Mondays are my days to crash and burn. It is the day that I allow myself to do nothing. I don’t require that I take a shower, step outside, do errands, etc. It’s the day I allow myself to wallow in self pity. Even stay in bed, if I like. Maurice and I are very active at our church, so a large chunk of our Sundays we are busy during coffee hour interacting with a large number of people. We love it, but it takes a toll on me. I end up exhausted on Monday and usually a little depressed as well. Oh Woe Is Me.
This week was different. To start, someone at church on Sunday asked if there was something special or new going on in my life. When I told him “no,” he continued by telling me that I “seemed especially vibrant. Very Happy.” This was news to me, but when I thought about it I realized he was right. I felt on top of my game. I walked around and interacted with people, but it seemed normal. I smiled more, I laughed more. I had a good time. His comment really made my day.
On Monday, I was a little bit tired and a little bit down, but nothing compared to the way I usually feel. I was feeling down enough that I was gluttonous, but I didn’t set up a chair in front of the refrigerator with a knife and a fork in hand. In all honesty I have never actually done that, but I sure wanted to many, many times.
I was not thrilled when my pdoc adjusted my meds last month. He adjusted them because I was too manic, which did not make me happy. Despite all the dangerous risky behavior, such as over-shopping and promiscuous sex, it usually feels good to be on that manic high. The med adjustment was bringing me down too much. I felt sluggish, sometimes to the point that it felt I was trying to walk through wet, waist high cement.
I get very irritated when people with mental illness tell me they stopped taking their new meds because they didn’t like the way they felt, that it even made them feel sick. When it comes to psych meds you can’t just wait a few days, or a week or two, or even a month for them to kick in. It is not uncommon for it to take over a month before the positive effects begin. Here I was being hypocritical. I wasn’t following my own advice. Sure there was one drug that I took that made me enraged. I even attacked Maurice. We worked through it over the weekend, and when I called my pdoc on Monday she said to get off of it immediately. But it was an extremely rare response. Here I was taking a very common psych med. A med that helps thousands, probably hundreds of thousands live better lives, but it didn’t work for me. There is no one drug that works for everyone. Doctors aren’t sure why, but some drugs work best for some, while other drugs work better with other people. You must keep taking them and give them a chance before discounting them.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with my pdoc. Sadly, I’m going to have to be honest. I have to tell him that the adjustment to my meds seems like it really has worked. I’d rather tell him that they didn’t work. Why? Because there’s that part of my brain that tells me that I don’t want to just feel good, I want to feel manic. I want to enjoy that crazy feeling that I had last month.
Yes, yes, I will tell him. I will tell him that it seems like the med change has made me feel better. I will be honest, but I don’t have to like it.