Lamictal and Adderall together again

Lamictal is the cause. I just completely crashed. Dan is still at that event. I didn’t want to bother him. I have few friends – none that I want to burden with my darkest thoughts. Ended up calling my mother.

She has never heard me in my lows. She demanded I call a doctor, immediately. I wish things were that simple.

“Mom, I see a doctor and therapist every week. And I’ll be seeing the new psychiatrist in three weeks. I called my doctor last weekend. I call her two-ish times a week. There isn’t any magic to make this stop.”

I’m still not sure if I should have called. But I need to speak to somene else. I had lost it. Crying. Cursing at myself. Hoping death would strike.

We spoke for about 20 minutes, she had to go help with children. She told me to call if anything gets worse. “I’ll have my phone on me all night. I’ll give you a call in a few hours regardless.”

I got up and took 20mg of Adderall. Then used everything I had to put myself in the car and drive to the store. I felt a bit odd.

Oh, it had been roughly three hours since I took Lamictal (Lamotrigine). between two and four hours, I usually start to feel it. Apparently that makes sense:

Lamotrigine is rapidly and completely absorbed after oral administration. Its absolute bioavailability is 98% and its plasma Cmax occurs from 1.4 to 4.8 hours.
From: Wikipedia

As Lamictal starts to work, my entire body feels the change. Over the course of a minute or so, the constant self-hate recedes.

Twelve hours of peace. Then, another pill.

 

Adderall or Beer?

Haven’t left the house for twenty-five hours now. God. I FUCKING HATE MYSELF.

Partner has a fancy event tonight. Happens every year. I’ve always gone. Last year I struggled. This year, too scared. Too many people, too loud, too long… This disorder, this bipolar thing, it is winning. It is so fucking winning.

Told the most important person in my life, no, I can’t. You’ve done so much for me, so god damn much. But, walking outside? Christ. No.

This blog isn’t suppose to me just whining like a bitch. Poor me. I suffer so, with my perfect relationship, a nice neighborhood, access to doctors and medication, pity me.

Want to know the worst part? We don’t have a ton of food in the house. I ordered a pizza yesterday night while my partner (lets call him Dan), while Dan was out. I ordered two, making sure I’d have a lot of extras. I’ve had pizza for three meals now. It will likely be a fourth.

I don’t want god damn pizza. This is why I have gained so much fucking weight. I am god damn disgusting. I fucking fuck fucking hate this.

There a bunch of cheap goodish places to eat near me. Do I go out? I doubt it. Instead, I will hide in home. Wasting life, crying about nothing, wishing I was actually suicidal.

You know, without this, I could have been someone. Really. God, I think so. I am pretty sure though. I work really hard when I can. And enjoy work. I want to have a family so so bad. I’d love to work in a different industry, maybe something with engineering. With a higher income we could afford to have kids.

Now? I dream that this ends. This crippling, all-encompassing, self-hate. I get headaches from it. I’ll start plummeting and after an hour or so of concentrating so intently on how much of a piece of shit I am, I’ll take a few Tylenol. And Advil.

Tried taking my 100mg in Lamictal in two doses today. I am hoping it just hasn’t kicked in yet. But I can’t even tell anymore. What med is doing what? What is me? What is normal?

The big decision is, do I take a bunch of Adderall to make this stop? I can always justify it. Most doctors who see me while crashing have given me more wiggle room with my medications. It just needs to stop. But I have already taken some Adderall today. It can give me anxiety, but I am never sure when. Do I risk it?

Drinking is the other option. However, my fat ass has gained 25 lbs over the last year. My body is wreck. Ha. It reflects my mind I guess. Drinking can solve it to. But god, every time I have taken shots while home alone I cry. I know it is destructive behavior. I do. But I don’t want to always being fighting myself. I just need a break. I need… I don’t know.

Whatever I decide, it doesn’t matter. A few hours of pretending life is acceptable again. Then back useless pathetic god damn worthless shitty self. Go me. Fuck.

Pathetic -Die Die Die

Sitting at home alone. Fuck. My partner went out to dinner with friends. I was invited – out in public? Hell no. Socially? Hell no. God.

I’ve been alright for the past hour, but now I am huddled on the couch intensely focusing on how much I fucking hate myself. I get so tired of being a pathetic piece of shit. I’m always a fucking wreck.

Sometime between 7 – 9pm the worrying starts. I don’t even notice it at first. Just in the back of my head, all these thoughts start spinning. Insecurities, tasks to accomplish, life goals, disappointments, failing, etc. slowly they all bubble up. I’m usually well down the road of self-hate before I notice. Anxiety multiplied by ten, I start to think about dying. I fucking hate myself so much.

Diagnosed and been on lamictal for 3 weeks now. I’ve increased my dose every six days, doctors and I are desperate to get rid of these thought. Fuck a rash, don’t even care. I’m now on 100mg . But it always fades 12-14 hours after I take it. Is that bullshit?

All I’ve learned over the past few years is to never trust myself or my emotions. Fuck.

This rollercoast brought to me by Lamictal

Today sucked.

That is the original title of this post. It perfectly describes my day without devulging any details. It is the type of sentence I used on few folks I am moderately close to at work.

It describes my day without having to worry about the details. Did my day suck because Jimmy didn’t sit with me at lunch? Or did it suck because I stubbed my toe while getting ready this morning? Or did it suck because from 11am on, I wanted to die.

Why? I don’t know. Well, I do. Life is pointless. You are worthless. I  am especially worthless. We all live 80ish years and then we die. In a 100 years, nobody will remember you, nor will they care. The observable part of our grand universe is roughly 93 billion light years across. Our entire planet could cease to exist — it wouldn’t matter.

