This is the last day of our acquaintance
I will meet you later in somebody’s office
I’ll talk but you won’t listen to me
I know what your answer will be
I know you don’t love me anymore
You used to hold my hand when the plane took off
Two years ago there just seemed so much more
And I don’t know what happened to our love
Today’s the day
. . .
I just got scared.
It happened a few hours ago.
It hit me.
Today was my first day without Wellbutrin.
Shit. What have I done? Oh my God, what have I done?
I feel like I broke up with a boyfriend in a rage and then just realized that I still love him, kind of.
It’s so much easier for me to say “I’m bipolar” when I’m stable.
It’s so much easier for me to say “I’m going off my meds” when I’m stable.
It’s so much easier for me to say “I’m good” when it’s the truth.
Honestly, I’m not good.
Husband’s been out of town for a few days and I haven’t called him on purpose. He hasn’t had a break since we had Baby and I didn’t want him to hear the sadness in my voice. He’s been through enough with my bipolar disorder already – more than enough.
I called him today and he heard it. I can’t hide anything from him – especially when I want to.
“You don’t sound good.”
Dammit. He knows.
. . .
Does this sadness have anything to do with the Wellbutrin? I don’t think so.
I was cleaning out my closet tonight and tossed the doll my therapist gave me a few years ago into the charity pile. It was part of my childhood work. I wasn’t allowed to have dolls when I was a girl and I was working through my issues.
Actually, I braided her hair once and then put her on a shelf in the closet. I hate that doll. I’ve hated that doll ever since I got it. The doll I wanted as a little girl was the one with the squishy body that was actually like a baby.
The one she gave me was the kind on a stand that’s all pretty and perfect. The kind creepy women who quilt keep on bookshelves.
Does this sadness have to do with that f*cking doll? I don’t think so.
. . .
I did so great on the trip that I thought I was invincible Not a few hours back home, I came down with a little cold just big enough to throw my sleep and workout schedule out the window, and just when two out of my magical three were screwed, I ate some cookies.
We bipolar people need structure and schedules. I thrive in structure – which has been a bit of a battle since I’m an “artist” and am expected to be the opposite, but I’ve come to terms with being both. After all, I’m bipolar – I should be good at being two things.
It’s just how I’m built.
. . .
I got an email tonight from an old, old friend that really touched me. She’s been reading this blog for a while and has never commented, but she wanted me to know that she’s been reading and how brave she thinks I am.
I am brave.
I just don’t feel brave today, but in a weird way, I feel braver today than I have in a long time.
Because I feel the fear today and I’m standing in my decision. I’m not stubborn – if I can’t get off of all my meds, I won’t be foolish or bullheaded. I am hopeful that I can do this on the natch, but if I can’t, so be it. I can only do the footwork. The results are none of my business today.
. . .
So I listened to several different versions of this song tonight – one of my favorite Sinead songs, she means so much to me for so many reasons – and I really felt this version.
There’s a sadness, an acceptance and a tinge of anger in her voice in this performance. I think it’s also cute that she has hair and it looks like she has a hospital bracelet on – but I realized it says “artist” so it was probably from the venue.
I ran with that one for a hot minute, let me tell you.
In a few versions, she’s full of rage, but I just don’t feel that tonight. I’m letting go of this pink pill that helped me get out of bed every morning for the past 5 years with a little bit of sadness, a whole bunch of gratitude and a little bit of anger for leaving me before I left it.
Yes, it’s a pill and perhaps an entire blog post dedicated to saying goodbye to a pill is dumb, but it’s how I feel tonight.
. . .
Husband’s final advice before we hung up was to watch something light tonight before bed and to meditate. I realized that I’ve been slacking on my meditation big time.
So I’ve got “No Strings Attached” all ready to go on Netflix – it doesn’t get much lighter than Ashton Kutcher – and then I’m going to do my sound meditation and go to bed.
Thank you for being little lights on my path, readers, I hope you know how much you mean to me.
The girl who no longer takes Wellbutrin, at least for today