I took one this morning to help me get through the day. I’ve been having such severe anxiety since getting off of the Abilify. The Lamictal is not helping.
Mental illness has such a negative stigma that I hesitate to even write about it on this blog. But yes, I am bipolar. I have had 2 manic episodes in my lifetime, and multiple episodes of depression (so many that I lost count.)
Bipolar disorder has rearranged my entire life. It almost kept me from graduating from college and it cost me my last job. It put me in the hospital and damages my life in ways I can’t repair.
My mom and dad are coming to visit me today. They are part of my support system – and they are always there for me. They came to visit me when I was in the hospital, and they hovered over me when I had my first manic episode. I am very grateful to them for all the support they give me. Sometimes, when I’m really deep in depression, my dad will call and just hearing his voice makes me cry with relief. He always seems to know what to say to help me get through it. I suppose knowing the black dog himself helps him impart his coping methods to me.
So back to the meds: Klonopin is one of the drugs that I’m scared of. It’s an addictive, often abused tiny pink pill that I am prescribed to take “as needed.” Well, I never needed it so I stayed away from it. But now, I can see that I need it in order to help maintain my sanity, keep me even, and prevent me from losing everything for the second time in my life.
So I took it. And it helps. But I hate it.