Fun Times with Meds
I have been on many meds for my bipolar disorder. Some things just don’t work while others do. Some work in tandem with others. Some are just annoying. I believe I spoke about my experiences with some medications and how what works for one but not for another.
Because of this, I will just give a nice disclaimer:
What works for me might not work for others. I have had horrible reactions to Wellbutrin and Seroquel while others do well on them. I have been on many of the older meds that were prescribed based on diagnosis only. As my great psychiatrist said, “I treat the person, not the diagnosis” and he sticks to it.
I Was Spiraling Again
I was so bad for the past few months that my job appointed therapist wanted to reach out to my psychiatrist. I wanted to either hurt myself or others which isn’t ideal and I am never going back to the psych ward.
Because of this, I chose to keep my regular appointment with my psychiatrist because I thought it was the full moon, PMS, or seasonal depression. It could have been all of them in all honesty. I rode it out, but I still had serious suicidal and homicidal ideation. The thing that helped though, is that I had no actual plans on killing myself or a specific person. However, if said opportunity presented itself, I would easily do it. I do have a story to tell at the end of this post.
Talking to the Psychiatrist
I had to tell him all the feelings I had had, how I was attempting to cope, etc. He suggested two more medications (one of which I had been on while in the psych ward). I now take Zoloft and Abilify in the morning and Klonopin and Trazadone at night. Sleep, as I constantly state, are VERY important period. But they are extremely important to people that are in a constant state of thought. I think about what I’m going to do to pay rent, looking for jobs, what to do to feed my daughter, etc. You guys saw the post about trying to obtain different forms of income because inflation is kicking my butt.
Results?
It seems as though this schedule and the addition of medications has helped. I am happier on the phone and in person according to my friends. Even my Facebook friends have commented on it. I even call people and hold conversations on the phone, something that I HATED. I just call and jabber about nothing and some people actually welcome it which is cool. They’re not used to it, and neither am I.
I have been talking to my therapists about the change and they have noticed as well which is great, HOWEVER, that doesn’t mean I am cured. It also doesn’t mean that things can’t get to me. It just means that my treatment is an ongoing thing that I will deal with for the rest of my life. Remember that perfect storm I alluded to?
One of Us Was Going to Go
Monday, I took my medication as I always do in addition to my B12 and regular vitamins. My daughter and I went out to the bus. A car stopped for the yellow lights but the car behind it was itching to go anyway and laid on the horn.
I said “I don’t understand why people can’t wait for the bus. So impatient! Shit ain’t hard (I might have said the last part but I’m not sure)!” This woman decided to choose violence, rolled her window down, and said “Would you care to repeat that?” TRIGGER! Do not pick any fight with me. In MY mind, that was a challenge. I went over to the car (6 feet distance though because COVID), and I repeated myself. She proceeds to talk a bunch of shit and rolls up her window. She started fumbling around like she had something. My suicidal ideation made it so that I didn’t care if she shot me there, however, my homicidal ideation said, “Here’s your chance”. I keep something sharp on my key chain as most people, especially women, do.
She acted like she’s about to get out of the car but one of her passengers got out and closed her door. She was an older lady too which really gave me pause as to how she could be so careless. I stood there and I BEGGED that woman to get out the car and give me a reason. I LITERALLY wanted her to get out of the car so that I could go for the eye, ear, or carotid. I wasn’t going to just get shot. She was going to get something too. But I also had a feeling she was bluffing. However, my bipolar brain said that one of us was going to go and the chances of it being me were very slim with the amount of rage I have been holding in.
I was not afraid. This is a problem. I wasn’t thinking about my daughter seeing or anything. I was ready to be taken to that place that I went to many years ago when I blacked out.
Talked to the Therapist the Next Day
It just so happened that I had a visit scheduled the next day but I alerted them already that I was ready for my appointment and didn’t need confirmation.
We had to discuss how I could have handled the situation. I still don’t think I was wrong. I feel as though she thought she was a bad ass until she saw me up close and I begged her to “give me a reason”. My therapist and I then talked about the outcome if I had murdered that woman and I don’t like the psych ward so I would likely hate jail and prison as well. We had to then focus on that as well. In addition to that, my daughter wouldn’t have life insurance money, I would lose my job, etc. You can’t murder someone and keep on like nothing happened, especially if done in front of so many witnesses.
One good thing I chose to take from this experience was that 15 years ago, something like this happened, and I did actually go to pull the woman out of the car to stomp her. She got her windows up and locked her doors though. In that case, I was stretching my pills out because I didn’t have my new health insurance yet.
In the End …
I might not be a practicing Jehovah’s Witness, but Jehovah was with me (or whatever God you believe in). He could have been there for me or for that woman, but I had one thing on my mind.
I texted my daughter, told her I was sorry and that I loved her. She said she loved me too. When she got home, she really didn’t know what had happened which is when her intellectual disability comes in handy. But we discussed how violence is not the way. She reminded me of that as well.
These are my raw thoughts. I disappointed myself by letting that woman take me out of character, but I still feel as though she really thought that challenging me was the thing to do. Court wouldn’t care about my triggers. My therapists and psychiatrist would have to testify that I don’t start fights (because I don’t) and stay away from people. But it wouldn’t help if I literally murdered that woman.
I had been complaining about those people speeding up and down the hill since before COVID actually. I even sent footage to a news station as well as the police. No response. At this point I can either take my child to school (and her classmate) which would take a bit of joy away from her OR I can continue to fight by going through the proper channels to get a light put at the end of the hill. If not for the kids, but for the fences that they have to keep replacing where people are driving so fast that they go into ditches or almost go into ditches. There is a graveyard of car emblems and fenders all over the place here.
I don’t want to be the spokesperson for anyone or anything but if I don’t step up, who will? It seems as though no one actually cares. Being a bipolar empath is hard. I am always thrust into situations like this; to advocate for others, and I hate it. I just go to three places: Starbucks, the gym, and Safeway. I don’t need more things to do or places to go. Either I need to move (can’t do that) or find the proper channels to go through to fix this. My daughter’s bus is one of the earlier buses. When her bus was later, I saw the kids almost getting hit on a daily basis. Now that there is a $200 ticket for it, it’s better but that only decreases the chance of a child getting hit.
Some weeks ago, a car careened through the stop sign when my daughter was supposed to be crossing the street in the afternoon. The driver was on the phone and didn’t seem to care. I hope that ticket makes them feel better about their life.
And as I type this, people are blowing their horns and cussing each other out. Ahhhh, the song of my people. Sad! We need a light. I guess I need to get on the ball.
Rantings of a Mad Woman 