What A Difference (A Day Makes)

And, just like that……I’m okay again.

A week-and-a-half ago, I was boarding the crazy train. Four days ago, I was ready to dive out a tenth-floor window. Two days ago, I complained to Will because I felt so flattened emotionally. Then yesterday was just awful, as it was a day of mourning and what would have been a milestone in our Melissa’s life.

Today, however, I knew I was better the instant I woke up, and the mellow mood has persisted into the evening hours despite the fact that I spent the entire workday fighting with the computer system. And to be honest, I think I just needed to get through March 26th. I get a little buggy every year in late March anyway, and this being the 30th anniversary of my daughter’s birth and death made the day even harder than usual.

I hope this is the beginning of good times again. I’ve been on a roller-coaster ever since mid-February and I am beyond ready to disembark. I’ve missed out on so much……things going on in my family’s and friends’ lives, current events (wasn’t there something recently about a plane disappearing into the Indian Ocean?), other birthdays and anniversaries. I haven’t even written an article for my nursing website—you know, the people who actually pay me to write—in over a month. I just haven’t had it to give.

This is why I hate the mixed episodes so much. Not only am I uncertain whether I’m up or down, I become very self-absorbed and isolate myself from everyone and everything that might be helpful in getting me OUT of that distressing state. I don’t even call Dr. Awesomesauce until I’m so sick and confused that it frightens me. I’ll call when I’m depressed, I’ll even call when Manic Barbie starts using my mouth to spout her nonsensical ideas, but when I’m mixed I just go around in circles, fretting endlessly and not knowing what to do about it. I can’t really even articulate it adequately, so when I do end up calling, it comes out like “I’m manic, I’m depressed, I’m anxious, I don’t know my butt from a bucket……HELP!!”

I have to call in Monday to let him know how things are going. In a way I hope he does taper me off the Zyprexa, because I’m still pretty groggy during the early part of the day, and it’s bad form to fall asleep at my work station. I also whined to Will the other night about missing my natural intensity, to which he replied, “You don’t seem flat to me—you’re just acting NORMAL now.”


Yet in another way, I wish Dr. A would leave me on the Z, even though it’s bad for my diabetes and my girlish figure……so what if I end up on insulin? If I can’t maintain some semblance of mental health, I probably won’t need to worry about my weight or my blood sugars anyway.

But that’s a bridge I’m not going to cross at this point. The meds are for him to figure out; all I have to do is take them as directed. For now, it’s enough just to get my head above water and breathe in some fresh spring air. Ahhhh……..much better! 🙂

Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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