I started medication for Bipolar Disorder four weeks ago. I didn't notice much of a difference at first, but other people did. I was withdrawn, quiet, glazed over look in my eyes, and generally kept to myself. This wasn't entirely unusual, but it was more extreme than normal and was making people uneasy (I didn't know that at the time). It made me incredibly sad to know that people were in essence, afraid of me. People were walking on eggshells around me. They didn't know when or if I was going to unleash on them. What they didn't know is that I didn't even see them. It was like they didn't exist. They were just a faceless blob of no consequence to me.
I noticed changes in my behavior after about two weeks, just before I doubled the dosage. I wasn't seeing people. I would see a person, but there was no recognition of their relative importance. I was indifferent to everyone I saw. It was as though my brain did a quick risk analysis and determined there was no threat. Once it was determined there was no threat my brain told me to ignore the person. It's worth noting that I refer to "my brain" as though it's a separate entity from Cyle the person. I feel like I am the vessel my brain controls, not the other way around. It's not like I am out of control, it's that my brain is in complete control of everything I do. It's simply processing information and telling me what to say or do. I don't have control over it anymore. I say something if it tells me to say something. I stay silent if it tells me there is nothing to say. I no longer feel like I have free will to correct my own brain. I have become somewhat robotic in my behavior.
People and places are now put into specific boxes by my brain. Work has its own box. The gym has its own box. Home has its own box. Costco has its own box. Every place, set of tasks, and people have their own boxes. My brain has become more utilitarian than it was before. It discards people as soon as they are no long useful to it. When a conversation ends, it is the end of that person. I don't give them a second thought. These boxes used to overlap, but that has changed in recent weeks. Each box is exclusive and independent of each other. They don't cross pollinate. This is a very foreign feeling to me. On one hand, I like the level of focus it gives me. My mind doesn't wander. I can't get distracted even if I try. On the other hand, I hate the fact that I have to be mindful of the changes. I have to acknowledge people and that they have feelings. I have to do socially acceptable things. I have to conduct myself in a way that is viewed as normal behavior.
One of the challenges I am experiencing is that disorder throws me into a fit. Seeing or finding things where they don't belong just triggers something that my brain disapproves of. It's OCD on steroids. Things must happen in sequence or chaos ensues. Left sock, right sock. Right pant leg, left pant leg (has to be the opposite of the socks for sake of efficiency). Left shoe, right shoe. I have to start over if any of the foregoing occurs out of sequence. Light switch three times and it has to end in a way that is intended to be off. Lights controlled by multiple switches are a nightmare. Things must be in their proper place or all hell breaks loose. Again, this isn't entirely new, it's just more pronounced than before. I used to just put things back where they belong and ask people to do the same. Now I tell them exactly where shit goes and berate them when it doesn't get there even before they have a chance to put it there. My brain tells me "later" isn't good enough. It has to happen now. My brain can't tolerate disorder where there clearly should be order.
What I thought were mood swings on a particular day are really episodes. I go through episodes of high and low that have become more pronounced in the last six months. The medication is currently holding somewhere between low and middle of the road, but closer to low than anywhere else. I am subdued and docile. I am measured in my tone and my actions. I am less animated. I am not balanced. On the off hand that I have a bit of a high, the feeling is fleeting. It might last a couple hours after which I am exhausted. It sucks a lot of energy out of me. The lows are easy to fuel because my sole focus is survival. I am optimistic this will change next week when I up the dosage to 100mg from 50mg. I am not sure I will like the person I become, but it's hard to imagine it being worse than I am.
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