Meds. I have been med changing and balancing since August of last year after I had been stable for quite a while. In my first ten or so years, yes TEN, I was constantly changing meds because my bipolar was so hard to treat at the time. My husband was very frustrated during this time and we fought a lot. I felt I was doing my best and he felt I was just asking for meds and wasting my time – taking anything I wanted. He doubted my diagnosis several times and made it clear that he thought so.
When I finally got to a doctor in 2014 after yet another hospital stay, the doctor was able to figure out the magic combination of meds that worked. I stopped going from mixed mania to depression and making everyone’s life hell to a different, “normal” (for the most part, I am to eclectic to be normal, ha ha) person who painted again, took photos, even held down a part time job for three years. But, it lasted three years and I became depressed and stressed out again. I had to quit my job on the advisement of my psychiatrist and in the summer, the switch flipped and I was manic. Both of these episodes required yet again, trial and error meds. My husband started to get ruffled.
I was feeling so awful and cried about wanting to die yesterday that I finally did call my psychiatrist. At first, the receptionist; who is wonderful there – spoke to him on my behalf and my doctor told me to go ahead and wait a month and see how I feel. I cried at the receptionist and told her fine, I was eventually going to die then. I couldn’t take this for a month. Plus, I start school in a week and a half. He got me in for his last appt at eight p.m.
My psychiatrist – guess what? Yes, he made a few med changes. Not big ones but small things. He bumped back up my Trintellix by the next available 5mg dose and started me on Wellbutrin XL. I expressed my concerns and dislike of Trintellix and being on two antidepressants at one time. He said after I felt better he would take away the Trintellix. I said ok because I was so desperate to get out of the black hole. He also agreed to let me take two Ativan at bedtime instead of one. That was it. Only those changes were made. So, we are swapping antidepressants and Ativan dose changed. No big deal.
When I got home and told my husband what the doctor said, all he sarcastically said was, “MORE med changes..AGAIN” and went on to get ready for bed. I told him they were small and basically switching one AD for another. He huffed and said “Ok. Whatever you have to do.” He was obviously not happy and had an attitude. Why can’t he just support me and what I need? I didn’t ask for these mood changes and I didn’t ask for bipolar.
My husband has not been real supportive all along. Although he will stick his chest out and boast about how he had been there and stuck it out during every hospitalization – how he took care of the kids because I wasn’t there. Guess what? That’s what you are supposed to do!!! Even now, he doesn’t want to have conversations about my bipolar and how it effects me. He says he doesn’t want to talk about it and if we do, it makes our lives revolve around bipolar. I don’t really want to get into this any further because it just upsets me.
Anyway, yes; there were med changes. I only hope it works. I’m very tired today and just want to sleep but I think it’s from crying last night. Honestly, I hate all the meds I take. They are a daily reminder of my “mental illness.” I would love to quit taking everything and dump the bottles in my driveway. Then run them over until they are crushed into dust.