ANOTHER PSYCH APPOINTMENT--AND I'M WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN BEING LOCKED UP

This one's a little long, but I promise you'll learn something.

Anyone that knows me knows that, in the initial consultation with the psychiatrist, being locked up was worst case scenario for me. Dad was locked up for three months, was released, and killed himself that weekend. The doctors were at fault. Period. They prescribe medicine differently now because there were so many instances like my Dad. So even though treatment today is exponentially better and safer than it was then, I had an understandable fear of being locked up.

I was fully prepared to fight, and was fully expecting to be killed. You fight hard enough and hurt security enough, they have to plunk you. Yes, I was out of my mind. But if I could unleash what I was trying to control--just pure rage--and get a nice, neat suicide out of it, all the better.

Again, I was out of my mind. That was then. This is now, and now is much different. For the most part.

The only thing that stopped me from acting on that impulse was my beloved and beautiful wife crying against the wall. I didn't want her to see it or--even worse--get hurt in the scuffle. And in that, though I was locked up, I had the briefest glimmer of hope. Something that was quite honestly an alien sensation at that time. It rarely visits now, in fact. And it is hope I'm afraid of.

Every subsequent visit, I was worried about being locked up again. I had periods of extreme aggression. I had periods of crippling depression. But I always told the truth, worked with the doctors, and they haven't locked me back up. So far, anyway.

But this time, I'm getting tired of thinking they can help me. And getting my hopes up. Because if you have bipolar, you're never cured and only marginally made better. They can treat it, but there is no cure.

So, after much input from me and the research I had done and what I was comfortable with, they added lithium to my lamotrigine (amazing drug, originally used for epilepsy--I'll get into drugs later) and quedapine (a sedative/mood stabilizer sold as Seroquel). A little bit of lithium at first, just like every other med. I really do respect and put a lot of trust in my psych team. They take what I say into consideration, but also don't let me dictate decisions just cause it's what I want. I am very fortunate to live within driving distance of The Cleveland Clinic. And Cedar Point.

And the stuff actually worked. I felt okay. Which is a big deal.

I went to Cedar Point with my adorable Lydia that month, constantly sneaking pinches and gropes on her curvy little self while in line for the roller coasters (which I usually do anyway), had lunch in the best-kept secret restaurant there, and had an amazing time. The crowds didn't bother me. I was slightly less inclined to kill the jackoffs eyeballing my baby girl. I had fun. And when it rained, I got cranky, because it could have put a damper on our plans. The rain subsided, we had more fun, and then ended the night in the wee hours at Steve's Hotdog Lunch, the little diner on the intro to the Drew Carey show. Their hot dogs actually suck, though.

Both of those things--having fun when I should and getting cranky when I should--were MAJOR deals. Not something even I can put into an illustration. Okay, yeah, there isn't anything I can't put into an illustration. It was like that feeling you get after a monster migraine has subsided. The pain being gone feels good, even though you're just back to being normal.

Then the bottom fell out.

I had a major depressive episode that lasted for a few weeks, then a dark manic (I don't get "happy" manic) phase for another few. So they upped me. Same thing. Worked, then bottom fell out.

So they upped me again. I'm very near the therapeutic dose now, but the bottom fell out. Again. I have been rapid-cycling and combination cycling (both depression and mania at one time) again. Now I feel a little more even because I've been taking the Seroquel as prescribed, earlier in the evening, and I've been sleeping. I'm a zombie until about 10 am, but I sleep.

But I only feel a little more even.

My next appointment, after two months, is Thursday. And I don't know where to go from where I'm at. They have one possible bump up in the lithium, but can I trust it? Do I try another new med that I could react very poorly to?

It is so FRUSTRATING! It seems like we're right on the doorstep. Right there. But every step leads to one more step. And I don't believe I'll ever reach the top.

So I'll just say the same thing I tell family and coworkers before an appointment, and see what happens:

"If you don't see me again, look for me on the news."