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I think I might be having symptoms of mania and its stressing me out!! I have been buying a lot of stuff in the last 2 weeks I have spent probably $2000, and just now i almost bought a fucking car of $20000 luckily I diden't have the deposit, but at that moment it just dawned on me I might be manic. I'm not sure I don't feel overly happy or sad I don't think I'm delusional. I don't think I'm having strange thoughts I don't know and my doctor is only back later this month
So I recently went off antipsychotics after having been on them for nearly seven years. They weren't helping with what I needed the most help with and I (and my shrink) suspected they were responsible for the anhedo'nic malaise I've been suffering from for years now. At first I was resistant to get off them because I really thought I needed them, but then I ran out and didn't get it refilled for a couple of weeks and was like, "Hey, I don't feel DEAD inside." And I wasn't suffering any bad effects from NOT taking them, so I figured I would just take them on as as-needed basis. Which happens about once every two weeks. I just get hamster wheel brain and have to shut it off.
And so far that's been working out really well. I'm curious how long it's taken for others who have gotten off them to get them out of your system. I haven't taken any Haldol in over a month, but it was just in the last few days that I really felt like I'd "woken up". I can write again. I haven't written anything other than cryptic Facebook posts since 2014. I've done nothing but read Facebook and the news and watch tv and movies since I quit my job four years ago, which I had to do because I couldn't function at it anymore. I was constantly forgetting things and fucking up, it was awful. Looking back I can't be sure if it's because of the illness or the meds. I don't really care anymore. I'm awake again.
Thankfully my bipolar disorder isn't so severe that I need APs all the time anymore. I think at first I did, but I've changed a lot over the last several years since I was diagnosed. I don't have the same issues as I once did. I'm a lot more stable. I still take my other meds, mostly so I can sleep, since I also have a sleep disorder (a manageable one, thank the gods). The meds kept me from doing the thing that was probably the healthiest thing I was doing for myself: meditating. Now that I can focus and concentrate again, I can get back to a sitting practice, which gives me the mindfulness I need to stay on top of the little cues my brain gives me when I might be about to do something...off.
It's nice not to be swimming in glue anymore.
It's been a little over two weeks since I broke up with him. Right now I'm still on a roller coaster of emotions, from happy to depressed to angry. Everyone I know is happy I split up with him, they don't understand how hard it's been for me. With the holidays everyone has been busy and I barely have anyone I can talk to about it. It just all around sucks.
I met him in May, when he moved into my building (lesson #1: don't date anyone in your apartment building). His reputation in town preceded him and I went out of my way to avoid him. I knew his sister and mother, whom are both schizophrenic, on meds and doing okay. I'd heard he had it too but that he refused treatment for it. So I knew that going in.
By the end of June, we were hanging out a lot. When you think of paranoid schizophrenia, he truly could be the poster child for it. I honestly had never seen untreated schizophrenia so it was completely new for me. He was full of delusions, paranoia and sometimes auditory hallucinations. But it wasn't that horrible and he turned out to be really nice, extremely funny and smart and a total cuddle bug. We had so much fun together.
I think in July, it became a relationship. It was mostly good. We rarely argued and when we did it was over stupid stuff and only lasted a few minutes. We were sleeping at each other's apartments, eating meals together, drinking together a lot (he's an alcoholic, I'm a binge drinker, I know, not good), taking day trips around the area, etc. It was just a lot of fun.
Over September, October and November, I could tell his schizophrenia was getting worse. I mean, he has sets of good and bad days, but it just seemed he was starting to experience more of the bad than he was when we were first together. He's convinced people (especially cops) are hiding out in the ceiling tiles, people are breaking into his place, people are in the hall when there is nobody there, that the police are plotting to put him in prison, the government is after him, that all the tenants have keys to his apartment and come in when he's gone, etc. When ever he gets zits on his back, he's convinced they are RF resistors that the gov't has implanted in him. That he has to get them out. He'd spend sometimes hours in front of the mirror, with a steak knife, digging into his back until he had basically bloody craters. The amount of scarring on his back, shoulders and upper arms shows how long that has been going on. He won't even take a tylenol for a headache, because he thinks the govt puts trackers in them, etc.
He also believes that mental illness doesn't exist. At all. And that there is nothing wrong with him. That everyone else is wrong and only he is right. There is nothing you can say to even crack any of what he believes. It just is.
He's had a lot of run ins with the police in places he's lived. The part that worries me the most though, is that he's also armed. He keeps a loaded hand gun in his apartment. The cops are aware he has it but they can't do anything about it.
So anyways, by December it was getting to be too much. He was getting distant, arrogant, angry, staying up sometimes for days at a time and our sex life was gone. Then, I realized I'd become part of the delusions. He started blaming me for being in his apartment when he wasn't there (I don't have a key, I never did have one), putting up cameras to spy on him. After accusing me multiple times, I finally had to walk away. I have so much of my own stuff to deal with anyhow. I realized how much more stress I was absorbing from him. I'd been walking on eggshells, not sure which version of him I was going to get on any given day.
Walking away was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Because of my BPD and how it used to really wreck my life (before CBT, DBT, meds, etc.), I spend over a decade alone, because I didn't want to mess anyone else up with my stuff. That was until I met him in May. So it was a really big deal for me to open up enough to let someone in. And he really helped me so much and I got really close to him. Then it was just... gone.
It hit me really hard a few days after I broke up with him and I OD'd and ended up in the hospital for almost a week. I've been home now for four days. I'm still trying to get my head straightened out after all this. I don't hate him, I know he's ill. I'm just really hurt and trying to sort through it all.
Sorry this is so long. I just needed to vent.
Any thoughts on using sam-e or a sad light with a bp1 diagnosis? I’m not depressed and stable but really struggling to get out of bed and low energy throughout the day.
A quick google search says Sam-e and using a sad light can trigger mania if you have bp. Is this still a risk if on two mood stableizers and an antipsychotic? My pdoc is against supplements other than omegas, vitamin d and a multi.
Currently on depakote(tapering down to go off of), lithium, and seroquel.
I was diagnosed bipolar about 7 years ago around the same time as my first suicide attempt. Long story short - I rejected the diagnosis and eventually went off all meds because I thought my issues stemmed from the stress of nursing school. School over - no meds needed.
About 3 years later, started seeing a new psychiatrist and taking antidepressants. I actually felt like I had my life back...
Then, at some point recently, my son died. I had an affair. My husband and I had another child. And then affair was discovered by my husband. The intense guilt and depression led me to try to kill myself, and I recently endured my first psychiatric hospitalization.
Wellbutrin and buspar were once my miracle cocktail. I'm still on those, plus lamictal, plus latuda. Latuda is not helping me. It may have cleared my suicidal thinking, but over all... I feel lost, stuck, hopeless, and let down. I've reached out to my psychiatrist for help so many times, and I'm screwed over by the incompetent office staff each time.
Can someone just tell me it gets better? Do I even deserve better after what I've done? I'm paranoid and delusional. My intrusive thoughts seem worse each day. I want to believe it gets better. Ive dropped down to working part time and I'm seriously considering quitting.
It used to be that I only felt competent at being a mother. But now I don't even feel I can do that right.
I'm a mess.
Is there any hope? If a med didn't work for you, did you find a med that did help? I want to feel like myself again... I feel so let down that latuda isn't helping me.
Thanks for listening...