The recovery process

I feel like I start most of my blog posts these days with: “I know I haven’t blogged in a while, but…” and this post is no different.
I know I haven’t blogged in a while, but I haven’t had much to say. If you read this blog you’ll know that I had a mixed episode as part of my bipolar disorder about 18 months ago (mixed is when a manic episode and a depressed episode are occurring at the same  time) because I documented it very diligently on this blog. My madness was spread all over my posts and scrawled into notebooks, I was insane, staying awake for days on end, not eating, endeavouring into the world of pro-domming (working as a dominatrix) and thinking sporadically of how I would theoretically end my life. The reason I write this post  today is that I finally feel like I might be coming into recovery, after all this time. After the mixed episode ended I was left with lingering depression, a creeping feeling of worthlessness that never went away, even on my good days. I still have trouble leaving my small town because of crippling agoraphobia – which doesn’t always mean not being able to leave the house. I can leave the house, but I can’t get on a train or a bus and I have difficulty getting into a car, because it brings me out in anxiety attacks. Recovery is an extremely long process and my fear is that the period of recovery is just the next step to another episode. My manic or mixed episodes normally last up to a few months and occur about once every 18 months to 2 years, so the fear that one is just around the corner starts getting more intense the closer I get. However, the day before yesterday I saw my psychiatrist and he’s put me back on Prozac. I’m already on olanzapine and Depakote, so hopefully the latter two drugs will act as a buffer for any Prozac-induced mania. I hope the Prozac brings me back to who I was before I had my mixed episode: slightly eccentric, playful, confident, fun and funny. I also hope dearly that it brings my poetry back to me. Today is the first day I’ve actually felt positive about my recovery. I really feel like it could happen, and I may be able to live a life without massive ups and downs. I know this is a very optimistic thing for a bipolar person to say but I feel like maybe the worst is over. I will still have ups and downs but maybe they won’t destroy everything in their path any more, and maybe they’re more treatable than I first thought. Who knows. All I know is I’m starting to feel happy about my future, i.e that I might actually have one.

That’s all for now, folks. Hopefully, soon, I’ll update with a little poetry.


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