Yes, I understand. Many are aware of the infinitesimal size of our planet, and it does not overwhelm then. They don’t cling to the thought of how worthless this makes them and everything around them. They likely even build meaning and purpose in their own lives.

Also, it doesn’t always overwhelm me. It often does though. Today it did.

For no reason whatsoever, around 11am I spiraled into the abyss. Sure, stressful stuff went down at work, it happens. Stress happens. Over the past few weeks Lamictal kept me safe.

It didn’t help me fight those fight my morbid thoughts. It eliminated them. Part of my brain, the part that is full of fear, doubt, anxiety, disappointment, guilt — that part shut-off. Over the past 48 hours, it came back on.

Three weeks ago, I didn’t even understand how low I was. I slowly stopped doing everything over the past three years. In the last few months, bathing even fell by the wayside. It wasn’t a conscious decision, I was just avoiding anything I found “stressful”. Having the energy to bathe, I started to show less. And less. My perspective is so different, I wasn’t even aware of this while it was happening.

Having tasted “normal”, I will not go back. I can’t. Every minute I spent treasuring thoughts of suicide, or beating myself up over constant failings. Even when doing tasks or talking to someone, in the back of my head, those thoughts ran on repeat.

It has been a week since I uped my Lamictal to 50mg, and that I did a week early. I called my doctor to get her input. The nursing assistant wrote down my message. An hour later she called back.

Nurse: The doctor said to stick with the schedule she gave you last week. She doesn’t want you to have any side-effects.

Me: Okay. I am really struggling. Like, really. And I can’t go back, having it incapacitate me like it did. And I already feel like I am halfway there. I can’t.

Nurse: Yes. I can let the doctor know your response.

Me: Yeah. Let her know that I will not be following her advice. I don’t care about a rash. At this point, it is more dangerous for me to have this then any rash. I am certain of that.

Two hours later, I got a call back. It was my doctor. I love her, we get along well and over the past two years have gotten to know each other. Obviously she expressed concern. In the five minute conversation that followed, she stated she understood. But to make sure and check for any sign of a rash.

I promised I would. And I will. But as I explained to her, even if I get a rash, even if it is life-threatening, I doubt I would want to be taken off Lamictal.

The past two weeks have been entirely knew. If what I am is bipolar, I’ve been bipolar since at least third grade. “Crashing” started then, or “depressive episodes” as my doctor calls them. They never stopped.

Well, that isn’t true. Over the past two weeks, none. Gone. Disappeared.

I am not going back.

 

 

Four hours of sleep

Got into bed at eleven, woke up at 2:14am, then 3:10. At 3:37, I got up. Moved to the couch, sometimes just a different locations helps. It didn’t.

Last time I saw, 5:07. Then — BEEEEEEEP – 6:35am. Roughly four hours of sleep. Oh well, Adderall.

Two of Lamictal, two of Effexor, one of Deplin, one Propecia and one Spironolactone. Finally, Adderall.

Carefully, I break a pill in half, none to waste. Slightly bigger half goes into my mouth, the other half back in the bottle. Wouldn’t face the world without at least 15mg. Addict.

Adderall is a miracle. Three years have pasted since that first pill. My anxious, shy and self-defeating nature evaporated as my body processed the amphetamine. Suddenly confident, driven and intense — nothing could stop me.

But that was years ago. Those feeling rarely come anymore, unless I take far too much. Instead, the past year and half I’ve spiraled down. Never going to be good enough. Never. Suicide has always been such a soothing idea. Ever since the first time I planned it, third grade.

Adderall didn’t help much today. The power I used to feel on it now has a proper clinical term, “hypomanic”. Having been on Lamictal for two weeks now, I never understood how and what could change. My mood is more stable then I have ever experienced.

But Adderall is now just a medicine to aide in concentrating. It no longer makes me super human. It no longer cures every woe. It no longer can make feel like 110% on 4 hours of sleep.

My day was long and difficult. Even with Adderall.

I’ll miss the temporary fix Adderall provided. Sad? Adderall. Tired? Adderall. Stressed? Adderall. Nervous? Adderall. The Adderall short-cut is over. Bed time has been adjusted.

Now it is time for permanent solutions, I will cede anything them.

 

 

Vyvanse made me do it…

Eleven days ago, the word “bipolar” shot out of my doctor’s mouth. That day I started Lamictal, four days later. Now — everything is different. Within four days I knew Lamictal was doing something. The relentless negative thoughts, fear, anxiety, stress, started becoming distant. By day six, they didn’t seem to be there at all.

Tonight, all of it came rushing back. Due to an insurance issue, I wasn’t able to get pick up my Adderall prescription this weekend. Thankfully, I had a few Vyvanse capsules to fall back on.

I had switched off of Vyvanse three weeks ago, when I hit a new low. Having only been on it for two months, doctor switched me back to Adderall hoping to help with my overwhelming anxiety. Never did I understand how much anxiety Vyvanse caused me.

Never, until tonight. Five hours after taking the pill, panic set in. Suddenly, stress, anxiety and fear too hold. Having been stable for over a week, it didn’t make sense. But it did. It must be Vyvanse, it must.

The stablity of my mood over the past ten days, incredible. Today, Vyvanse is the difference. Anxiety, obviously, hinders clear thinking. Otherwise I would have been done with Vyvanse months ago.

Oh well. It appears to be a long road ahead… Well, life-long, if I am truly bipolar. I’m grateful to understand my body a bit more today. And grateful that Vyvanse will be out of my body in just a few short hours.