I’m effing exhausted from soaring emotionally upward and then crashing down so often in the course of a week, all because of the new drugs I’ve been trying for the last couple months. I’ve never had bipolar tendencies in that when I get depressed, it lasts a longlong time and then I come out of it and return to my normal self for a while. I’ve never been manic except in short half-hour bursts and only if/when caffeine/other substances are involved, so that’s been ruled out of my diagnosis as well. However, with this new medicine, I’m very up and cheery and perky and uberproductive and optimistic and creative and perfect during the day until that inevitable instance once or twice a week when I plummet back to rock bottom. (And if I’ve had caffeine at all during the day my meds decide to pull the rug out from under me, the depression is even more exacerbated and hopeless.) This constant up-and-down has never happened to me before [yes, even when I was drinking] and, I have to say, I’m not fond of it. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE how I feel when the medication is in full swing and I’m bright and perky and everything seems beautiful and wonderful, but the comedown seems hardly worth it if it’s risking my sanity every few days. That’s not really a decent trade-off in my book. I want to be leveled-out, even if that means not feeling blissful on a daily basis. Euphoria’s fun and all, but the nature of a balanced universe insists that I have to come back to reality and, frankly, I’d rather just live in real emotion with natural peaks and valleys than these drug-motivated ones.

So, even though I received some really very cool, really very hopeful, really very dream-fulfilling news about my professional life last night and had a genuinely great evening, I still sat in the darkness of my house feeling empty and scared and alone until 2 a.m. when I finally meditated myself into a restless sleep. And it wasn’t based in anything at all, [not even those ridiculous self-loathing mantras my sick brain likes to repeat to itself during my bouts... I think they were taking the night off] which is more evidence that these deep crevices are purely from the drugs. That ain’t right.

Auuughh.. I’d like to be fixed now.