Thursday, July 17, 2008

Scrambled Brains For Breakfast, Anyone?

This is one of them many things about bipolar disorder that I really, really hate. You're going along thinking you're doing just fine, and then, like a good little patient, you keep your scheduled appointment with your shrink. Not all bipolar patients are as compliant as I, but than most bipolar patients don't live this long. So, there I am bringing her up to date on my situation, and it turns out that the old school anti-depressant I've been doing so very well on is implicated in "cardiac events." It's also implicated in fat, but aren't most of them? Anyway, now I'm doing the Alice in Wonderland bit, where she takes a bite of this, and it makes her really fat, and she take a bite of that, and it makes her disappear. Did you even notice that I disappeared yesterday? Thanks Randal and Beach, at least now I know who my real friends are.

So now my brains are so scrambled I can't read, write, or stay awake long enough to do much of anything. Just as I was going down for the count today, shortly after waking up, I had the foresight to call the one friend I thought might call, and tell her I was taking a "nap," so if she had anything to say to me, say it quick, and then don't wake me up with a phone call, please. I thought of calling my other friend--yeah, I am that popular--but got too sleepy to pull it off. And who doesn't like a good nap, anyway. Well, three or six hours into mine, the phone goes off like a bomb, right next to my head. I come out of my sleep and croak, softly, so as not to hurt myself, "Hello???" When what I really wanted to do was scream, "Who the fuck is this!!!" Well, of course it was my other friend, the one I didn't call to tell I was taking a nap. "She says, "You sound strange, are you alright?" To which I answer, "I'm taking a nap, you woke me up." The second half of that was perfectly obvious, but somehow needed to be said. Then she said, "Well, I'm worried about you, you don't sound like yourself." I just should have said, "I'm not myself. You have the wrong number," but she'd have never fallen for that one. So I said, "I'm not exactly myself, I'm seesawing between two competing drugs, and my brains are scrambled." To which she replied, "Well, you missed Olbermann." The TV was on and sure enough, there was Dan Abrams talking to that annoying twit, Contessa Brewer. Then my friend said, something that sounded like bla, bla, bla. It was all very well intentioned and for my own good I'm sure, but god, how I wanted to sleep on and on into the night. Fortunately, Olbermann gets a second hour following Dan, so the day wasn't wasted after all, but my nap sure was.

If you're thinking I sound like I'm slipping into depression, this is what it feels like, but it probably won't last very long. In the early days of real antidepressant therapy, they just slammed you on a full dose and that was that. Now they treat us like the delicate flowers that we must be, and ease us off one drug as they ease us on another. Me, I prefer the old way. Get it over with quick. But I'm a good little patient, and I follow my doctors instructions.

In the meantime, you will not know who you're going to get, Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. Good luck, it's bound to be a bumpy ride.

27 comments:

Je ne regrette rien said...

wow, I'm not sure which would be worse ... the drug reaction or the depression ... I'm sure you do and that is the reason for the drugs. hang in there. Wish I had some magically uplifting homily for you. Maybe you should get to writing, I know when my brain is on the downhill slide of the rollercoaster between my ears, writing is a great distraction.

Utah Savage said...

Yeah, if you can actually think. It is these little set backs that makes writing impossible--I'm afraid to fuck up a perfectly good start on a story. So for the time being, I'll be napping. Have I told you lately that I love you?

BTW, we have ten stories so far in our little collection of Dangerous Women. Not bad, eh?

Je ne regrette rien said...

I am loving the DW experience! and even if you can't "write" per sé, jot down the bits and bobs of your ideas so you don't lose them. I always tend to find my ideas get lost in the blender outcome of my internal ramblings when I am depressed. so I jot for the future.

Je ne regrette rien said...

aww, plus one can never have too much love. typically, I find I have way too little. thanks U.S.

dguzman said...

oy vey. Well, be a good little patient and do what they tell you. I hope it will all work out. At least that's what my doctor tells me....

Blueberry said...

The phone always rings during a nap. I turn mine off beforehand... then someone will ring the doorbell.

Je ne regrette rien said...

just a check in note say I hope you are feeling better today ...

Randal Graves said...

Boy, utah, did you fuck up. The key is to interact with no one in the real world. That way, no one calls. It's bliss. Until my kids wake up, the little shits.

Ten brutal murders of men? Congratulations. No, really. Now you all do plan on letting us XY types see them, right?

JNRR is right, toss every bit down, complete sentence or not. I'm always plucking my incoherent notes for junk.

DivaJood said...

This is better living through chemistry at its literary finest. I mean that in the best possible, loving way, Utah. Because it is quite eloquently written.

