This is the handful of pills I take daily now. Yeah, some are gummies and look like candy; they are vitamins. Today I took six extra pills. Ibuprofen for pain. I frequently take pain killers (because my pancreas is eating itself), but today I made a huge mistake and was in hospital quality pain again.
Einstein said doing the same thing and expecting different result is crazy. I of course hear this ad nauseam from ... well, everyone. And everyone that says it thinks they are being tremendously clever by recalling the addage. But the troublesome thing is, it doesn't feel like the same thing.
At any rate, today...
Einstein said doing the same thing and expecting different result is crazy. I of course hear this ad nauseam from ... well, everyone. And everyone that says it thinks they are being tremendously clever by recalling the adage. But the troublesome thing is, it doesn't feel like the same thing.
My exploration of mental wellness and physical health collided hard and I thought juggling both a physical and mental illness in a chronic state was enough of a challenge. But understanding that the medications approved by the FDA and proven to work for bipolar disorder cause damage to the pancreas. Having had a few bouts with acute pancreatitis and feeling the daily effects chronic pancreatitis, is enough for me to decline the help those meds offer. I reason, if my brain is well and my body turns to shit, what's the point?
Well, this week has been hard. I'm gonna say since last Thursday I've had some rough days emotionally. Sinking. It seems with the current bipolar treatment, the cycle of depression is lasting longer. And that could be a means to an end as historically, it's been hypermanic episodes lasting for weeks and then a crash into depression for a couple days. The depression never lasted more than a week before. However, having said that, suicidal thoughts (and if I'm honest, plans) presented themselves sometime in May and haven't really gone; and, that was before this new round of treatment. In fact, that precipitated this round with the good doctor.
At any rate, today I ate a piece of chicken. My pain had been manageable is present at all. The pain experiences physically in the past two weeks has been calmed with ibuprofen and the rainbow of urine color has not lasted long in comparison to the past.
I hate hearing that. At least you don't look sick. Your sister's dead; at least you have other siblings. Your son is in a submarine; at least you have the girls for Sunday dinner. You're hallucinating; at least you know they're not real. You're physically and mentally breaking down; at least you're still standing and hiding it well.
Today I would have given anything to hear those words. At least... Someone I see almost daily approached me after two hours of crying in excruciating pain and said, 'You look like you...[pause] What is wrong with you?'
I'm embarrassed that my body doesn't work like others. I'm embarrassed that my brain doesn't work like others. I sat crying and wincing and whimpering with my eyes pressed tight hoping I could muster up the strength to walk to the bathroom and try vomiting out the offensive food.
I didn't do the same thing expecting a different result. I have been eating moderately with a mindfulness of the nutrients I was putting into my body. I have been careful with feeding the cravings and have been vocal in using the words, 'no thank you.'
So, i'm trying to reason out all the inconsistencies. I'm not trying to do something different. I'm actually trying to do something the same. And there is still a piece of me that doesn't know why.