Sunday, July 22, 2012
Of course the warped part of that is the fact that The Chair is, in itself, evil. It is my prison. I don't see it that way, but it is.
The Last Stand.
If you are of a certain age you remember the old tube televisions. After turning off the set I used to watch the once vibrant and engaging picture get smaller and smaller until it glowed as the tiniest little dot in the middle of the screen. That dot stayed there for quite some time, and then it was gone. Much like that concentrated speck of light - an entire universe on the head of a pin - my world has shrunk to the size of a recliner.
After the failings of Lithium, Risperidone, and Lamictal, which gave me Stevens Johnson Syndrome (still dealing with the side effects of that), my doctors have moved on down the pharma line to depakote. My doctor was so concerned about side effects that he started me on a very small dose - 250 mg daily for four days, and 500 mg daily thereafter for a couple of weeks. We will move up at that time if all goes well. I took my first 500 mg dose last night. So far, so good.
Swallowing that first depakote pill took every bit of bravery and strength I had. It took me two days to build up the courage...turning the prescription bottle over in my hands for hours. Pills have not been my friend. In fact, the pills charged with bringing me back from suicidal ideation nearly killed me.
The words come so much harder now, so I have very little to say. It is important to mention that I am not a victim to my diagnoses. If you could see inside my head you would see an epic battle being waged against the disorders by my desire to be well and live a balanced and joyful life. I do not sit here because I've given up. I sit here because I'm holding this fucking mountain as a last line of defense against disappearing forever.