Off the cuff

My first visit to a personal psychiatrist, mid-October 2014, and I am 49 years-old. I cry, I pout, I cry harder, I talk incessantly and I hear the words from my Dr., “you are a high functioning Bi Polar I personality.” Excuse me??? Dr. goes on to say that I “ignored my mental health for years.” That was NOT a true statement! I didn’t have the energy to fight back with her.

T

To clarify, I need to write about my prior mental health and seeking help. The first time I sought therapy for myself was in the early 90’s, when I heard about “Imago” therapy (“imago” is the Latin word for image). It proved to be quite successful for couples who were on the brink of divorce...it brought them back to the “honeymoon phase” of their relationship. So, I thought to myself, why not try it? Prior to that, in my late 20’s I think, I had what I considered a breakdown. I called out sick three days in a row; nothing was wrong with me, but I NEEDED to sleep. That would turn out to be my drug of choice, if you will.

I remember seeing a Charter Oak hospital commercial that third day (although I had seen it a hundred times before) and I knew I needed help. I remember literally crying the entire day, and I am not a crier. I hesitantly picked up the phone and dialed the 800-crazy me number. I spoke to Patti, the receptionist, and she booked me an appointment with a counselor at 7:00 p.m. that night. Again, this topic will be its own chapter.

Back to Dr. who tells me I need to be medicated as I am too “manic.” Hmmm, I always thought I had high energy. And what the hell does manic mean??? I know depression, it’s a family tradition.

I cannot recall all of the names of the medications I have tried, but here are a couple that stand out: lithium, which I took for four days and made me feel “out of my body.” After I took said med for a few days, I was awoken from a nap by my psychiatrist who called me and said “stop taking the Lithium! You are at level nine!” This was no joke because I remember her telling me that any level over five could turn lethal. Funny, I don’t like cats.

Sometime during that first-year of my diagnosis, I took Seroquil, which I called “Seracrazy.” Every time I went outside to smoke a cigarette, I would glare at all the cactus...wishing I had a machete to whack off all the branches. (I did find an outlet for the unexplained anger. I bought a wooden bat. A friend of mine had offered me a free kickboxing bag and stand, so I had it stored in the garage. I can honestly state with absolute certainty that if you swing the bat with all your might against the kickboxing stand, you might just knock it over. But one swing didn’t quite “cure” me; on average, 10 to 12 swings worked best. I was physically exhausted but relieved. Wake up next morning, get angry again and swing away at night.

Then there was the dreaded weight gain. I am only 5’0 short but I had maintained a weight of approximately 130, give or take a couple of pounds. I was happy with my body image in my forties. The following five years years escalated my weight to a whopping total of 190 pounds, completely unacceptable! Thank goodness for XL sweats and tank tops but my underwear didn’t fit.

I don’t recall exactly when I stopped taking Seracrazy, but I finally talked with my psychiatrist about the anger and weight gain. She ultimately put me on Latuda (an anti-psychotic), which I ended up calling “Lacrazy.” Over the next year, my psychiatrists would say, roughly every three months, that I was still manic, so the dose increased from 20mg to 40. Six months after that. Apparently STILL too manic, so an increase from 40 mg to 60 mg. Yup, you probably guessed it, I ultimately went from 60 mg to 80 mg.

Over a span of two years at that dose, I became what is known as “dulled out.” Lack of energy to do anything, including personal care. Avoidance can work in your favor because if you don’t look in the mirror you’ll never know how bad you look. At that point I just stopped caring...about housework, cooking, spending time with family and friends but most importantly myself. Sidenote: I’ve been with my psychologist for weekly sessions for roughly eight years, but that will be another chapter.

So what did I do all day you may ask? Eat, sleep, ignore phone calls (unless it was my family) and learn to play spades online. I did do some short stories that, at a later point in time, I will share with you. I also became addicted to malt balls, Reese’s peanut butter eggs and currently mint chocolate chip ice cream bars.