A little background- I have either schizoaffective disorder or bipolar disorder with psychotic features. It's sort of hard to tell exactly because they're very similar- mood swings (as seen in bipolar disorder) and psychotic features like hallucinations and delusions (as seen in schizophrenia).
Today I had a 12:45 appointment with my psychiatrist in Pueblo. Let's call him Steve. I have had a string of psychiatrists over the years and though I like Steve quite a bit, my favorite was my last one- let's call her Jane. I liked Jane because she was kind and patient and it was obvious that she cared about me, not just as a patient that she had to help, but as a person. She smiled when she saw me and gave me hugs when I left. I would still be going to her, except for the fact that after all those years we kind of exhausted our options, and were left with the last resort- Clozaril. Clozaril, an anti-psychotic, is very effective but it's the last resort for a reason- it can be very dangerous. It can severely reduce your white blood cell count, which can leave you susceptible to various infections and, in extreme cases, death. Therefore, not just anyone will prescribe Clozaril- it's a whole lot of trouble, dangerous trouble, and requires a lot of vigilance and blood testing. So, Jane had to refer me to Steve, who specializes in it.
I would like to go ahead and say now that I understand lots of people these days are all anti-meds and say that they're unnecessary and everybody runs to get pills the minute they feel anything but perfect and I understand that. I think that has valid points. But the drug Clozaril really changed my life.. maybe saved it. Oh, I've had some shitty meds. Lithium made my hands shake and gave me a scarred face for life due to the severe acne. Prozac did nothing, except maybe make my depression worse. Abilify had me throwing up daily for months. And thanks mostly to a combination of many, I was kind of a zombie for a few years.
However, as unpleasant as those meds and their side affects were, the symptoms of the actual disease weren't a whole lot of fun, either. Suicidal depression and out-of-control mania. Visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile hallucinations. Paranoia. I'm sorry but you can't blame me for not wanting those either! So for the past nine years or so, I've been on and off a lot of meds, waiting for the right combination to click, refusing to give up.
Prozac, Lithium, Welbutrin, Seroquel, Geodon, Zyprexa, Risperdal, Abilify, Valium, Depakote, Lamictal, Topomax, Invega, they all kind of run together in my mind. But after all those failed or were mediocre at best, I finally talked with Jane and we agreed that Clozaril was my next step. I remember tentatively asking her, "What if it doesn't work? What do I do then?" and she just smiled and told me, "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."
I am so happy to report that bridge never came. Immediately when I began taking Clozaril, letting it build up in my system, and slowly stopping the others, I began to feel good. Really good. I stopped seeing things out of the corners of my eyes. I stopped hearing the TV on in the other room when it was really off. My moods leveled off. I stopped panicking. I started to really enjoy life instead of just tolerating it. I felt like I was waking up after being half asleep for a long, long time.
Now you might be thinking, "So why tell us all this Sarah? Are you bragging? Are you proud?"
You know, I kind of am. I sure as hell am not ashamed of my problems, not in the slightest, because in my opinion there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I think its kind of sad when people have problems like mine and don't admit it or talk about it, because they feel it's something horrible and disgraceful. Excuse me, but fuck that.
A couple years ago I found a quote from Abraham Lincoln that I love: "A tendency to melancholy... let it be observed, is a misfortune, not a fault."
I don't let my problems define me, but I don't deny that they have had a large part in my growth and my journey to where I am now. There's no doubt in my mind that I would be a completely different person than I am now if I hadn't had these problems, and as of right now, I love who I am.
It's true that not everything is great. I have monthly blood tests and probably will for the rest of my life, and I hate having to renew my driver's licence because I have to go get a doctor to fill out a form about my medical history and problems and they have to okay my driving. Also, I must stress that you don't "cure" bipolar or schizoaffective disorder, you treat it. I still have shitty days every once in a while, but who doesn't? I doubt that I will ever come anywhere close to most people's definition of "normal", but that's cool too and probably has less to do with my mental/emotional problems, and more to do with the fact that I'm just plain weird and proud of it :)
Finally, it's also true that being open about my problems is sort of hard because I'm not 100% positive if I have schizoaffective disorder or bipolar disorder with psychotic features.. Usually I just say "bipolar" so I don't have to go into specifics to explain. Maybe I need my own word for my diagnosis. Maybe I'm Tripolar- up, down, and crazy, normal me.
:)
Sarah
P.S. After reading through this blog, I realize I've made it sound like I've done this all on my own. NOT TRUE. I have had amazing, unbelievable support from friends, family, doctors, therapists, and this one particular dog. Without them, I think I would have given up a long time ago.
