It has been one week. Seven days out of commission--physically. Which I prefer to mentally. Strep throat was followed by my first migraine, which was inconveniently incapacitating.
Planned to go to see OFP and inform her of
A) questionably timed, and some might say questionably done (but luckily not disastrous) self-styled haircut
B) questionably timed (but ultimately satisfying) redoing of kitchen floor
C) feeling leery of having Spouse out of town when things have already been unsettled
But MOSTLY I wanted to tell her that after getting off the fluoxetine, my brain seems to be doing better, and that I don't feel that I am in the mood episode state of either Depression or hypomania. Still a bit tippy, but I'm not going to be hypercritical of the fact that I am prone to mood crap, because that is unlikely to disappear.
Nor am I likely to suddenly become an average, stereotypical... anything, I guess.
Temperamentally I am still likely to do things like cut my hair and redo the kitchen floor on impulse. So if you tell me that I need to stop engaging in spur-of-the-moment projects that appeal to me I will likely tell you where you can stuff it.
The problem is intensity, duration and timing--not the things themselves.
I reserve the right to give myself a perfectly dreadful haircut and then run immediately to a professional and have the results repaired.
I am well within my rights to take on cosmetic renovations to the house (particularly when the materials come at zero cost--having been stacked in my garage for eight years).
Part of this is who I am. Part of this is who I want to be. I don't want to (nor will I) value "common sense" above all else. Creativity, ingenuity, the spark of insight, brilliance in the true shining meaning of the word...
I will pledge not to engage in ill-advised projects that endanger myself or others. Things that will interfere with the structural integrity of the house.
I will consider your advice when you tell me that my project is too big to tackle, or that it is not the right time, or that I should get help. But I will not always listen. And that does not necessarily mean I am "symptomatic."
I am me.
Quite unfortunately, OFP got hung up on the floor. (Which I already told her I realized WAS symptomatic and I followed the episode with a call to Psych NP and got off the fluoxetine which was likely causing or contributing to cycling.)
Quite unfortunately, OFP talked about how my illness could be damaging to my children and that I needed to get myself together for their sake.
(I AM TRYING AS HARD AS I CAN TO GET MYSELF TOGETHER AND I THINK I AM MAKING PROGRESS IN THIS DIRECTION!!!! WHICH DOESN'T MEAN THAT I WILL ALWAYS BE TOGETHER--WHO IS?)
Quite unfortunately, I took this to mean that I was a terrible parent and that I must hide or lie about any times that my bipolar crap is being particularly crappy. Or that any time I dip into Depression or hypomania is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. Which is not what she meant.
I don't really know what she meant, because after I heard that I was a terrible parent (again, not what she said or meant) it was sort of a really big trigger and I spent the rest of the afternoon sobbing. And OFP decided that she should be fired.
I think her thought process was that if I wasn't motivated to take care of my illness for my sake (WHICH I AM, THANK YOU VERY MUCH), I should be motivated by thinking about how it affects my family.
But when I was focused entirely too much on my children--it was to my own detriment and not sustainable.
I have another meeting scheduled for next week--where the OFP will scramble to redeem herself. And hopefully I will be able to understand what the hell she is trying to tell me. It was the first time that I have felt WORSE after leaving her office. The first time that I have not felt that she was giving me goodish advice.
Last time I went to see her she told me that I should be gentle with myself and not be all judgy and just understand that it's going to take a while to dig myself out of the apathy/Depression.
This time it felt like I was getting beat up.
Happily, the effects don't seem to have lasted beyond yesterday. They faded with the crying hangover. (Some time perhaps I will have to get drunk so that I know what a real hangover feels like. Or perhaps not.)
300 mg lamotrigine
Quaker, teacher, parent,