New Diagnosis, New View?
I finally have been through enough therapy with my present counselor that this week we got into something new. That my new meds have revealed more of what's really me, and not so much of me with drugs. And with me being me, we can truly know what's wrong and actually account for all the symptoms, rather than just having things be inexplicable, which I don't like.
In short, my new diagnosis: Bipolar Disorder, Type I with Mixed Episodes. Which means that I get energy, and I get cranky, but I don't reach super sad, seriously bad lows.
The good news: It explains a lot that wasn't ever explained before. And my new meds leave me to be more creative, and I don't feel like something is wrong as much as I did before. And I'm not feeling like I'm constantly on a roller coaster because my meds treat the ups and the downs and keep me on an even keel. Best of all, my beads fall across the board into better, more interesting designs. My scrapbooking/card making days are more fruitful. My P/C writing is still not there yet, but I suspect it will come as I relax more, and get used to things. Perhaps it will feel less inhibited like my other outlets do.
The bad news: I'm a little more distracted, which is okay. But I'm also a lot more hormonal, which is not okay. It makes me rant and say strong words. I've learned that you can't always speak your mind; I wouldn't say them otherwise. I'd be more controlled about how I am me. My other problem is what I see as 'fatigue'. My therapist reminds me that I am just going as fast as everyone else. I don't have the manic energy I did before, so I feel slower inside, but outside, I'm just keeping pace. Which is true, but it doesn't mean I can't miss it and wish I could have the energy again.
The problem is the energy is usually followed by the icky. The lethargic, super tired, cranky-ranty-downright-mean CP that CP doesn't like to be. So I have to teach myself that it's okay, and it's worth it to have my creativity all the time, even if I have less energy to do things with it.
I'm also learning that my family-of-origin did me another huge favor by not teaching me the skills everyone else learns about organizing things, and generally getting one's shit together. Which does explain a lot about why they are why they are, but it makes me feel frustrated because I know I can do better, because at some point, I feel like I all ready have, and I want to get back there. I just have to wait until next week's therapy session to learn the tools to do so, and darn it, I want it, and I want it now! Maybe even 10 minutes ago! Or a month! * Recognizes the ranting again...sighs and breathes deeply *
And there we have it. The heart of the problems have a name. And they are accounted for, finally. And it's not as scary as I thought it would be, even with such a strong diagnosis. Perhaps because I suspected something like it for a while. Perhaps because I am more relieved that I can understand it and manage it. But most of all, I feel at peace with it.