Story time

I thought I'd share a short story I wrote a while ago which is part fiction and part auto-biographical. I'll let you try and figure out which parts are what. 

Thanks for reading. 

Love,

P

"The Phone Call" 

   I'm sitting at the table with tears streaming down my face. The teardrops roll down my face and neck ruining my favorite shirt. 

   My vision is blurry as my eyes are overcome with drops of emotion and with my right hand I knead my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. 

   I know my mascara has run. So much for waterproof make-up. I guess the manufacturer didn't consider hysterical women in their pitch meeting. 

   The phone is lying next to me but I can't muster the courage to pick it up. Next to the phone is a slip of paper with a number I know I can trust. I just can't trust myself yet. 

    I'm still bleeding. It doesn't hurt anymore though. There's just a dull throb. I numbed it with ice prior to the blood so the pain would subside rapidly. I don't know if it's working this time. 

    My heartbeat throbs in the same steady beat as the dullness in my extremity. It's starting to turn purple. Bruising. 

    My eyes have emptied now. The tears have stopped. My eyes are suddenly Sahara dry. I look over at the phone again, pick it up and dial the number. 

    At the "Hello" at the other end, my throat closes up and I manage to mumble an apology before I hang up. I'm not ready. I thought I was ready. I just need a minute. Like all the other minutes I've needed all the other times before. 

     I head into the bathroom, turn the faucet on and splash my face with water. I wash the blood off. The sting of the water hurts more than the act itself. My eyes almost tear up again but I grit my teeth.

      I bandage myself up and head back into the kitchen. My cat wags his tail at me. I give him some kibble and sit down at the table. I pick up the phone and hear the dial. 

Oh my...

Now, I'm not trying to plagiarize George Takei here but the headline seems fitting for the subject at hand. 

You see, I've developed feelings for someone I know who, with a 100% certainty, doesn't reciprocate my feelings. In fact, I know that if he was on fire and I held the fire extinguisher he would rather drop and roll. 

What is it with the human condition that makes us masochists sometimes? I've tried going on dates with other men to get him out of my head but for now he's stuck. 

I'm pathetic I know but I honestly can't help it. I think I finally know what it feels like to have a broken heart. 

Ouch..

Love,

P

I'm back!

I'm terribly sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth like that.

The truth is that my mom found my blog and in a knee jerk reaction I deleted it. No one wants their parent to suddenly have a complete unadulterated insight into their life. 

This blog was supposed to be for me and your eyes only - not for anyone I personally know. That would make it too personal and defeat the purpose, hence the reason I panicked and deleted it in the first place. 

I decided to put it back online because I've missed writing and I think the dust has settled. If I disappear again, you'll know why but I doubt I will. 

I have tons to talk about so please bare with me and thanks for coming back to me. It's as always, much appreciated.  

Love,

P

Back on the wagon!

The dating wagon that is. 

I promised myself that after I'd gotten a stable and promising job (and I felt balanced within myself) I would begin to date again. And as I've been speaking to a lot of my friends lately I've felt very encouraged to get back out there again. The mistake of the past few weeks was just that - a mistake. We all make them. We wouldn't be human if we didn't. All we can do is learn from them and move on. Some learn faster than others. I'm over it and ready to start anew but this time I plan on taking things very slowly and not rush into things. My mistake a few weeks ago was trusting someone because they weren't a stranger. Turns out strangers aren't the only ones who keep candy. 

Funny thing is, I'm actually not looking for a relationship or a casual fling. I guess I'm just looking for some companionship (Jesus, that makes me sound so old..) I just want someone to hold my hand once in a while or give me a hug or put their arms around me on the couch. Someone to warm me on a cold night. 

The difficult part is of course weeding out the good apples from the bad. I'd like to think I'm a good judge of character but once you're in deep it can be hard to see beyond your own wants and wishes. 

So here goes nothing and I'm out there for all to see. Luckily there a "block" button for the creepy ones and the like. 

