Ten Minutes

The fun continues. I’m on day 5 of the full dose of Lamictal that’s supposed to fix the way I’ve been feeling for weeks, but apparently that takes time because I’m anxious as fuck and irritable beyond belief and so completely unable to handle stress that I had to come home from the office early because I couldn’t even work. I felt like I was going to lose my shit at any moment and I’m really trying to avoid that happening at the office. When I was standing out in the cold waiting for my Uber, freezing half to death and crying a little bit, I had vague thoughts of taking myself to the hospital so I could just rest and be somebody else’s problem for a little while, but then realized that wouldn’t help. I learned a few things in my time there, but ultimately that place didn’t really help me. It kept me safe from myself for a few days and that was it. Nothing was lastingly better in any significant way after I came home. But how and when the fuck am I going to get better? I’m so tired and frustrated and pissed off because every time I go to my doctor he’s like “SOON” and I’m like “THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH” and he just smiles and tells me to be patient because he doesn’t have to walk around in this body every day feeling at least three-quarters of the way out of his mind. Instead of feeling so depressed that I have thoughts of wanting to die, I feel so overwhelmingly anxious and stressed and panicky and angry and can’t see how it’ll get better and THAT makes me wish I could make it be over by flipping a switch. It’s like a different flavor of the same problem. Same dance, different song. And of course missing work doesn’t help the anxiety because I already feel like I’m not doing well there and am being treated accordingly, so then I’m so anxious I can’t work and go home and then feel more anxious because that certainly isn’t helping matters. I’m still a goldfish in a bag that some bratty little kid is shaking. In all the time I’ve been sick I’ve never felt so little control of my own body and behavior and it’s so scary and makes me feel so alone in it and certain people in my life don’t help matters by treating me like because I’m bipolar, none of my thoughts and feelings are have legitimacy or value: I’m not pissed because someone’s being shitty, I’m pissed because I’m a bit “crazy” right now. Actually no, I am still capable of having normal reactions and recognizing when something is bullshit. I’m medicated, not lobotomized. FFS. Bottom line is, when I’m upset or in a rage, don’t tell me to just go take a nap. I’m not a toddler having a tantrum.

It’s so hard to describe if you’re not in it, and it makes me feel so alone because how can you comfort someone if you don’t understand what’s the matter and I don’t even know what to ask for. So I sit at home and take my benzos with wine and try to chill the fuck out and it works for like ten minutes at a time. That’s all I’ve got at the moment – ten minutes at a time. I guess I can do that for a while until things get better. They have to get better.

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