I’m losing my mind. Seriously, this is no joke.
I no longer know where I’m going — physically and mentally. I got lost making my way out of the Price Chopper parking lot the other day. I was confused and discombobulated and had to pull over to figure out where I was and how to get out.
I can thank this to the latest medication I have tried to combat my bipolar disorder, the second in as many months. The third to begin soon.
Why another change? Well after getting discombobulated, I admitted to my mother while driving home and talking to her on the phone that I could barely keep my eyes open. My body was shutting down, I was weak and lethargic, and I just needed her to keep talking to me until I could make it there. Once home, too tired to drag in the groceries, I said goodbye to mom, stumbled up the front steps and made my way to the couch where I remained in a deep, unconscious sleep for two hours.
Feeling a little less bedraggled, I dragged myself out of the house and made my way to a cooking party at my friends house. A little zoned out, I feigned being social, put my meals together half-heartedly and as I felt my body start to return to its weakened state, I begin an internal mantra … “please don’t fall out of your chair, please don’t fall out of your chair.” Yes, that is what I was worried about at that moment in time.
This mantra continued as I drove myself the 10 minutes home, yet a little differently. “Please stay awake, please don’t go off the road. Please just make it home.” And by the grace of God I did, once again leaving the food/groceries in the car and crawling back to my couch for another two hours.
I woke briefly around dinner time. Scarfed down a Greek yogurt and put myself to bed by 8:30. A nice 10-12 hour nap should do the trick.
It didn’t. I awoke achey, and headachey and my arms and fingertips tingled, as did my face and neck. I also couldn’t stop pulling on my sweatshirt collar afraid it wouldn’t let lose and tie itself tighter around my neck than it already felt.
Fear creeping in, I called my husband to come home as I waited over an hour for the doctor to return my call. When he finally did call the answer … “I’m not sure. There’s too many factors. The flu? The cold medicine? An interaction between that and your meds? Side effects to your meds?”
The decision was made to discontinue all medications immediately (which I already had decided the night before) and wait for an appointment to see him in two days.
The appoint has come and gone and now I’m just waiting for insurance approval on the new mediation. And I’m told I could be waiting and waiting and waiting …
Meanwhile my bipolar systems have returned, which I am told are mixed symptoms. My body feels the depression, physically. I can barely make it two hours without needing a nap, which makes it very difficult to work, to be a mom, to function. Oh, and the tears are mighty quick to fall when anything does not go according to plan. Spontaneity is feared at this time.
On top of that I get manic symptoms in the form of a non-stop conversation with the inadequate, lacking self-esteem, perseverating version of myself that lives inside my head. That non-stop conversation makes it difficult to concentrate, organize and be creative. All things in great need to complete my job and daily tasks.
Ativan has been in high demand over the last couple of days, and I can’t wait to see what happens when I get up to speak fluently and in an organized manner to a group of lacrosse parents tonight. I can already feel the dread.
I don’t know how long I can keep this up. This facade of a person who doesn’t know who I am or what I will be feeling next.
I am losing my mind. No joke.
I am seriously losing my mind.