Oh, there's a message now. Better go check my inbox. Wish me luck. 

P.

..Part 2

I'm one of those people who has to talk something out (or write something down) if something is on my mind, otherwise it'll just keep festering until I go stir-crazy. To me writing is a release and whether or not my thoughts are actually read by anyone (although much appreciated) can't compare to the gratification I get by putting pen on paper. Some people excersise, cook, shop, drink etc. - I write. This works for me. 

When I was a child I used to write my mom notes instead of telling her how I felt face to face. I guess a sad part of that is that we to this day can only manage to tell eachother we love one another in emails or by messages. We've never had much of a relationship with hearts and kisses but I know the love is there so that's all that matters. But I digress..

Back to the confession. This is probably going to be one of the most selfish post I've ever written. Perhaps I can blame it on my current feverish state or that I simply just need to vent. Either way please excuse me if I start to sound like a broken record you've heard a few times before.

And if you're reading this, here's everything I wanted to say the other day but didn't: 

I can't be your friend, I don't want to be. I can't pretend I'm not attracted to you when I see you. Sure, I can hide it. I'm good at that but please don't expect us to be friends and chat like normal when we meet. I honestly don't understand why you started all of this if you knew you didn't want more - and I'm not even referring to a relationship or dirty sex. And yes, you're a man and have urges. I get that. Don't we all? You keep hiding behind all the reasons why it can't be while you tell me the "what if's" - You've told me so many times it's started to hurt. I don't know who you're trying to convince. I'd rather hear it was nothing but a game and a bit of fun. Then I could call you an asshole and move right along. I can handle ugliness but not kindness. Makes me confused. I've deleted your texts, pictures and your number so you don't have to worry about me pursuing you. I already told you I respect your wishes. I just wish you'd thought this one through before all this confusion and..I don't know what... But I'll get over it. And perhaps you should try and seduce K next time you feel the need arises. I'm sure she'll make sure you never need a cold shower ever again - you'll probably need plenty of warm ones, haha (lighten up, I thought that was funny.) 

P.

My confession..

I think I'm broken. There's no other word for what I think I am, who I am. Everytime something goes remotely right in my life I somehow manage to do something in another part to cancel it out and to remind myself that I'm not like everyone else - that I'm not meant for all the simple things everyone else takes for granted.

I was having a meaningful conversation with someone last night and was asked the usual questions about family, marriage etc. and I envied my companion who spoke with such confidence of the future while mine is just a big question mark. Sure, the idea of children sounds lovely but I don't know if I can physically have any without compromising their health as well as my own. The anti-psychotics that I'm on can cause severe birth defects so any pregnancy would have to be drug-free which in turn can/will trigger severe depressive and hypomanic episodes not to mention the higher chance for post-partum depression. There is also the possibility of passing on your chemical unbalance to your child. I think I read somewhere that the chances were 1/4. I couldn't live with myself if I were responsible for that, knowing what I've been through. Purposely inflicting that kind of pain? Unbearable. Then there's the added fears from a somewhat traumatic childhood where I was constantly in fear of my biological father coming and taking me away at any moment. He used to have people spy on us so he always had our current address and phone number even though it was unlisted. I have fleeting memories of clinging on to kindergarten teachers because he suddenly showed up trying to take me away. We used to live like spies. Barely visible. I couldn't wait till I grew up and could break free. Except it's still with me. I'd never want that for a child. Everyone thinks the person they have a child with or marry is The One but what when the facade cracks? Then what do you do, especially when you have children involved? Noticed I said "when" instead of "if"? That's a part of my problem: I'm always waiting for the piano to drop.

And forget about marriage. I honestly don't think there's someone out there for me. I know that sounds pessimistic and a scream for attention but I'm being utterly honest and humble. I've been in a few relationships and dated my fair share of men and the one thing that I can conclude is that I've never been on the same wavelenght with a single one. The ones I perhaps long for don't see me as anything other than sweet, and the ones I wouldn't touch with a hot rod, only want a quick lay. 

