At work today I called Bossman a ‘fucking cunt’. It was under my breath so he did not hear it which is how it was meant to be. Imagine if people heard all the things we muttered about them under our breath. We would be jobless and friendless for sure.
Today I thought a lot about the few paragraphs that I wrote yesterday. Mainly about the comment I made how there is no real information about how life is for people who have bipolar after they get a handle on some stability. It is something that I think about often.
I know that I have spoken about my own depression and bipolar a lot in my previous blog but I now feel the need to deconstruct everything to help me reconcile myself to the person that I feel I am these days.
When I was about 39 years old my doctor sent me to a psychiatrist as I had to change my anti depressant medication and the doctor was the sort who preferred a psych to assess a patient before making any medication changes.
I had never been to a pysch before. I am not the sort who can open up easily and I was very resistant to it. But I went. We did not hit it off at all. He was rigid and I was in denial I suppose. After a number of intensely uncomfortable visits I decided not to go. I was not ready for anything like this.
After the first three visits he said to me that he believed I was bipolar and he wanted me to not take anti depressants, he wanted me to go on Lithium. I said he was wrong and there was no way I was going on that, ever. He brought it up a few more times and then I stopped going. I ended up changing GP’s and got a script for Lexapro which did me well enough until I came off all medication in 2005.