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.