I have this friend to whom there's so much I want to say but it seems he's already said it all. My words have no space in our friendship. Although I do want to apologize for stepping over his boundaries and I am terribly ashamed of my behavior. My stomach is in knots. Please forgive me.

All this leaves me to wonder though: What am I even here for? Is there a point to all of this? Would I be better off by not being? Those are some of the dangerous thoughts that plague me at night..

- P. <3

My luck has turned for the better <3

Last time I posted, I wrote about being in a really good mood and having tons of energy. For those tuned into bipolar symptoms by now, I was having a hypomanic episode. It felt really good at the time so I didn't think much of it. I did crash a little afterwards but it was just a few hours extra sleep that I needed to re-energize so it was no big deal.

A big deal though is that I've finally gotten a non-HR related job! Thank the Lord. It's in the energy sector so plenty of opportunity for career progression since I'm starting at the bottom with an entry level position. I'm absolutely psyched. Definitely feel like a new leaf has been turned. I just couldn't deal with all the drama and politics that I faced working in HR. It's so draining. And I'm just talking about my co-workers!

Something odd happened though. I got hit on by someone high up in the food chain at my new company. Don't really know how to feel about it. If he wasn't who he is, I know what I would do but seeing as I'm former HR and know how wrong these things can go - everything (and everyone) is telling me to stay clear. I'm flattered because this is a McDreamy. I kid you not. Stuff like this just doesn't happen to me so I'm still stupefied by the whole thing but I'll get over it. 

Keep calm and get to work. Right?

- P <3

Today was a good day!

Today was indeed a good day. I don't know if it was because I took my pills before breakfast - before I even left the house ( I eat driving to work) or if it was that I took my pills midday yesterday. Or simply because I handed in my one week's notice because I have another job on the horizon.. 

Although you did read that correctly, I believe it was the powerful cocktail of my pills back to back the way it happened. I've gravitated towards taking my pills in the evening or simply whenever I remember (sometimes I completely forget) and so my body is probably all in turmoil and doesn't have a set schedule for when to release the medication into my system when it receives it, never mind when I forget to taken them. 

I have severe withdrawals. Just like any addict. It's awful. Truly. I don't know why I neglect myself like this. Maybe it's the hope that I'm normal after all but again, what is truly "normal"? Whose definition are we following? Our own or society's? 

Anyway, today was a good day.

-P <3

Argh!!!

Why, oh, why are people such power hungry assholes? Seriously, I want to know. The sweet colleague at my new workplace has turned into a devil in-something-that-doesn't-even-resemble Prada (and she's not even my boss!) We have the same job title yet she treats me like her secretary. And I can't say shit because I'm just a temp. That's right folks. No matter what they tell you or what the regulations say: we're still not worth a damn. Well, damn.. 

And because I have to drive for two hours to work everyday, half my salary goes to gas. So not worth it. Every time I think my luck has changed, I get reminded that it's me we're talking about and that apparently I don't seem to be worth much in other people's eyes. If I did half the things my colleague did, I'd get fired ASAP but she gets away with it. Story of my life. I need my bed and cuddles from the pups. Tomorrow is another crap day. Please wish me luck. 

-P <3

Have you taken your pill today?

I often get asked this question by my mom whenever she thinks I'm being snippy, weird, distant or hyper. Yesterday she accused me of having a "lost" look in my eyes and seemingly not being all "there." Well, unless "there" is on Mars, I can assure you I was present. I've been very tired lately and my new job is an hour's drive from home so I'm quite tired when I get home. I then have to walk both dogs before getting to remove my makeup and sitting down so understandably that takes a toll, right? Apparently not, according to my mom. She thinks I've been neglecting my meds. The thing I hate the most is when she asks me that dreaded question. I frankly find it offensive because she'll throw it at me  if I'm having a bad day as well. And she doesn't understand when I say I think it's offensive. If a boyfriend ever asked me that he wouldn't be my boyfriend for long, I'll tell you that...

