The First Day of the
Rest of My Life
for the
Next Two Weeks

Jinnah, take the large jumps that you know you can do, and don't look down. Because if you do, you'll fall. But don't be stupid either - do all the safe things.

6 September 1999 – Diary
After a quiet weekend, I went out to work. The first thing I noticed was that the Epilim (Depakote) which worked relatively quietly in the background all last week suddenly decided to make me very nauseous. So instead of a slight sensation that I would throw up, I had headaches, dizziness, and the sensation that I would throw up was really strong.

None of this made it easy to concentrate on work, and in fact I did not do very much. But that's okay. I feel as if I had major surgery and I'm back out to work for the first day.

More eerie is the sensation that I don't know what to do next. I have been so out of it that I cannot remember what my daily schedule in or out of work was like.

At home, this means that I don't remember all my morning schedule or the order I did it. Did I water the plants in the morning or the afternoon? I actually have to think of an answer. My body has forgotten what to do.

Same thing on afternoons. It feels odd to come home from work after not having done it for a while. I forgot to pass for the groceries I needed. What did I do between reaching home and going swimming? I don't even feel like going swimming.

I can see that it is going to take a few days to get back in stride. Or a few weeks.

7 September 1999 – Diary
Today as confusing as yesterday. My head feels fine - I don't have the sensation of depression. And my basic ability to get things done aren't hampered or slow the way things are with depression.

But in the big picture, I am still acting as if I am depressed.

I don't know what is the cause. I can think of one or two reasons though. Perhaps I am still a bit depressed, and it is showing subtly. Or perhaps I am still shell shocked - the last two months have been very bad and the last three weeks have been devastating. Or perhaps the phase shift is continuing apace and my old daily life is becoming something I know as a faded memory in the past.

Or perhaps it is a mixture of all of the above. I do know it is interfering with my returning to a real life.

Perhaps it is because I do not want to return to that real life. I think I am scared. Sort of like the little boy with a candle flame. In living day to day life, I've been burned rather badly just a short while ago, and I'm a little scared to touch the flame again.

Well, whatever the reason for my apparent listlessness, it is keeping me from moving on. When I think about it I find this quite annoying. But I don't want to leave my safe haven either.

Does anybody own a size 13 foot?

I am also annoyed that my family expects me to pick back up and go ahead as if nothing went wrong.

Now objectively, they have been filling in without comment and without carping about how I am doing badly. So it could just be a feeling on my part. But I getting the most unusual sensation that they don't know how to talk to me about my being depressed and they are therefore glossing over it.

It's irritating to me because I would like to share what has been happening to me. If for no other reason so I can justify my behaviour.

But at the same time, I find it extremely difficult to talk to them about my being depressed too. I'm not ashamed of it, but I just don't know how initiate the conversation. Where does one start? I don't even let them read this website, even though it is publicly available. If anyone has suggestions, please e-mail me. I could do with them.

8 September 1999 – Diary
Got up this morning at 4:00 am. What the heck is going on? But I feel good. Clear headed. Normal. But I'm still shell shocked and I figure it is going to take a while before my regular schedule kicks in. Nevertheless.

Got to work before 8:30 am, for the first time in, oh, six to eight weeks. And I ironed a shirt! I must be well if I can do something as complicated as find a clean shirt, find the iron, setup the ironing board, and iron a shirt (which has lots of complicated motor actions and requires patience).

I felt clear headed at work, but still wasn't up to a full day. Sneaked out at about 1:00 pm. But not guiltily. I'm still recovering and I deserve it.

The medications (600 mg Epilim / 600 mg Lithium) are doing weird things to me. I feel extremely nauseous, wanting to throw up all the time. And these terrible headaches. I'm hoping it will all pass in time.

I also think that one of them is making me sensitive to sunlight - my cheeks are red and itchy after about 40 minutes in the sun. Things to talk to my psych about.

Even though I am clear headed and functional, I'm feeling an undercurrent of a tendency to mania. The feeling is different from the one I get from Tegretol. I'm not manic - I'm mostly centered, but there is a sensation that if I wasn't on the medication I'd be manic.

There are just little occasional things that give it away - a tendency now and again to impatience and some twitching to stimuli. But these are more the feeling of observations. I don't get the sensation that I am manic or that the medication is not working.

But generally I'm glad how things are working out. If the Epilim stays as effective as it currently does and the nausea goes away, I'll be happy.

And I'll know that if things go wrong, I'll only take three weeks to destabilize (not including fixing my life). This may sound like a long time, but at least I'll know a time.

