Feeling Myself

So, the quest begins, but unfortunately it’s very slow.

For the first time in a long time I really feel like myself.  Sure, there’s some rough patches, but, I feel like me!

Problem is though, is that I think I can do better, and to do better I have a gut feeling I need to change up my medication.  I think my medication is preventing me from experiencing feelings, my inner personality, and such.  Reducing my medication has helped me feel new things.  But, this is an upward battle.

My mother doesn’t understand why, if I’m feeling so much ‘better’ why I would want to mess with it.  She said that she thinks I think I’m going to take less meds and then have this epiphany.  I told her that I didn’t think I’d have an epiphany, and that in a since, though this may sound manic, I have already had a bit of an epiphany.  I’ve been reminded of what it feels like to be me.

Sometimes it’s glorious, and sometimes it sucks, and that’s okay.  Really, when it comes down to it, everybody is like that.  I think I’m better.  I know that this is all hard and cliche to hear.  So many people get on meds and then think they are better, go off them, and disastrous things happen.  My mother told me of someone who had a psychotic episode and drowned in a lake after he went off his medication.

This is really an uphill battle.  But, I know in my heart of hearts that this is the right thing to do.  I’ve been on medication my entire adult life, and it’s helped a lot.  It’s saved me during some really hard times.

I appreciate everything medication does.  It’s not like I think, oh, I shouldn’t be on medication because I don’t like pills, or I don’t like the idea of medication dependence.  It’s not that I don’t think they don’t do anything.  I know for absolute certainty that the moment I reduce my medication, things are going to be really rough for a while… but I also know that they’ll get better.

I want to live my best self.  I want to live with creativity, with feeling, with passion, and intelligence.  I think my medication is blocking some of that.  Now that the Lamictal dose is lowered by half, I feel again, but I’m still having trouble thinking, and feeling.

I can’t cry.  I think that’s kind of a problem.  Even when my rat was euthanized a couple days ago, I didn’t cry.  I felt like I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I can handle things.  I know my last post was a little all over the place, and I get that.  It was kind of a rough day for me, but I’ve come a ways in the last couple days.  I can handle having a pet from birth to death for instance.  That’s a big deal!

I’ve consciously set boundaries for myself that have allowed me to not get disturbed, and to not get into something that ultimately won’t work for me and hurt me.

For the first time in a long time, I actually like people other than myself.  I remember what it was like when I was just starting out adult life, when I was twenty-two for instance and just met Maus.  I moved in with him after three months into a less than perfect situation.

I’ve spent so many hours, so many days, wishing I was twenty-two again, or eight, or sixteen… feeling crappy, sad, and bad about the things that have happened and didn’t happen.  Aching to be like how I was before, at least the good parts.  Sure, there were some bad parts, but, that doesn’t mean they’ll come back and not be handle-able.

But now… I feel like I’m twenty-two again.  Albeit, in a thirty-three year old’s body, but, that doesn’t matter.  For once I feel like myself.  And I know I wrote before about not really loving people.  I was just trying to sort out some feelings, confusing transitional things I couldn’t get out of.  But, I think I do love people.  I think I love people a lot, even if I can’t cry when they die.

I feel like I’m free, and willing.  I don’t have to walk in the shadow of my past, I don’t have to walk in the shadow of things that could’ve been but never were.  I can take charge of my life and create the one I like, with the people I like.

It’s like how we’re rearranging our apartment.  It’s all different, and in some ways it doesn’t quite work optimally, but I like it better.  I want to rearrange my insides.  I want to rearrange my brain into something better.  Into something I love being in.  If this is what it feels like to love yourself, then I’m all for it.  I really feel like I love myself.  I haven’t felt this way in a long time.

I can actually say, I love life.

Do you know how amazing that is?

I know this is probably coming off as a manic episode, but it’s not.  I wish there was a way I could open up my brain to other people so they could see inside and believe me.  I know what a manic episode feels like, I know what dissociation feels like, what dysphoria feels like.  They all suck.  I don’t like being manic, I’ve never liked being manic actually.

I want to meet people.  I want to do things.  I want to forge a new path.  I feel like I can finally wrest a little bit of coolness into my life.

My appointment with the nurse practitioner is on the 22nd.  I’m a little impatient honestly.  She wanted to meet earlier than that, but she didn’t have an opening.  In fact, she wanted to meet this week really, so it’s natural that I want to see her now.  The only ‘problem’ is that this is going to take forever, reducing my medication.  I’ll only ever get reductions two months apart at a time.  Just to get Lamictal to zero, which was a goal she expressed, it’ll probably be Christmas.

But yeah.  Clank bit the dust.  His condition declined really fast.  We think he had a pituitary tumor.  He couldn’t hold anything with his front paws, and kept falling off the couch.  He couldn’t pick up any food to eat, and he had trouble walking.  He stopped standing up, and he stopped licking our hands.  So we took him to the vet, and in the end, we euthanized him.  This was all in the span of a week and a half, so it was a little abrupt.

Now Ratchet doesn’t have a rat companion, so we’ll have to pay extra attention to him so that he doesn’t get lonely.  I’m supposed to pick up Ratchet’s ashes today from the vet.  Like I wrote before, I didn’t cry, even though I wanted to.  The last memory I have of Ratchet is on the vet table, him clutching a piece of his favorite treat in his teeth.

Ah well, so goes on life.  Well, that’s about it for now.  A lot of stuff going on, and it’s difficult, but manageable, and terribly exciting.

photo credit: X0002P0143 via photopin (license)


I'm just a wunk, trying to enjoy life. I am a cofounder of http//originalpursuitssoc.com/ and I like computers, code, creativity, and friends.

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