Manda Propaganda

When it comes to being a good human being, I am basically teh suck at it.

What the hell is wrong with me right now? I used to be a fun person! Now I am a big ball of anger and misery and angst and self pity.

I’m about to go on Facebook and set one of those annoying “pay attention to me” kind of status updates… yes, I really am that pathetic right now, and really need to hear something nice… even if its just out of friendly obligation. I’ll take what I can get right now.

The situation is so dire, that this is probably the first time that Katie has been away interstate with work, and I actually wish she wasn’t! The house is mighty empty with just me and my sadness to fill it :(

Update: Geez, my friends have odd interpretations of “nice”.

I had an appointment with my GP at 2pm. Well, not MY GP, but this other clown at the medical centre because my GP wasnt available.

I spent 10 minutes explaining exactly what needed to be done, talking a million miles and hour then breaking down in tears. I explained it thusly:

“The thing is, I’ve been sad my whole life, and they made me go and see counsellors but my problems arent the problem, cause like my problems arent so bad, but my reaction to them is disproportionate and inappropriate. I was diagnosed with depression when I was a teenager and they put me on Zoloft but thats an SSRI and the reason that didnt work is because I dont have depression, I was just diagnosed with a bipolar disorder which makes more sense because while I dont think I would really hurt myself, I get reckless when I’m manic and I wrote my car off last year when I was manic and it was raining, I think I am invincible sometimes and thats when I am a danger to myself, but yeah so while an SSRI might prevent the lows, they dont stabilise me at all, because I still get the manic phases which I kind of enjoy but really arent good for me. Last time I was here they wanted to put me on Lexapro but I cant take Lexapro because its just another SSRI which we already know wont help. And Dr Kayta suggested looking into Lithium but I dont want to take Lithium either because I have PCOS and take Metformin, and you cant combine those, besides Lithium has been linked to birth defects and my sister lost 2 babies with genetic abnormalities and I refuse to make my own odds of that happening greater than they already are. So I did some research and I think a mood stabiliser like Tegretol would be the best option since it doesnt have any interaction warnings with what I’m already on, there are minimal side effects and has been used successfully to treat bipolar patients off-label despite being designed as an anti-seizure medication for epileptics. OK? Can we do that please? I really dont want to feel like this anymore.”

He blinked at me slowly and said I really need to go and see a psychiatrist. He asked why I hadnt gone to see the one I was referred to back in March and I told him that there was a 6-8 week wait for an appointment and I felt better and then lost interest. He said this was not a good health management strategy, and said he would call them himself, arrange an urgent appointment and call me tomorrow with the details.

I stopped crying long enough to ask if I can have something to help me sleep. He pulled out a post-it note and wrote “Valerian Forte - chemist”. This was my cue to blink slowly at him. “Are you being serious?” I asked. He smiled, “It really works for me when I cant sleep!”

Fuck you doc.

Some days I cant keep it together. Some days I have a little cry at my desk, silently of course… a flurry of tissues wiping tears from reddened eyes. But they all see it.

Never once has someone come to me, or even sent an email from across the room saying “hey, are you OK?”.

In retrospect they would all wonder if there was anything they could have done… any one of them could have done something, but every one of them chose not to.

Yesterday was a bad day. Not a bad day in the sense that I slept in, missed my bus or got in trouble up at work, because none of those things happened.

I woke up at my usual time, got ready for work without incident, caught the same bus as always, bought my regular coffee, fired up my office computer and set about doing my work, ate breakfast and made tea at the usual time, had lunch and read the news like I always do, got a heap of work done, packed up and went home, watched TV, ate dinner and went to bed.

It was the same typical day I’ve been living on repeat for over a year now, but there was something missing, and I felt its absense so keenly that the entire day I wished for an unexpected fatal brain hemorrhage, a freak bolt of lightning, or a drunk driver to lose control while I crossed the road.

Yesterday, I felt so lost and so empty. I smiled and laughed and made chit chat with those around me, but my head was full of dark thoughts and loud demons.

I have trouble coping when faced with big changes (and small changes too for that matter), and rely heavily on my support network. The trouble though, is that when I am in need of them most, I am least inclined to ask for help, because frankly, I dont want them. I dont want to burden them with my existance, or bore them with my troubles.

My 3 best friends are amazing people, but our lives have all changed in the last 6 months, and we dont have as much time for each other as we used to. We certainly dont have the opportunity or inclination to check up on each other on a daily basis, so any changes in mood or temperament are likely to go unnoticed.

My illness is difficult enough to manage as it is because I tend towards a rapid cycle (though I challenge anyone who really knows me to disagree with the ultra-ultra-rapid cycling description) so while I may be in a comfortably neutral phase when I leave the house and again when I arrive home, the few hours in between can see me both struggling to sit still at work as I literally hum with manic energy, and staring into space, fighting the urge to cry at my desk.

The long weekend was OK I guess. I was occupied with family obligations, True Blood marathons and having my flatmate back in the country, and the first day back after the long weekend should have meant a simple return to my regular schedule. While from an observers standpoint there was nothing different about yesterday, my email inbox remained devoid of the companionship I usually enjoy.

Not only have I lost a person I feel a particularly strong affection for (which in itself is reason enough to feel blue), but I have lost the single most important member of my support network. I have lost the one person who acted as a daily barometer of my moods and helped keep me on an even keel. The one person who would have noticed that I was on a ledge, and helped talk me down.

I dont mean to minimise the importance of everyone else in my life, but he wasn’t a mere acquaintence or casual observer. He understood me. He got me. He was my life jacket, keeping me afloat. This is sounding a lot more melodramatic than I intended, but the significance of this event should not be underestimated. He said he couldn’t provide the emotional support I required… but as it turns out, he already did. He gave me everything I needed and more. Now he is gone and I am already drowning.

Last night I did some research online and have made a big decision. As much as I wanted to avoid it, I feel I have no choice anymore. I think I need to be medicated.