I'm also slowly realizing that I have been learning compassion. It is not something I would have expected, not even in my wildest dreams.

It has been a profound experience, and I am slowly beginning to understand what it means to love the people around me. Really love them.

And I am beginning to feel blessed. Don't get me wrong. I hate being bipolar, and I hate the things it has done in my life, and will do to my life. I used to think that nothing would be worth the horror of being bipolar. But the gift of compassion is a great gift indeed. And it is worth the price.

For the last few days, whenever I have been reflective, I have gotten the sensation that God is close by. At the moment I think He/She is close by and has shown me unambiguously that I have not been abandoned.

All I need to learn now is how to put compassion into action. And how to act such that God can be made manifest in my actions.

9 September 1999 – Diary
My schedule is still shot to hell, but hopefully getting there. I don't have much to say, but when I'm feeling well, what is there to say.

The Chinese have a curse - "May you live in interesting times." And us bps certainly have interesting lives. So I'm very happy to be boring at the moment.

I'm starting back exercise tomorrow (I'm always starting back exercise tomorrow). And I'm slowly slipping back into old routines. This is a danger. It was those routines that got me into trouble in the first place.

I'll have to watch myself from getting too comfortable simply because it is familiar. I have to change to a life that protects me more.

10 September 1999 – Diary
Today was full of little incidents, none of which I am to keen on.

I changed my method of taking medication slightly yesterday. Instead of taking Epilim (Depakote) 200 mg morning / 400 mg evening, I've shifted to 300 mg. / 300 mg. It's not a big shift but even that minor increase has left me groggy this morning. And nauseous. Just when I thought I had gotten past that with Epilim.

You just can't win. Or if you can, it takes an awfully long time. Patience isn't a virtue, it's a survival trait.

In addition, I just realized that I got either a rash or was sunburned on my cheeks over the last few days. Now, since I wasn't very much out in the sun, I am at a loss to understand this - unless of course I am photosensitive at my current dosage of Epilim (it was increased on 27 Aug 99). And I itch slightly.

So red cheeked and itching, I head off to the gym. There to find out that I weigh in at a new high of 165 lbs. I try rowing and the treadmill. I can't make thirty minutes. This is from someone who used to do 45 minutes of cardio work and then do weights.

The medication must be working because I should be seriously down about this sorry state of affairs, but I'm not.

What did I say before. Patience is a survival trait. Right. I'll just have to start back over. But I don't have to be happy about it.

And trust me. I am not happy about it.

And for the final insult. On Friday afternoon among the office staff. I decline a beer due to meds. Then I say to myself what the heck and take one. By the time I am halfway through it I am feeling as if I want to throw up. And the sensation remains with me for the next two very miserable hours.

A very nice way to round off the day, eh? Guess I won't be having alcohol again in a hurry. Has this happened to anyone else, or am I just being persecuted?

11 September 1999 – Diary
Today has been my first day that I have felt normal. Though normal here is defined by absences. Not hyper, not depressed. Not feeling any particular way, but not numb either. You know. Normal.

Well, maybe you don't know.

I am still nauseous though. I can't wait for my body to accept the new dosage regimen for Epilim. But this is going to take a few days. I still feel like throwing up, I still feel as if I have acid reflux, and I still am getting a headache. But I'm willing to tolerate it for a week or so again if it makes me normal.

It's just as well that I have time now. I have three pairs of clean underwear left. I have no clean work shirts. I have no clean dress shirts that can act as work shirts. I barely have clean shirts. I have one or two T-shirts that I can wear in public left in my cupboard. I have been wearing the same pair of jeans for three weeks now. I have no clean socks, so I've been wearing moccasins everywhere (okay, so I've worn dirty socks with shoes when I've gone to work, but everybody does that).

I've put out the garbage. Some sage advice. Never put a bp person in charge of putting out the garbage.

Luckily, this time around I haven't killed, or even maimed, any plants.

Even though it sounds as if I was working normally this week, I wasn't.

12 September 1999 – Diary
A quick note on the meds. I've been groggy all yesterday and all today. I've gotten decent amount of sleep on both days.

The only missing ingredient is coffee. I don't usually do coffee on weekends.

Apparently I'm still getting used to the Epilim. Either that or I'm going to have to use coffee as a counteragent for the Epilim on a regular basis. Epilim is a central nervous system (CNS) depressant. Has anybody had this problem?

I'm not complaining. If I can't drink alcohol, at least I get to drink all the coffee I want. I need at least one vice.