Journal – Nov 30, 2019

Not doing so well today. Actually I haven’t been doing so well. Depression has been a near constant companion and when it’s not depression it’s full blown manic along with spells of psychosis. I can’t go on like this. At first I thought the pdoc upping my risperidal to max solved the issues. I felt better, looked better, acted and sounded better. But over time it has all come back. I think perhaps I am becoming immune to the risperidal. God help me if I am. That’s been my miracle drug for so long that I don’t know what I’ll do if I am becoming immune to it.

Along with the depression and mania come the ever present headaches and shakes and stomach knots. These may be side effects of the drugs I’m on. I dunno but I do know that I don’t sleep well even with the trazadone. I wake up at all hours of the night, usually with a headache, and have difficulty getting back to sleep. Sometimes I can sleep the headache off. Sometimes some pain pills help. Sometimes coffee does the trick. Nothing works consistently. Sometimes nothing works at all. Of course drinking a half pot of coffee at 3 AM is not conducive to more sleep. It’s one big circle of deprived sleep. And I think the sleep deprivation feeds the depression/mania. Hell I can barely sleep when I’m manic as is. Then come the crash into deepest, darkest depression. And always the tears. I hate those tears.

I know one thing for certain. I cannot go on like this even if it means I have to die. Hell almost no one would miss me anyway besides my kids and grandkids. They’re resilient. They will get over it soon enough. I’d become just a memory and soon enough not even that. I’d like to live to see my great grands when they come but I don’t think I will make it.

Poor Domani has inherited this, through his mother, from me. The gift that keeps on giving. He suffers from depression and mania. He goes weeks without coming out of his room. Sometimes days without getting out of bed. I wish I could tell him that I understand and I know how hard it is but, like my wife says, I think he needs to come to that realization on his own. God knows I never truly believed anyone understood. In fact I still doubt it. Poor kid. 16 and going through hell, alone. My heart breaks for him. Just as it breaks for his mother who also inherited it. But she only inherited the depression, not the BP. She is chronically depressed and meds don’t seem to help her either.

Still missing my wife. Of I see her for about 5 minutes every day but it’s not the same. I want to spend time with her but apparently she doesn’t want to spend time with me. That also feeds the depression. Seems like everything feeds the depression. No wonder the depression goes so deep. No wonder I mostly suffer from depression. I’m type II manic depressive anyway which is mostly depressive. Everyone thinks type I is the hardest but not from where I stand. I welcome a good bout of mania. Being on top of the world. Knowing the entire world lies beneath your feet. Knowing it all belongs to you and you are master of all you survey. Being full of energy and happy and up. Most of all being up. Even with the accompanying lack of sleep it is still the best feeling in the world. Now if only the psychosis would stay away.

Well be good world. Stay strong. Always face the world with a smile. Never refuse a hug. Try for one good laugh per day at least. There is real magic in smiles and hugs and laughter.

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