Laughter

I am now totally off my evening medication and, to my surprise, I feel a little lost as well as immensely relieved. I have lost the evening ritual that has punctuated my life for the past two-and-a-half years.

I did not expect to feel this AT ALL and yet, when I put the leftover boxes of medication away, I felt a little sad - as if I were saying goodbye to a good friend.

I suppose that my evening tablet (Mirtazapine) has been a good friend. It has:

I have had an interesting few days - weeks actually. Ever since I came to the realisation that I had probably arrived at the point in my recovery when I needed to change my medication, I have been on a nerve-racking little journey and I am watching myself like a hawk ....

There are many days when the frustration I feel about my unreliable level of energy spills into my dreams - more specifically my morning 'vivid' dream (see my description of them in Medication: Friend or Foe?).

I don't like depending on pills - nobody does. Having said that, ever since I was prescribed the cocktail of drugs I am currently on, I have been resolutely diligent in following my prescription, that is until two days ago.

The evening medication I take has always been 'heavy' for me. From the beginning, side effects have included:

Good grief! I can hardly stand it. Today, I was so low on energy that I stressed all day because I knew I needed to go to the bank that is located twenty-five minute walk from where I live. In the end, I had to borrow some change for the parking meter in town because I had to drive myself.

Today is my birthday and I could not resist sharing with you, my lovely readers, the birthday card my son Greg sent me. You might remember that Greg draws all the wonderful little cartoons you see on this website. In fact, Bi-Polar Girl is his project as much as mine and he has referred to it as the product of our unique personal alchemy :D

Ah...  that troublesome word :'mood'.... What is it exactly?....

I have discovered this during my long illness: I like my own company. I like being with me. I am OK to be with. 

This may seem obvious to some - overstated to others - but to me it is still a source of joyous surprise.

I have reached an interesting point in my recovery. I say 'interesting' but I am not being totally honest: I should really say 'scary'. It is scary because I have been there before AND because I have never been there before.

If I sit still and quiet for any length of time, straight away my head feels like it is stretching outwards like an inflating balloon. This is fascinating to me even if it is a little odd.

When I first experienced this, it was a strange feeling. Nowadays I enjoy it. I get a sense of 'super awareness', as if my senses were suddenly sharper.