“Did you take your meds?”

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   img_0030Sometimes as I have my coffee I start to ponder random thoughts and immediately hear the statement  “did you take you meds” in my head. A statement, I’ve come to strongly dislike but accept.  It’s one thing to battle my bipolar disorder as silently as possible but every day I hear that statement. I say something overly funny, “did you take your meds?” I say something brilliant, “did you take your meds?” I make a statement about my feelings, “did you take your med?” I decided I’m going to buy a zoo…..”did you take your meds?” Yes…yes…YES….well probably forgot not buying the zoo. But I hate people asking me when I’m not up or down. It’s like even in a normal state I can’t be normal. I know I have to take meds for the rest of my life.

Over the last year, it’s been a struggle to find a perfect cocktail, but without hesitation I take whatever they give me now to make everyone happy around me. I’m not “play with my shit nuts” off meds, I’m just extreme one direction or the other. My extreme up can be very self destructive, self gratifying, hyposexual, and I have super powers. Yes, super powers! I don’t have to sleep anymore, I can do what takes a normal human a week in a day. I can sing and I’ll probably tell you about that marathon I never ran or my mountain ski trip I never took. People love me, people want to do stuff with me because I’m fun and outgoing. I can shop like no other and give very charitably.  During my extremes I loose touch with reality. I am an over exaggeration of myself.

Now the dark side “the down”. So it’s true, what goes up must come down. And it happens for me like a switch. No one likes to talk about suicide or suicidal thoughts. Heck, I don’t even like saying it out loud to my doctor. I’ll just ignore or nod when she ask if I’ve been suicidal. So the “down” usually happens and feels like I’ve got the flu so I nap and become very introverted. I am sick, sick of my weight caused by meds, sick of being self destructive, embarrassed. Embarrassed is an understandment. I have to answer for all my actions that happened during my extremes and mania. I have to hear the stories, be the punchline of the joke, “and then it was awesome, she did (insert funny destruction)…..” Then look my children and husband in the face at the hurt and disappointed. I’m convinced the world hates me. I have no one, no friends. I convince myself I am only hurting those around me. That’s when that dark monster within convinces me everyone would be better off without me in this world. It’s selfish, but when you are down it’s actually pretty selfless. Your mind convinces you you’re saving everyone from the pain. It’s dark and I don’t want to really even talk about the bottom, but there is a bottom and it’s has a trap door called suicide. 

So did I take my meds today, yes! Is it always effective, no! Is it worth it, yes. I like my normal self. I realize I have purpose. I remember I’m a great balance between my extremes. The friends who were there during my extremes are usually the first to leave your side. I mean, I’m not super crazy fun and buying them stuff, footing the bill to be loved. I don’t need those people and in the end those are usually the trigger.

I have probably a couple of the greatest friends in the world. I may not see them for years at a time but they are the ones to call and talk to me after or before doctor appointment. They are the ones who ask, “did you take you meds?” That’s when it really clicks, they are not asking to remind me I’m crazy but because they like the normal me. 

Yes, I took my meds today. 

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About Musings of a mad woman

“Mental labels don’t define who I am, time and aging only gets me closer to those I love, will love, and have loved” ~ S.L. Cato I’ve battle Bipolar disorder for at least 15+ years, toss in a couple more labels I’ve collected such as generalized anxiety disorder PTSD. This battle is pretty amazing and out of this world and at times a dark rollercoaster ride. The medication, the manic episodes, and mania can be pretty humorous. The hypersexuality, drugs, anxiety, depression, ghosts, and parenting. I’ve certainly felt the sting of the “crazy” stigma, but I’m here today. Bipolar is my superpower. I hope by sharing my musings it helps others understand the labels situation whispered behind closed doors. Please feel free to share my stories, rantings and musings. Read more about me in my post "Who is the Mad Woman"

11 responses »

  1. I’d love to write something related to this. You’ve given me an idea. The box you can becone trapped in with meds – rather than people accepting you for the quirky lovable person that you are, its “have you taken your meds”? I used to get that a lot!

    Lovely descriptive post. One I can really relate to

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This post didn’t really ping to me, at least, not until you started speaking about how you thought about committing suicide as a selfless way to take away the burden from those you care about. I’m not gonna lie here, I kinda wonder the same from time to time, but never in a way that could convince me enough to go through with it, and probably never will. But those thoughts are probably going to come again in the future for me, I won’t commit it, but I do grow concerned what would truly break the camel’s back. I hope in the future I would have my own friends and look them as you do with yours.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: “Did you take your meds?” – A Glimpse Inside of a Troubled Mind

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