buried…I tossed out my wishes to donate my body to a medical school, better to teach something than be worm few or dust…And I said, “They can study my fucked up brain…” My charming mother tosses out, “Yeah, your sister didn’t get any of that stuff.”
Denial much? Oh, wait, my sister’s three trips to the looney bin were because she was young, she was stressed, she was drunk, she was on meth. She barely raised her own kid til he was 15. She shunned meds and replaced that with drunken bouts where she becomes combative and violent. But hey, she has a job and she keeps excellent house and cooks fabulously. I’m the loser.
Of course, I didn’t say that to psycho hose beast mombie. She has accused me perpetually of envying my sister, like it’s some petty thing. I envied my sister when she was a grand theft auto breaking into bars and stealing booze troubled kid. Only because she was the one person, even if younger than me, defended me against the bullying I suffered at school. She never shunned me or made fun of me and she wasn’t afraid to throw down. I was a mousy bookwork who could throw out sarcastic barbs but didn’t dare throw down physically lest I get expelled or arrested and upset the parental units. I envied my sister for being fearless and brash. For being loyal.
I don’t envy her getting married at 19 to a man who 18 years later still won’t work and spends all time obn X Box and smoking pot. I don’t envy her living with a bunch of other people and having to wait on them hand and foot. I don’t envy her weekends drinking with her odd friends whom I find as interesting as drying paint. Sorry, not rude, just honest.
Point being (I am fairly sure I have a point but the manic brain spins pretty fast)…Once I envied my sister but I don’t now. Mom will never grasp that any more than she will grasp that I didn’t ask for bipolar. Her hypocrisy is a salty drink to swallow as she was once in a locked ward for depression and anxiety, but hey, she came out of it, no meds needed, she just became completely venomous and a shut in. The meds suck but just getting use to being a miserable person is worse.
See the manic shifts in this post alone? You probably think I am drunk. Unless you’ve been through the manic episodes, in which case you might pump your fist in the air and say “I get this sooo much!”
I know it’s the sudden drop in lithium level, mania is the next step. I just need to mythbust whether my current lackluster writing is related to the lithium shutting down any true emotion. Once I determine that, I’ll go back to my puke inducing sane pills. My shrink seems to have zero problems with me tweaking my own meds since he is so busy he can’t see me more often. I don’t advise doing as I do, but…We all walk our own paths, it’s not up to me to tell anyone what to do as it is not up to others to tell me what to do.
As much as bipolar sucks…Even if steeped in denial…You gotta admit…mania is a high money can’t buy. Shame, like drugs and alcohol, it is so destructive. It’s like feeling good just leads to feeling bad. I don’t even know what that is, Universe. Cockweasel world.