Those who have been reading my posts for a while have seen the typical bipolar range. Highs and lows. Ego and uncertainty. Confidence and cowardice. I have tried to accurately reflect my frame of mind in the posts that I write. The problem is that lately I don’t understand my frame of mind, and have not been able to write at all. In fact, I’m almost not even able to function.
My blogging was started primarily for selfish reasons, it was therapeutic. Along the way the process brought me more in touch with myself. It also brought me in contact with others suffering just like I was. This contact taught me a little more about myself. And it’s not always pleasant.
Lately things have been bad. Really bad. It’s like I’m standing at a crossroads trying decide which direction to go. Straight ahead is a roadblock signaling a dead end. To the right the road plunges down a rocky cliff. To the left is complete darkness. Behind – well we can’t ever go back, can we?
At a support meeting the other day somebody was describing being bipolar. She said it was like having a brain that was perfectly segmented. The social segment usually worked well. In fact you could be smiling and interacting with someone without any outward indication of problem. A second segment might be moving a million miles an hour, either in a positive or dangerous way. A third segment might be so depressed it’s planning self-harm. And that’s what I have going – social is working, mania is high, and depression is significant.
Recently I made a job change. It was a necessary change, I escaped just before a layoff would have forced me out anyway. But I am now a contractor, I took the position in anticipation of a permanent hire. 90 days, then a permanent hire. I rolled the dice and opted against insuring the family for the 90 days. After all, the hire was a sure thing, and $800 a month was a LOT of money for insurance. I wasn’t (foolishly) counting on my bipolar disorder getting in the way. I should have known better. Talk about feeding mania and anxiety, this scenario will do it.
Last week I called my Pdoc. Explained to his secretary that even though insurance was a question mark at this moment, and that I postponed my last appointment, and that they gave me a month’s worth of Lamictal samples to tide me over, I WOULD be coming back shortly. And oh yeah, could you have doc give me a call? I told him what was going on, and how anxiety and irritability had my wife ready to pack her bags. I told him how OCD-like symptoms, which had never been a factor for me, are crippling me at work. And due to current lack of insurance, could we make Seroquel work for this since I have some already? So, with his go-ahead, I added Seroquel to the Lamictal / Risperdal cocktail. It’s not good so far, but I’ll report back later.
So the point of this wallow in self-pity? I guess mostly to get these feelings out. Once they’re out, I can find a way to deal with the problems. I hope.
My blogging was started primarily for selfish reasons, it was therapeutic. Along the way the process brought me more in touch with myself. It also brought me in contact with others suffering just like I was. This contact taught me a little more about myself. And it’s not always pleasant.
Lately things have been bad. Really bad. It’s like I’m standing at a crossroads trying decide which direction to go. Straight ahead is a roadblock signaling a dead end. To the right the road plunges down a rocky cliff. To the left is complete darkness. Behind – well we can’t ever go back, can we?
At a support meeting the other day somebody was describing being bipolar. She said it was like having a brain that was perfectly segmented. The social segment usually worked well. In fact you could be smiling and interacting with someone without any outward indication of problem. A second segment might be moving a million miles an hour, either in a positive or dangerous way. A third segment might be so depressed it’s planning self-harm. And that’s what I have going – social is working, mania is high, and depression is significant.
Recently I made a job change. It was a necessary change, I escaped just before a layoff would have forced me out anyway. But I am now a contractor, I took the position in anticipation of a permanent hire. 90 days, then a permanent hire. I rolled the dice and opted against insuring the family for the 90 days. After all, the hire was a sure thing, and $800 a month was a LOT of money for insurance. I wasn’t (foolishly) counting on my bipolar disorder getting in the way. I should have known better. Talk about feeding mania and anxiety, this scenario will do it.
Last week I called my Pdoc. Explained to his secretary that even though insurance was a question mark at this moment, and that I postponed my last appointment, and that they gave me a month’s worth of Lamictal samples to tide me over, I WOULD be coming back shortly. And oh yeah, could you have doc give me a call? I told him what was going on, and how anxiety and irritability had my wife ready to pack her bags. I told him how OCD-like symptoms, which had never been a factor for me, are crippling me at work. And due to current lack of insurance, could we make Seroquel work for this since I have some already? So, with his go-ahead, I added Seroquel to the Lamictal / Risperdal cocktail. It’s not good so far, but I’ll report back later.
So the point of this wallow in self-pity? I guess mostly to get these feelings out. Once they’re out, I can find a way to deal with the problems. I hope.
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