‘And She Gets Her Cigars From The Sweet, Fat Man…’



To say typing this is difficult is an understatement…typing anything is still hard…my fingers can’t find the keys….Its been  almost 3 weeks and I did what I set out to do. I went to the doctor, with the intention of getting medicine to fix…or to help things, at least. I did the typical convincing thing I always do-the same thing I’m infamous for, especially when it comes to jolly, fat men…ah the history I have with jolly fat men…no, seriously…if you only knew the history I’ve had with portly guys…here comes the digression, right?

I was given Topamax…Of course I wasn’t given the proper directions-I was told to take the old standard 100 mgs twice daily-but no mention to work my way up to that dose slowly-luckily, I remembered from the past i needed to begin slowly….and the beginning dose of 25mg was a pretty fucking good indication that things weren’t going to be so great-The tremors began, all thoughts and most words began to evade me, and swallowing became challenging by the third day. My eyes couldn’t stop ‘fixing’ on objects and I began to feel like really,really,really starting a fight with the deviants we’re surrounded by…within the first week, I had countless very swift panic attacks, couldn’t sleep longer than 15 minutes at a time, and the idea of most foods made me sick,but I soldiered on…working my way-too quickly toward the 100 mg twice daily dose, rather than taking the advised sloooooooooooow weekly increased doses…I wanted to simply get to the daily dose and fucking pray that it kicked in and the doped out of my mind effects went away and i would begin to feel some kind of peace…but it didn’t happen. What DID happen during this time was the sciatic pain that I have felt non-stop for the past 7 years, and what is no doubt causing the myoclonic twitching as soon as I fall asleep each night stopped by the second night, so though I was both wired and stoned out of my brain, I was finally able to rest comfortably for the first time since the beginning of the year, finally-no. insane. twitching! But then the tingling and heaviness kicked in my feet,legs and hands and I assumed I was being pushed deep into some kind of new MS relapse, so at the the same time I was wrestling with upping the Topamax too swiftly, I began a mega 16 day dose of Prednisone to counterattack the craziness that was happening to my body. As of today, I had 4 more days of Preds left….Unfortunately the effing “Dopamax” has killed the usual energy the Preds give me, but as of today, I am nearly weaned from the crazy roller coaster of Topamax too-it was fucking madness to say the least…because though it gave me complete relief from the nerve pain and crazy leg twitching, it made me feel more brain dead that anything had ever made  me feel (I’m laughing at the fact that I actually just typed that same statement THREE times-a perfect example of how stoned this garbage is still making me and I’m down to 12 MG twice daily) so on Monday or Tuesday next week, its back to the doctor, (and NOT to the jolly fat man this time) for something different-I suspect it will be Lamictal time again, which I can’t honestly say was a bad thing last time-just killed my highs…but my highs ditched me a long time ago, so anything beats what I’m going through right now…The past few weeks have been nothing more than a blur-lots of crying fits, panic attacks, N had oral surgery almost 2 weeks ago which meant antibiotics every 6 hours and that meant my mother instincts kicked in-despite my crazy Topamax haze and I was serving him chocolate pudding full of Strattera & Clindamycin while he was knocked out on the pain meds the dentist gave him…How I did it? mother’s instinct…it had to be, because I did very little else over that period of time…Fucking Topamax should be obliterated, seriously.

I attempted to have a phone call with my mother yesterday-to explain that the medicine wasn’t working and I needed something  to help me with what I am going through….in her typical fashion, someone who clearly doesn’t have a clue about bipolar, she simply ends the call with ‘well go back to see the doctor and ask for something to help your back pain’….What do I say to someone that completely refuses to understand or see that something is really fucking  wrong with me? How every day right now is a constant struggle to just  hold on because surely there is something that will fix this and make things easier for me? How every time a pill doesn’t work and every sleepless night feels like a failure and the whole world feels helpless and I feel like slipping into some kind of darkness and resetting the clock back to beginning because I’ve obviously fucked everything up for myself and for everyone else around me? Why would I even bother? I didn’t…I just said ‘Yeah, OK’, and left it at that.


Maybe tomorrow I’ll finally blog about what it feels like to be a zombie.

Mildly distracted still, but coming back ’round slowly,




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