Once again, I went off my antipsychotic (olanzapine) for 9 days. And then I crashed. I couldn't think, my memory was fuzzy, I was totally self-centered, and spent much of my time in thrift stores just wandering around (there are a lot of them in Fort Worth.) I told my mother (I am her primary caregiver) that she would never hear from me again, and I didn't want to hear from her. Then for a couple of weeks, I see-sawed back and forth between telling her I was sorry for abandoning her, then giving her the silent treatment again. I finally called my therapist (I haven't seen her in over a year) and went to see her this last Wednesday. But I was in a rage and I think she just wanted me to back off from the situation and let things cool off, then decide what I wanted to do. She thought it would be best if I told my mother I could see her one day a week and that was all. And that for now I will be unable to provide for her care. I needed a vacation.
I had started smoking again in May, stopped exercising, had trouble regulating my eating, gained weight, and this was all before I stopped taking the olanzapine. But I think for now I won't worry about those things and will concentrate on doing the things that will make me feel less depressed and help me slow the fast-paced thoughts.
So, I stopped taking good care of myself physically in May. July 1 I stopped taking the olanzapine. A recipe for total disaster. I feel it will take a while to get back on track and start feeling well again.
The moral of this story: take care of yourself as well as you possibly can, and don't skip the meds. How many times have I fallen into this trap now? Fortunately, I have been able to pick myself up each time and start right where I am again.