I've also been on this diet for a few weeks now and been pretty good but this weekend I just had this massive craving. Think I'm getting my period soon. Not that my sweet tooth minded one bit. I had Mickey D's and my order got screwed up so I ended up with two large milkshakes. Oops. What a shame... Then I had a toffee coffee shake today along with a blueberry muffin and some candy and a coke - not at the same time!

Was contemplating a diet coke but they're even worse than the regular one's and why make things worse, right? Glad you agree ;) 

But Monday's back to dieting again. I just needed a break this weekend. Think my body was telling me something; Probably that a milkshake beats a diet shake anyday. 

- P <3

Thank YOU

I just want to say thank you to all of you who actually bother to read my blog - whether it's on a regular basis or you just happened to find my blog on accident. It actually means a lot that someone cares to read about my thoughts and feelings, especially as it's such a cathartic thing for me personally. Not to mention something I mostly keep to myself. 

Seeing that stats number rise gives me immense joy and an odd feeling of purpose. I hope I'm not being too boring/monotone/insert lame word here and that my experience of living with bipolar disorder might be educational to someone new to this world. Don't be afraid to ask any questions if you have any. I'm an open book :)

-P <3 

A bad start to something... great?

So I finally, after months and months of searching, got a job! It's only a temporary contract but it's a great role with a fantastic company and my colleagues seem lovely so far. I'm so grateful for this opportunity. I pray I don't screw it up and remember how hellish life's been these past few months whenever work is rough. My bipolar has really been acting up and I've been really low. Like, low low... 

I say it was a horrible start because I was having major issues with the recruitment company that represented me for the role. They wanted me to get three references to them in the space of a day (!) and with my crap track record of absences (and a firing) I knew I was going to have a hard time with it although I did manage it somehow. I told one of the recruiters specifically not to phone one of my former employers which he of course did and then the proverbial shit hit the fan. I don't know what they said but I'm almost 100% sure confidentiality went out the window because the recruitment agency that are representing me, and whom I am making money FOR, are treating me like shit and like I'm diseased and tainted.. 

Little do they know the reason I got fired was because I had the balls to stand up to my line manager when I felt she discriminated against me regarding my bipolar leading to - you guessed it absences. All they heard was insubordination. Anyway, guess this means I'm only going to have to work twice as hard to prove myself. I can do that. I'm a tough chick. 

Today, however, I woosah'ed the stress and shit away from yesterday and started fresh and had an awesome day. I'm even carpooling with my boss all of next week. How cool is that? That's right. I've got an in with the boss and it's only day 1 ;) 

- P <3

To be or not to be..... Happy.

I'll be honest, I feel like a complete failure. I'm currently unemployed (work as a temp but that's on a on-a-need basis so doesn't count), I live at home, I've achieved little with my Bachelors degree and I'm eternally single (of course I am, I'm not exactly a catch am I?) - not to mention I've started a diet. That's right, I've joined a wellness class. According to the Tanita readings that were done I have the body of a 40 - year- old. Gee, thanks. I've done well for myself.

 Now, according to the coach, most of this is due to dehydration and then there's the bit of unnecessary pounds that I'm sure don't help either.  Well, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired (not to mention sad and just plain unhappy with myself - bipolar illness excluded) so I decided to turn a new leaf. I said goodbye to the mean former flame with whom I had just re-started a romance (looking back I just wanted some answers I think, some what if's answered) but he turned out mean this time. He wasn't last time. I'm not a masochist, don't worry, although looking at my dating history it might certainly seem like it. Anyway, got rid of him after basically being called the Anti-Christ and I feel much better for it. I didn't want him to aggravate my bipolar in any way because just thinking about him hurt. I also haven't been too stable lately so I knew it was bound for a downwards spiral - and fast. It also helps to have wonderful friends who also think he's the biggest asshat on the planet.. 

