I’m going along just fine, enjoying my new days of being depression-free – not feeling great, but still better, when BOOM! I have to adjust the mood meds again. Doubling the dosage to get me where the Psychiatrist wants me to be. Every time I change the dosage, I get radical side effects. Today, I cried so hard that my diaphragm was sore for hours after.
I had confrontational “words” with my grown son and told him to not visit me in the future.
I got Mother’s Day flowers from my sweet daughter. I filled the vase with water and then it dropped to the floor. Water everywhere. Thank god the vase was a cheapie plastic one.
It’s 8:15, and I’m in bed. I can’t face anymore yuck today. Inside, I FEEL the dying I do daily. We all die a little each day, right? Imagine “feeling” it. Strange sensation.
If I had my choice, I’d wait about 2 hours – make sure it’s very dark out – and then stand next to the interstate – where a semi-truck wouldn’t see me until it was too late to slow. I’m sure I’d feel the intitial impact, but not afterward.
No, I’m not suicidal. I don’t need a hotline or a trip to the psych ward. I need to be normal again, whatever that is. I can’t really remember what “normal” feels like. I have had 2 years of solid hypomania, then 2 years of drepression (some minor. some extremely bad). Only recently did I get a diagnosis of Bipolar, type 2, so I can get proper help!
I write to get the desperation from my chest. To purge some pain.
If you are praying person, remember me tonight?
I love you guys!