What Happened When My Bipolar Disorder Medication Started Working


What happens when your medications actually start working? I have been asking myself this for some time now. Because my medications are working, and today I feel so good.

In the past few weeks, I have been sick of myself, hating myself, being in a constant low, and crying for no reason. All of this happened because my medication cocktail was wrong. It’s like October doesn’t exist for me now, because I don’t want to think about those days. Those days remind me of my past — a past where I was paralyzed with fear of my own brain.

My medications have recently been changed, and suddenly I feel good. But I ask myself, is this actually feeling good or just part of a manic phase? See, I have trouble trusting my brain, for legitimate reasons. Wouldn’t you, if you were a prisoner of your own mind? But still, I thought about writing this when I’m almost feeling good about myself, because this doesn’t happen often.

I feel relieved for the most part. I feel like I was trapped inside a box of emotions, suffocating, alone in the dark. That changed with my new medications. So I constantly like talking about it. I randomly tell my husband how I’m feeling better with the new medicine, how my life must have improved from the ill-fated October to now.

I don’t want to get over-confident though, because in the back of my head the voice tells me I don’t deserve happiness.

I feel afraid, terrified. Because the nagging voice in the back of my head perpetually keeps reminding me of the things that could happen if I crash again. Because my anxiety won’t let me go. “What if? What if? What if?” It just so happens that my relationship with anxiety is a very complicated one.

My depression and mania can be subdued by the medications, but I don’t think I can say the same for my anxiety. I’m tired of being anxious all the time, even now, when I should have a few peaceful moments of feeling good. What if it’s just another manic phase? What if my medications stop working one day? What if this is a start of a whole new kind of low? What if this is just the calm before the storm? What if?

From my bipolar disorder to my PTSD, it’s as though my brain has conjured up a cocktail of mental illnesses for every occasion. Like even now, when I should celebrate while I can, but I can’t. I feel like celebrations are not really for me. And when I get a chance to celebrate, I can’t take it in fear of jinxing it.

Today, I finally felt something new. What if I deserve a bit of happiness? What if this is not part of my mental illnesses at all? What if I’m feeling good for all the right reasons? What if this is what it feels like to be “normal”? After all, isn’t that what I want? To feel “normal”? What if, for once, I don’t let my anxiety win?

I want to conclude by saying that no, my feet are still rooted to the ground. But I realized I deserve a little bit of good in the middle of the storm that goes on in my mind. I might just take a little time out to enjoy this feeling a bit, even though it might just be a mirage created by my brain. I want to thank my psychiatrist mostly, because without these medications I’d still be rotting inside myself. And I don’t think they get thanked enough for the help they do.

Today was a good day. I hope tomorrow will be, too.

Image via Thinkstock.

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