I had my third session with a specialist yesterday morning. I let him know how upset I was when we devised an emergency action plan at the end of our last call. He asked why and all I could say is that it finally hit me that I am not well. My life has devolved into having an emergency action plan. I have had several moments like this. When things finally felt real. I think the last straw was devising a plan for when I go from okay to not okay.
It hurts to know I am not well. It hurts when people joke about which version of me will show up. It hurts when people are dismissive of being depressed when they get sad over their team losing a game or some similar bullshit. It hurts when people joke about me getting hung up on details. It hurts to know that I may never be able to live without medication. It hurts that Ming wants to defend me when people talk about me, but she can't. She doesn't want to share my illness with people. It's none of their business, but it would certainly explain a lot. What hurts the most is that people are relieved when I walk in the room, but worried when I leave. They don't know if that is the last time they will see me. I never wanted to be a burden on anyone because of my illness. They suffer with me and I never wanted that to happen.
Sometimes I wish I could just fight this on my own. People are afraid of me because they don't know what is happening. They fear the wrath of Cyle, which makes me sad. I know deep down that I am a kind, giving, and gentle man. I care about people. I want to improve their lives in any way I can.
The specialist told me I have bipolar disorder with low grade mania and clinical depression. I get to take more drugs for the depression. However, those drugs cost $900/month with insurance. I would rather suffer than pay $900/month for the foreseeable future. I don't know how people pay for mental health care in this country. Who has $900 a month for a prescription for crazy people? The drug treats schizophrenia and clinical depression. It hurts to know I am lumped into that category.
I am supposed to get blood work and an MRI for my scrambled brain. I may end up on more drugs after that. I'll be a walking medicine cabinet soon. I am trying to reframe my thinking about all of this. I'm not crazy. I didn't do this to myself. This is not my fault. I know these things are true, but it doesn't matter. I still feel like a pill popping junkie. I feel like I am no longer in control of my own life. Drugs tell me how to function. Drugs tell me what to do and say. Without drugs, I am nothing. Without drugs I can't function in society. Without drugs, I will not survive. I am now that guy who has to pack his drugs in my carry on luggage. I can't be without my drugs. I can't travel alone without a note that I may be experiencing an episode. Please call Ming so she can talk me down. Please don't hurt or startle me because I may be hearing voices. I am all the clichés we see in movies. I am a walking liability.
Every time a doctor or specialist asks me if I have ever thought about suicide, I tell them no. That is a lie. I haven't though about doing it, but I have thought about how I would do it if I wanted to. What would be the quickest way? What would be the least painful? What would be 100% certain success (or failure, depending on how you look at it)? How many different ways are there to do it? I have visualized what it would look like to hang from a ceiling fan (this is really disturbing, I know). I think these things every time I am asked the question. I told the specialist this. I also told him I know he has to ask, but it disturbs me every time. It hurts to think that every time I leave a conversation, that is what people think. They wonder if it will be the last time they see me or talk to me. It hurts me to know that. I can't bear the thought, but how many ways are there to not be seen again?
I am disagreeable when I am depressed. The difference between pre-medicated Cyle and medicated Cyle is that now I tell people I am disagreeable. I don't just disagree or generally act disagreeable. I tell people I am. Kind of like a beware of dog sign for humans. Don't poke the bear. I hate this about myself. I hate that I feel like I need to tell people I am disagreeable. I guess it prepares them for which version of Cyle they are dealing with.
On day six of this episode and I feel like I am slowly emerging on the other side. I still feel like I will break down and cry at the drop of a hat, but at least I can communicate with people. I still feel subdued, but I can communicate. I can talk.
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