Mercy

Ya know that game…Mercy, Uncle, whatever…You cry out when you’ve had enough and concede defeat.

Well..I am crying mercy.

It doesn’t matter whether it was a good day or not. Fact is, it was a day requiring multiple trips into the petri dish and dealing with people and crowds and…It took a lot out of me. The anxiety beforehand tapped me out as well. My mood has been so shifty. Up and down. Little sparks of life, then…CRASH. My brain is a traffic jam of thought. (And Xanax is supposed to slow the brain down yet mine is a fucking Tasmanian devil of thought even if I take the whole bottle.) I can’t focus. I’ve had three migraines today because the thoughts just swirl so fast, so furious. I’m tired even if I didn’t do anything strenuous and have no right to say it. I am saying it. I am tired.

Mercy.

The shrink wants me to stay on the Viibryd 40mg for six more weeks then she will see me again and go from there. Six weeks without an appointment is fine by me, the anxiety it induces sucks. But I also have to go get bloodwork for a Lithium level and…God, my kingdom for a brain that just does what it’s supposed to do. I am sick of doctors and pills and side effects. While the Lithium numb trumps the out of control bouts of crying and screaming…Gotta say, I’m getting REALLY fed up with the daily nausea. I eat with it, after it, and half the time, I still end up feeling like I am going to hurl up an internal organ. Toss in the groggy mind fog and neverending munchies…

I think I’d just as soon wish for this mental shit to go away as I would wish to win the lottery. Being able to think clearly, consistently, would be worth far more than money.

It occurred to me today that mental illness is a lot like Alzheimer’s. My grandma has the latter and when people visit, it’s always gauged by whether she is in her “:right” mind or not. If she is, she knows who we are and acts civilized. If not, she gets downright hostile and acts out or shuns because we’re strangers to her. Not her fault. It’s an illness.

So why can’t people realize mental illness is the same? It all hinges on being in your right mind and with me, cyclothymia means I am rarely in my right mind for very long. It’s constant cycles, constant changes, constant contradictions because at 9 am I may be manic and confident happy fun ball…Then  by 3 pm, I may be panicy terrified paranoia chick who glares daggers because I am feeling threatened and scared.

Altered mental status is the same whether mental illness or alzheimers, but I’m sure that statement will be met with opposition. I stand by it.

Mercy. As much as I’d love to stay up and read or write or play word games…My brain is screaming for a break and in the words of Celebrity Deathmatch’s Mills Lane….I’ll allow it.

Advertisements

3 Responses to “Mercy”

  1. Good to let it out. My grandmother had Alzheimers too. One minute it’s I love you, next, who are you! There are similarities.

    • morgueticiaatoms Says:

      Similarities,yes. HUGE difference is my grandma gets “Oh, that poor woman.” I get “You’re such a crazy bitch!” It makes me giggle through my annoyance. Maybe in my 70’s I can pass the bipolar off as Alzheimers and no longer be viewed as evil.

      On Wed, Feb 12, 2014 at 11:04 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: