The first thing that is still on my mind and still bothers is my medications, (not physically as in side effects) even though I have resigned myself to the fact that they are going to play necessary part in my life, well for the rest of my life, if I want to be able to live life the sort of life that I want and as such build that life for myself. I think what it is more the fact of the new medication that was added and from what I can tell seems to be having a very positive effect, (along with the upping in dose of my existing one) even though a part of me wishes that it wasn't simply so that I would not have to take it.
In part of because what type of drug the medication is considered, even though it has a range of uses for things that don’t approach what the name would suggest. What I am getting at is that it is considered an “antipsychotic type” drug. I know logically that they are not uncommon sort of drug used in conjunction with others to treat Bipolar Disorder, and that the use of such drugs does not at all indicate that one is or has been “psychotic” which I know I have not been. I know in my case a big part of why I was given it was to help to “calm” my mind, to help deal with the fact that it would go racing during the day and at night making it hard to get to sleep. Not only that but to sort of help in conjunction with my first medication with the exaggerated and unrealistic fears and guilt that I was experiencing. Which it does quite well at and which in turn helps me function so much better at work. (and at home for that matter) However it still somehow represents a blow to my view of myself, like somehow a last little refuge has slipped away.
It is like a final blow to the notion that I don’t really have anything wrong with me was made, and that now there really is no way to twist things to deny it, and it is like a part of what I was in the past has suddenly finally been pulled away. I know that logical this does not make sense, but sometimes in life logic just doesn't apply especially when it comes to emotions, and emotional reactions to events. Because logically this should have come quite some time ago, after all I was diagnosed a little over two years ago, but after a relatively short and unsuccessful attempt to deal with my very mixed depression, things suddenly changed (along with me going from graveyards back to dayshift) and I then promptly decided I was all well and that the diagnosis was not true. At which point I stopped taking my meds against my pdoc’s(psychiatrist) at the times recommendation and stopped seeing him altogether Too. Which then lead to a short period of just being on top of the world, which like always eventually crashed, and when it did as my long time followers know it crashed hard. It was then that I was hospitalized (for the first time ever) for being suicidally depressed, and I was once again diagnosed with Bipolar by the doctor at the hospital, at which point I finally forced to admit that this must be true, and that I would have to do something about it, and then resigned myself to it when my current pdoc confirmed the other two diagnoses. Yet in some way not being on a major psychiatric typ durg made it somehow fell like I was somehow less mentally ill even though with the addition of this drug nothing has actually changed about how my diagnosis at all. Maybe it is just the different social programed stigma that comes along with the word, then the reality of the drug, but somehow it does make a difference in one's view of themselves. It is like an old view died and I have to sort of mourn its passing so that I can ultimately accept the new view and work it into one that I can live with and works for me.
The second thing that has been I guess I could say is haunting me, is something that I have touched on before and even mention just a few moments ago in this post, and that is my hospitalization itself. I say haunting me as for no clear reason to me I will be doing something, and all of a sudden it is like a brief clip of a disjointed movie just pops into my mind, from the very short time that I was in the hospitals “behavioral health” unit. only unlike a movie along with it comes a lot of strong emotions, along with a very palatable fear, not just of something like that happening again, but of the memory fragment itself. I have also had brief I guess you could call it nightmares where bits of disjointed memory are mixed in with fictional constructions of my own mind but in such a way that it is all but impossible to remember what is a true piece of memory and what is just fiction of my mind's own creation. It is something that I don’t like experiencing and is something that I find to be very upsetting and extremely unpleasant, as well as disrupting and quite threatening in a way as well.
I don’t know why I keep experiencing these as they seem to have been a relatively constant thing from some time after that threw to the present, and I do wish that they would just stop and go away. Although recently they seem to be becoming more frequent, with my best guess being that it is in part to do with the fact that it is coming up on a year since well you can probably guess. This is the thing that is bothering me the most as it is one that I can’t really seem to escape, and is the one thing that I feel most threatened by. If I could I would simply wish them away, I would wish on the first star of the night, rub a lucky rabbit foot, do any superstitious, to wish these random disjointed memories away. Unfortunately doing any of that will have no affect on it, and I am at a honest loss about how to deal with it then, to try to shake them out of my head when they do pop up.
I know that this has been quite a long post and I would like to thank you all for baring with me and getting this far. Goodbye until next time dear readers.