Well, it’s been nearly a month since my meds got switched back. On the whole it is good, although there has been a bit of weight gain. It is nothing I can’t manage. The good news is that I have had nearly a month of being stable, which after the fun of April and May has been sorely needed.
Stable. A word that most people really don’t appreciate. And how can they? A person can’t really appreciate taking something for granted until they experience life without it.
Now with me, there’s two sides of stability. One is mental. When we switched my meds in April, the dosage was too low. As I noted at the time, you don’t know this until you try it. My psychiatrist and I were concerned with how tired the new drug was making me. However, while one has to worry about side effects (and negative symptoms), the downside is that if the drugs are too low, symptoms start showing. In my case, my emotions became too strong and were washing me away and I was experiencing disorganized thinking. Of course, I was under severe emotional stress at the time which didn’t help.
We consequently brought the new drug’s dosage up. And I was fine for a few days. Unfortunately, I started to experience strong side effects on this higher dosage. My mental stability was fine, but the dizziness and cold sweats that I was experiencing really was unpleasant. I visited my psychiatrist again and he offered to put me back on the mix of the two drugs like I was on before or put me back on my old drug. I chose the latter because after going through all of that, all I wanted to be is stable.
Stable is a bit different than “normal.” Being stable is a necessary, though not sufficient condition to be “normal.” Sometimes I feel like I walk on a balance beam a centimetre wide over a large dark chasm. Everything affects me and the odd thing is that some days I can take some hard things in stride while on others little slight frustrations can be all that is needed to push me off my balance.
I do have a fair bit of practice at this balancing, though unfortunately it is not an Olympic sport. But I don’t have words to express my simple, desperate longing for a life where I don’t have to watch things like how much coffee I drink, or whether I need to go to bed early or not, or whether to ask a girl out or not.
I am not a fan of ignorance. This blog is dedicated to fighting it. On some level though, I wish that the mentally ill did not have such an education on how precious a simple thing like stability can be.