Slogging through the days

Wonder why I bother correcting typos. Trying to go off one of four meds—trileptal—to induce some mania. Doc can't really help any more. If current mix is working, stay with it, etc. Too fucking depressed, angry. Anxiety leading up to party for my daughter's marriage—meet the in-laws thing. No sympathy from Liz. She's my only outside contact for this. I am practicing suicide notes.

Off and on the wagon

After a couple nights back to imbibing, I tapered off last night. I love the feeling in the morning when I abstain. But I think it is that "can't get used to life without the bipolar guy in the picture" that I sabotage myself with.

I can go to bed thinking "I did everything right, so catharsis, here I come". Then I don't get it so I lay in bed not getting up because the depression is still there.

Only a little suicide ideation this morning. That is a relief. I should be grateful. Then again, everybody says, "Be grateful you aren't so-and-so, or dead already". What kind of life is it, and what kind of person am I if I go around with my reason for living gratitude? Gratitude to whom?

Breaking the rules

I thought, for some reason, I could maintain my upper mood swing and get away with returning to my drinking lifestyle in tandem with sleeping in. Nine and half hours after four vodkas and here I am, defeating myself. That was four drinks in about six hours. No, really. Maybe even seven. Close to midnight.

And we are invited to the vodka people's house for dinner tonight and will doubtlessly drink some more. The depression is debilitating but I insist on doing things I know will exacerbate it. Also, I don't want to cook tonight.

I already told them I stopped drinking, or at least at home where I can control it. But I then assured them I knew what I was doing. He, (vodka friend) told me to call him whenever I felt depressed. He is thinking of it as if it were short term and got better with a little empathy/sympathy. He is good that way but I don't think I want to bring him into the whole bipolar thing. Going from drinking to not drinking socially or otherwise puts one in a different class. People treat you differently and stop inviting you over. Sometimes they indicate their rejection by asking you if you want a drink, then correcting themselves, "Oh, that's right, you're not drinking anymore." They have a new language they speak with you in front of others. Full of code. You make them uncomfortable.


later

Tainting the experiment

I had a glass of wine last night. About four hours before bed, with dinner out. Since everybody is espousing the virtues of red wine, I stuck with that. Still feel pretty good this morning although I slept in. No mania yet. Dreary sky. Spelling still terrible.

How do you spell mania?

I wanted it and here it is. Getting lots of work done, kitchen in perfect order, a new pitcher of decaf iced green tea, dozens of new creative project ideas, clean, showered, clean clothes on, laundry put away, lawn watered, stinky sport shoes and sandals washed and listening to "You keep me Hanging On" by Vanilla Fudge.

Then there is the occasional wicked grin while jumping up and down with fists clenched and silently saying "GO, GO, GO".

Oh, and I am eating up all the old fruit around the house.

File under C for catharsis

Day three following night three of not drinking. Not that I don't miss it. It helps though to remember how foul it tasted when I missed my meds. It occurred to me that different meds clear the system at different rates, so the metallic taste I get when I miss taking the whole batch could be from one staying in my system longer, interacting with the alcohol/taste buds.

The catharsis was that on the first day without drinking the night before, I felt so much better. Now that I am on day three, I still feel better but now I want improvement on the day before. I want joy, giddiness, mania. I miss mania.

Something I should share with you, and also mention so I can better remember it: improvement takes practice. You (and I) have to practice staying "Up" because we are working to NOT be that depressed/manic person being treated.

Did that make sense? We are used to being the bipolar fuck-up, low self-esteem, self-hating, fast talking, volatile person who sought treatment in the first place.

Still is a bit vague. I am not used to feeling better so I have to stay focused on what it is like so I can repeat it more easily every day. Like playing scales on the piano.

That's the best I can do right now. This is a blog, not a treatise.

Going to put on socks and shoes, do a little work and walk the dogs.

I did exercise a LOT of patience and finally got through the phone calls necessary to get refunds for two pair of shoes purchased on line that I returned in June. Yay me. Way to go John. You are soooooo badass.

Hey, it is real money, off my credit card, don't have to pay, persistence paid off, got what I deserve, didn't settle for less, did not compromise.

That's practice, isn't it?

Alcohol and bipolar

Second day without booze. I reluctantly admit that I feel cheerier. Slept in and even that did not cause the devastating depression I am used to. I hate to "blame" alcohol as I like it. One note however: On my regimen of Lamictal, Trileptal, Cymbalta, Risperdol and Welbutrin, things taste different from time to time and spoil the enjoyment.

I am curious about this funny taste thing. I also am very sensitive to smells. Let me know if you have had any similar experience with these drugs. I am assuming it is the drugs.