As for not commenting yesterday, I actually was tied up. No, not like that.

Utah Savage said...

Randal, don't make me slap you. I have never seen anything but the classiest mishmash of this and that tossed into the elegant hopper that is your groovy whizbang a little of this and that and where do you get those pictures? I sometimes hate you for you skills. I covet your skills. And we all know that's a sin. Bastard!

Diva, be happy for being tied up. It's probably making you money.

Ingrid said...

Good luck going through this and we'll see you on the other side. I'm sure blogging keeps you sane because how frustrating is it to go through this by yourself? I've done a bit of that myself with antidepressent meds..at least you sound like you know it's only temporary so glad to 'hear' that. Hope you can nap right through it too! Scrambled brains..haha.. man ain't that the truth? If you're a wee bit like me, somewhere inside you're saying, damn, I'm really intelligent you know, it just doesn't show right now!!
btw..love the look of your blog, I thought I had visited it before but I must've been confused and just recognized you from Enigma's site I'm sure. Speaking of the brain..what's my excuse??

hugs

Ingrid

DivaJood said...

Utah, I have about three more paychecks coming, then I am without regular income - going independant as a travel agent, commission only. Scared to death, but exhilirated as well.

Utah Savage said...

don't think I'm ignoring you guys, it just that the nappy thing (no offense to anyone) is about to overcome me. I'll be back. Sounds a little threatening doesn't it?

DivaJood said...

nappy thing:

a) referring to hair
b) referring to things babies wear
c) referring to what Utah needs to do, aka having a lie-down.

No swamp coolers have been killed or injured with this message.

Anita said...

Utah, I sent you something I found today about bi-polar disorder. I think you will find it very interesting and, perhaps even, comforting and less alone. Check your e-mail. Anita

Omnipotent Poobah said...

I must have an old school doc. When he changes my anti-depressants, he just slams from one to another.

He says, "Don't worry about all that step up, step down crap. It doesn't make that much of a difference and while you're in between the two you're miserable. Am I right?"

I dunno, do I need a new doc?

Utah Savage said...

poobah, I like the old school method better, but because of the fibrillation I went through lately, I've got three docs keeping a close watch--so I'm trying to do it the way they want me to.

Utah Savage said...

Anita, got it, thanks. I've never felt alone with my craziness. This is probably the most under-diagnosed illness there is. I was included in a documentary on the illness. Noncompliance is the big problem for most of us. We mostly hate our meds and love the mania.

Anita said...

yeah, that's what they were saying in the interviews, the people who had their symptoms under control with medication, that they MISSED THE MANIA.

i can relate. i'm not "diagnosed" as such ... perhaps i am 'petit bi-polar' i don't know.

Utah Savage said...

Ingrid, the new look of my blog is not my doing. It is the wizardry and lovely esthetic of my Administrator. He keeps working to make me look better, and I go wacky on him. Now I can't live up to the site he's created for me. But I do plan to turn you on to some other wonderful places and posts that need a bigger audience. I'm talking to the choir here--most of us read each other, but Franiam led me to a site called Under the Overpass. Tomorrow I'll share another view of what it's like to be crazy in America. And speaking of crazy, how about that Bush Administration? Have you guys read the latest at Unconventional Conventionist?

Utah Savage said...

Petite bipolar sounds so lovely. One good thing about this bit of "transition" is I have neither much appetite or any desire or ability to cook. So, I might lose half a pound.

BBC said...
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BBC said...
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D.K. Raed said...

UT, my bro is an undiagnosed bi-p. It did not manifest until he was in his 40's. He refuses treatment & he self-medicates (whatever that means). This has been going on for over 10-yrs. It has rendered him homeless, jobless, friendless & (for some odd reason) a rabid republican who will non-stop argue the most insane political positions. Maybe you have some suggestions what a sister can do for a bro like this.

I am so glad you are aware of what needs to be done & are working with your doctors to get you where you need to be. That you express your symptoms & feelings so well has GOT to help with fine tuning the meds, right?

E said...

I'm thinking about you, Utah!

Randal Graves said...

Swamp Cooler would be a great name for a rock band.

I find the pictures on the tubes which, surprisingly, doesn't consist of 100% porn. It's not like I actually do work at work, that's pretty obvious.

When you find something and save it, uploading it is pretty easy using the little picture tab. The problem with blogger is it doesn't set shit the way you want a lot of the time, so you have to use the return button to get text underneath. Try it a few times and use the Preview option. You'll get the hang of it in no time, trust me.

You say sin like it's a bad thing.

E said...

I'm thinking about you, Utah!