Back to point, changing my lifestyle is what I think needs to finally happen to get some sort of balance in my life. I know I'll fail a few times. I'm bound too but that's okay as long as I don't give up. Luckily I have a coach this time which I've never had before. That will help with my motivation. I've also applied for over a 100 jobs (I kid you not) so there's bound to be one in there for me, right? Just nod your head and agree with me. Would make me feel better ;) As for the housing situation, I'm lucky to live at home and pay limited rent and eat for free. See? I'm thinking positive :) And the single life? Meh, I've access to an unlimited supply of chocolate should the need arise. I think I'll be fine.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to comment. I'd love to hear from you!

- P <3

Dating... Yikes.

Confession. I'm horrible at this dating thing. I don't even think I like it but then again, who does? I also think I'm a crappy date. Let me explain: I'll "ace" the first date like it's some kind of test but then after the second one the guys just seem to dwindle away. Usually because they're so "busy" or just "not ready to date right now" since they've just come out of a relationship. No. I think the problem lies with yours truly. And I don't really know why. I'm not clingy, not obsessive, not materialistic and I don't expect the guy to pay. I would actually prefer to go dutch to be completely honest. Something about not wanting to owe him anything. Yes, I have issues.. But, and this is a major but, I think I'm easy. If I really like someone I might sleep with them on the second date and I'm not afraid of kissing. I know I'm giving the milk away for free but am I not allowed to have some fun if he's not looking for anything else anyway?

The guys I've dated are really smooth talkers even though I tell them I see through their bullshit. Somehow, I keep falling for it time after time. I do, however, have standards and don't take crap that compromises me in any way, shape or form. And I only give a guy a chance so many times. I'm not afraid of deleting their numbers and telling them straight if they're being asshats. It's the ones that are nice but players that always get me. 

And in the back of my mind I'm also always thinking about how to potentially tell a new boyfriend about my illness. Tricky. Very tricky indeed. The boyfriends that I've had (and there hasn't been many) have been fine with it and have always said they could never tell and somehow they've ended up being more messed up than me. Huff. Someone please save me from these wounded birds. I'm not looking to save anyone, just as little as I'm looking for anyone to save me. I can manage just fine on my own, thank you. 

Thank you for reading. Means the world. I'll blog more soon.

- P <3

What being Bipolar means in my case {and everyone's story is different}

The general population's idea of what it means to be Bipolar is of someone with extreme mood swings - someone going from happy-go-lucky to bitchy to depressed. That might be the case for a select few but if so then those traits were already a part of their personality to begin with. The illness has nothing to do with being mean to other people as I know it's so easy for people to throw out "Oh, she's just so Bipolar today" if someone they know is having an off day or PMS'ing. I've never in my life been purposely mean to anyone or been bitchy on purpose due to or (or excluding) my illness. I always try to treat people the way I'd want someone to treat me BUT unfortunately for my mom, if I am PMS'ing, she's the one who gets in the crossfire when I do get cranky. I'm by no means perfect. No excuses but she's my mom and she has no problem telling me my period is due soon either.. 

The way my illness has burrowed its symptoms into my brain is that I can feel normal one day (and by normal I mean I feel that I have a bright future ahead and that everything is fine) and the next day I can feel like life isn't worth living anymore. It can then shift again the following day. Usually for me to get into a deep depressive state there's a gradual descent into the darkness. This can be anything from a few days to a week. And when I am in that dark place it can take me a very long time to get out of it. I am, however, a master of disguise and if you were to meet me on one of my dark days you wouldn't think anything different of me. I don't let the world know what's happening within me. Some people do and good for them. I don't. I can't. I'm terribly at explaining myself in person (it's easier to write my feelings down) so if I were to say something people would just probably think I was moaning or being a baby. The only person I can really be honest with is my GP because he's the source of my medication so I need to be - for both our sakes.

Another symptom that I have, which is noticeable if you really know me, is the hypomania. When the hypomania hits (and it doesn't fairly often anymore) then I'm like an OCD caffeine-doped robot obsessed with perfection. I'll also have severe insomnia and but my mood or effectiveness won't be affected. 

