It’s been two months since Dr. Goodenough increased my Zyprexa dose, and I continue to be utterly without bipolar symptoms. It’s even hard to write about it because there is nothing happening other than blessed remission. I don’t remember EVER being this calm before. It’s amazing!
I’m sleeping well too. I dream some pretty interesting dreams though. Last night I dreamt that it was the day before Thanksgiving and I had waited literally till the last minute to buy the makings of the traditional dinner. So I went to the grocery store and couldn’t find 90% of what I needed. There were no turkeys. There were no pumpkin pies or even the ingredients to make one. There was Stove Top stuffing mix on the shelves, and there was butter, but there weren’t any yams, potatoes, cranberry sauce or veggie trays. Needless to say I was panicked, and I ended up driving to several other stores where I couldn’t find a place to park, let alone the items I was looking for. The dream ended when I woke up, but the frustration remained for a few minutes as I processed it. I don’t always remember my dreams, but this one was so realistic I was as tired as I would have been had I actually done the things in the dream.
As always, I wonder about its meaning. I like to analyze dreams, and some of them are easy to figure out, like the ones about Will which are always pleasant, and he always looks like he did in his prime. I love those dreams. But this one…other than the obvious lesson not to delay getting the stuff for the holiday meal, I’m baffled. Yes, I have some unresolved angst from being broke most of the time (but all the bills are paid!) and living in a house with some very complex personalities, but the latter is endlessly interesting and I enjoy being Switzerland in a world of frequent conflicts.
Which is a place I never thought I would occupy. I’ve always been hot-tempered and easily agitated, but since I began taking bipolar medication I’ve become really mellow. There’s just not a lot to get worked up about. I do get anxious when I’m triggered, but my triggers are fewer and farther between than they used to be. I love that. I sometimes think about my parents and how shocked they would be to know their tempestuous daughter is no longer an angry person. Of course they would be ashamed of the fact that I have a mental illness, but I bet they’d approve of my choice to take meds that make it almost non-existent.
Then again, I’m three months shy of turning 60, and I’d like to think that some of this is due to maturity. Most things are not worth fighting about, and even those that are can usually be dealt with rationally. I’ve also learned to avoid most of what does upset me, which means staying away from people and places that make me uncomfortable. While I feel sad that this has caused me to walk away from a couple of relationships, my mental health requires that I do so. I just don’t have it to give anymore…I hate drama with a passion, and I’m too old and tired for the theatrics.
So there really is nothing to see here, just an experienced woman who lives a rich life, even though it may not seem so to the outside observer. In the meantime, Fall is here and the trees are beautiful, and that beauty feeds my soul despite knowing that winter is coming.
It’s all good.