A Rose by Any Other Name

pink roseI’m so incredibly nervous writing this, and at the same time . . . feels like home. I have been completely overwhelmed by the positive responses to my last blog post. Just–flabbergasted, truly. Those lovely comments came on the heels of a little over seven months of severe depression and severe anxiety, which brings me to why it’s been so long since I’ve posted.

So many times, when one grows up in an alcoholic family, or any sort of dysfunctional family, it becomes all about the alcoholic for so long, or about the person or sickness that draws the most attention from the family–not that they don’t each have difficulties, but the alcoholic or whatever stands out like a fresh pimple. You see? It has been true for me.

It is time now for my recovery to be about me. There is plenty to talk about just in my case, trust me. I have blemishes beyond blemishes. I even am an imperfectly flawed person, which I hope makes sense to some metaphorically-inclined soul out there.

Recently, as recent as last Friday, I was finally dx’d with bipolar depression and told I was in a manic episode (not hypomanic). I had only been sleeping maybe 2 1/2 hours a night, and I was unable to focus on anything; not TV, not reading (I had five books going at once, but had not finished a book through since Doctor Sleep at Christmastime, very frustrating for me, a book lover); extremely irritable; and easily startled awake from a catnap during the day.

My dazzling doctor gave me samples of a new bipolar med which is not supposed to cause weight gain (a big problem–get it? I crack myself up, truly). It’s called Latuda, and since it’s only about six months old, there’s not a chance my insurance would pay for it, and it would cost about a thousand bucks to get filled. Yeah.  *respectful pause for that number to sink in*

I’ve been on it two days, and last night I slept 4 1/2 hours straight through. w00t!

There’s a lot more I have to say, about the last seven months, and a lot I want to say about the mental health care system in the U.S.A. and Michigan in particular, but I’ll stop here. I don’t want to bog you all down too much on my first day back in forever.

My gratitude bucket overflows. Peace out. xoxochange

 

4 Comments

  1. Glad to see you’re posting again!

    I’m glad the doctor could at least give you samples of the medication. So sorry that it’s so expensive! 😦

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    1. Thanks, Erin!
      Yes, it’s unfortunate. I don’t know what I’ll do the day I go see him and he doesn’t have any samples! Yikes. :/

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  2. Chris, I’m so glad you’re posting again, and I’m glad you finally got a diagnosis. There’s comfort in that alone, I know. But what a bummer that you can’t get coverage for a medication that seems to be working for you. Cheers to you for deciding to finally take care of yourself! God will give you strength to make it through this journey. You’ll be in my prayers. And keep crocheting!

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    1. Oh, Elaine,
      You are such a dear, loyal, friend. I’m glad to be posting again too. Yes, it’s a bummer about the meds, but I’m grateful my doctor will keep me supplied with samples. He’s that kind of a guy.
      I have faith God has taken me this far, and He will take me the rest of the way, for sure.
      Crocheting is taking a bit of getting used to again, but I’m doing it every day. I have some trepidation, and I’m doing mono-color projects again, but so what? It’ll come in it’s time. ❤ xoxo

      Like

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