After the hypomania is over though I'll crash into a depression which is usually deep. Thankfully, I don't become hypomanic that often anymore. The crashes are horrible to live through. It's like my body just goes into hibernation and I don't function anymore. And it's not like I'm cute as a bear cub either, more like I look like I belong at the local dive-bar with a shot of JD eternally being poured in front of me.. Oh joy.

As always, thank you for reading. I'll blog more soon.

- P <3 

The year I partied like a madman

Any journal of medicine regarding Bipolar disorder will tell you that people diagnosed with Bipolar disorder are more likely to have addictive personalities, abuse alcohol and drugs and be hyper sexual. The year before being diagnosed I had a year of excessive partying fuelled with alcohol, sex and an outrageous amount of money being spent. I spent my hard earned money like it was my last day on earth and I was happy to be alive. A lot of it was spent on the alcohol I was consuming while taking Sertraline, which by the way, was a terrible idea as my body still hadn't gotten used to the medication and so the alcohol stayed in my system for much longer than a person not on the medication. I can today safely enjoy a cocktail without getting drunk but back then just one drink would have me buzzed and ready to go. Along with being in college and the drinking culture that's prevalent there you can imagine how easily things got out of hand. Throw in a few bad seeds in my group of friends and you've got a recipe for a disaster. I've been on so many binges I can't count them and blacked out a few times. Almost got arrested once too for drunk and disorderly conduct.. Not something to be proud of. And the sex. I had my first kiss the same night I lost my virginity at 21. Yes, 21. Luckily it was with a friend of mine so it was a good experience and I have no regrets.

But imagine that 21 year old on medication, drunk, chemically unstable and at the wrong place at the wrong time. Needless to say my number is high but I've always been safe and never gotten any diseases. Nor have I been pregnant although I've had a few scares. Thank God my stupidity never reached a higher level. My point is, sex was never something I truly enjoyed. It was just a need mixed with reckless behavior caused by my illness. I could have sex without any feelings involved whatsoever. That's why one night stands suited me perfectly: no strings and no one got hurt. Hypersexuality is not something that is often spoken about. It's something dirty, something people tend to be ashamed of. I did too until I realized it was a part of the disease not a part of who I am as a person. My behavior has changed with medication, a change of scenery, different friends and better self confidence. 

Still to this day I struggle a bit with intimacy. Sex still doesn't mean much to me. Cuddling on the other hand does. I think that's far more intimate than taking my clothes off will ever be.

Thank you for reading. Will blog more soon.

- P <3 

     

A will you say?

So, I know this sounds terribly morbid but because of all my depressive thoughts lately I've decided to write a will. This is just to make sure my animals are cared for in the case I were to die. I started thinking about it after the recent suicides in the media and I didn't want my loved ones stuck with the burden of caring for my dogs if they weren't able too. I therefore contacted two of my closest friends. One lives here and the other, my best friend, lives in Washington and asked them if they would be willing to adopt them in case I ever died before my dogs. They were both concerned by my question (understandably) but they were both more than willing to take a dog each. Now, you're probably thinking I've got some grand plan to off myself. No. I just need reassurance that my dogs will be taken care of should I ever feel so low, like I have many times before, that I might have suicidal thoughts. I'm not saying I would do anything to harm myself but the thought that I wouldn't leave them without anyone to care for them is very reassuring to me.

Obviously, as one can tell, this isn't the normal thoughts that run though one's brain on a daily basis but in my Bipolar brain it is. At least it has been lately. That's why I needed to get the matter sorted and get some peace. My dogs love my friends and they love them so I know everything would be okay in the end. And for those of you thinking suicide is a selfish act. Depression is a very lonely thing and unless you've been through it, please don't judge me.

Thank you for reading. Will post again soon.

- P <3

So it begins...

