Had my visit with Dr. Goodenough last Wednesday, and as I’d expected, he wants me on the new Zyprexa dose for good. It’s OK, because I’m over the idea that I’m on too much medication (an idea he thought was quite laughable when I mentioned it) and I don’t have the slightest wish to mess with the magic formula. We chatted about how much I’ve settled down since the last time he saw me and how quiet my brain is now, and I thanked him heartily for being so on top of my illness. He was happy things had worked out, but he also decided that we would forever after meet in the late winter, before the annual springtime festivities commence.
But best of all was the note he left in my chart: In full remission. As in completely well. Mentally healthy. Dare I say it? Normal.
I’ve never been here before. Even Dr. Awesomesauce, as dear as he was, never gave me a clean bill of health. I was always “in partial remission”, or “depressed”, or I exhibited “manic behavior”. It almost gave me a complex: what did I have to do to earn that blessed pronouncement of full remission? But looking back over the years, I can see why he was so stingy that way, because I really WASN’T well. Maybe not sick, but definitely not where I should have been. Who knew that all it would take to get there was a tablet and a half of the miracle drug known as Zyprexa?
I look back over the last few months and wonder what on earth made me think that not taking all my meds as prescribed was an option, or that not sleeping was a good thing. Yes, I enjoyed my hypomania even though it was mild compared with past episodes, but I don’t enjoy spending money with nothing to show for it, or having racing thoughts 24/7, or dealing with excessive energy that had no place to go but through my feet and legs. I couldn’t even channel it into something productive, like cleaning or cooking. Instead of talking a mile a minute, my mind was so cluttered that I couldn’t really speak at all. Everybody thought I was just being quiet, but my brain was like a sky full of shooting stars—brilliant but utterly disorganized. I wrote my blog posts only on days when it all slowed down enough for me to make sense.
All that’s in the past now. The rapid cycling is gone and relative serenity has taken its place. That’s not to say everything is perfect; in fact I had a couple of VERY bad thoughts this evening due to tensions in the house, but they were easily dismissed as I realized that the feelings were coming from an entirely different place. I’m lonely, dammit, and sometimes I need to acknowledge that fact. I miss my husband, and never more than when I see couples loving, laughing, fighting, and living together.
But I’m well, and for the most part, I’m safe and comfortable. And for once, I don’t have bipolar DISorder, I have bipolar IN order.