Welcome to my blog :) 

I've wanted to write one for a really long time but have never really had the courage to do so before. I'm at a stage in my life where things are very stagnant and I need to relieve some pressure and stress that I'm feeling and I think this might be a good outlet for me to do so. Hopefully it might also be of some interest to those of you (if anyone does!) reading this. If I can share some insight into my experience with mental illness, as taboo and stigmatised as it might be, then I'd consider myself blessed.

I first got diagnosed with depression and anxiety at college many years ago while studying in Washington State. It happened my first semester as a freshman not long after Spring Break. I absolutely loved school and was making new friends but was still struggling with the anxiety I'd had my entire life and I therefore decided to go and speak to the school psychologist. We had a few chats about my history and I was quickly diagnosed with depression and anxiety and sent off to see the resident Psychiatrist who put me on Sertraline. I still continued to see the psychologist for another year or so every single week being closely monitored as well as seeing the Psychiatrist every four weeks for a chat about the dosage on the medication. 

After about a year or so, as a junior, noticing that my depression hadn't shifted much and my mood swings would alternate quite rapidly (I could be fine one week and depressed and bedridden the other) the doctors decided to put me on a higher dose of Sertraline. This is what ultimately triggered my Bipolar to appear in full force according to my psychiatrist. A few months after that my self harming and suicidal thoughts had started to worsen to the point at which they had never been before. I had always had suicidal thoughts but thoughts of self harm were for "other people" not sane people like myself... During a period of two weeks I ended up beating my forearms so hard they bruised, I would pinch so hard I'd bleed internally and I started cutting myself. I remember consciously going to Wahlgreens and buying razors, bandages, antiseptic wipes and ice packs.  I remember being excited about it too. Like I was shopping for a new dress or some new shoes... The sickest thing is that I would take photos of what I had done to later look at. The pain felt like such a relief and looking at the photos made me feel powerful. My dogs make me feel good these days. Animals are amazing companions. They give us unconditional love and devotion and they expect nothing in return.

I did, however, realize that what I was doing was wrong and after those two weeks and went to my psychologist, told her everything and was promptly diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. I was in denial and scared because in my mind the next step for me would be to slip into Schizophrenia. Especially when she kept asking if I heard voices. The answer to that was then and is still to this day no. I cannot imagine the pain someone with Schizophrenia goes through on a daily basis. And I think I have it tough sometimes..  Anyway, I was told to see my psychiatrist who prescribed me with several different anti-psychotics before we found the one that worked for me, Topiramate. Now, Topiramate or Topamax is an anti-convulsant drug used for people who suffer from seizures and is also used for migraines but it is starting to be fairly commonly used as an anti-psychotic. I started out a low dose and increased my dosage. Over the years I've adjusted the dosage several times. 

Now, at age 25, I'm on 250mg of Topiramate a day as well as 150mg of Sertraline. Being on medication doesn't mean that my life is normal and that everything is okay 100% of the time but it does mean that I feel balanced for a lot of the time, however, I still have my depressive states or my hypomanic phases even on the medication which can feel quite baffling sometimes. The environment I'm in and stress-factors also trigger a phase. I recently had a really bad spell where I wanted to cut. I haven't had one of those in years and that was me on the medications. I spoke to my GP about it but he didn't think there was reason enough to alter the medication and he was right. The feeling passed after a week or so but it can be quite scary when you're in it. I've had quite a few bad spells lately and actually lost my job because of it so feeling like a failure and knowing you're got fired for being ill is not a good feeling. I'll explain more in a later post. It's a long story.

I've been very lucky to have such a supportive team of medical professionals around me. I know some people don't feel like their doctors understand them and that can certainly slow down the healing process. I feel especially thankful since I don't have such good support at home. My mom is very New Age and doesn't believe in medications. She'd rather I exercise the brain well.. Thank you, mother. Well, it's my life and I chose to take my medications and live. I can't please everyone anyway not even if I tried.

Thank you for reading. I'll blog more soon.

-P <3