Pieces

I don’t know how to feel “okay” anymore. Most of the time I am depressed and with that comes a lethargy, something that drains the life out of me. I find that I am not at all motivated. For instance, it takes a lot of effort to get up and cook.

Writing – for my book – is all but an empty promise to my self. It’s a three-pronged hook. 1) My memory can’t seem to find the connections to that vocabulary I used to have; 2) The creativity to come up with new scenes and dialogue is missing; and, 3) It’s all just a lot of work to get started on the projects. I have short stories that need to be fleshed out. I have poetry that needs to be revised. And I have details that need to be addressed regarding the book’s layout, format, font style, acknowledgments, indices, etc. Each step is a major struggle and I have talked my self out of it. I need a major turning around of my beliefs to get in there and fight it out.

It helps to peruse the blogs on WordPress and read how others are doing – what challenges they are overcoming, what beauty they see in life. I am almost jealous of the youth, for their worlds are ever ready, sitting out before them like blossoms in the morning dew just waiting for the sun to rise. I guess I miss that. That adventure and that is why I write. To regain that abandon, that wild and carefree existence.

Each of us has a voice. It can either be heard through painting, or cooking, or letter-writing, or restoring vintage automobiles, or nursing, or making scrapbooks. My voice is poetry – or “was” poetry. Something happened. Something stole my gift away from me. Try as I might, I cannot simply sit down and put pencil to paper and come up with the flashes of brilliance that marked my past. No longer can I turn a phrase as effortlessly as I used to. I have to work for it now. Even as I type this I take pause, regularly, to find the right words – and they just don’t come!

The medications I’m on boast a high success rate. But they should boast a high cost rate as well. The side effects are damning. But if I don’t take these meds I may end up in jail. You see, I’ve had the cops called on me because of my anger. I cannot set foot on Bank of America’s property because I had an exchange of words with the bank manager. And he called the cops. And, he called my employer. I am also blacklisted from working with that company anywhere in the U. S. And that wasn’t even the bad situation. I had the cops called on me at the Mental Health facility in our town and that just didn’t make sense to me. If I was having a mental breakdown you would think that that would be the place to get help. And looking back, that situation was really out of control. I don’t know how I managed to not go to jail that day. So, yeah, the meds keep me stable. But they also have robbed me of my life. The side effects are crazy.

First, I started having to pee frequently, like ten times a day. Then I started having the shakes. Soon I noticed I was gaining weight (30 pounds in two months). Before long I was not able to go to the gym and workout with weights anymore – I can’t even bench press 40 pounds! I can’t do one push-up. And that is not all, I am extremely thirsty, so much so that I take two bottles of water with me everywhere I go. I drink 3 gallons of liquids every day. Sometimes more. And then there is the cognitive confusion and mental degradation that I am experiencing. My short-term memory is shot: I have to make lists for everything; when I comment on other people’s blogs I continuously have to go back and reread their post so that I can properly comment. And my ability to come up with creative fodder is so damaged that it makes me want to cry. All this and more, because I have to take these meds. There is no going around it.

I recently went to go see my mom. My son and I stayed with her for two weeks and during that time I had a couple of blow-outs with her. I need my meds adjusted again. I can’t have my self getting out of control again. It’s just not worth it.

So today I am writing this in hopes that it will spawn some motivation. Motivation to get on that darned book and work on a few things. I used to be able to turn a phrase. I’d be happy now to just to be able to write enough to turn the page. LOL

Bipolar is a beeoottch and it is cruel. Thank God we’re not all this way. Thank goodness we are as different and varied as the blossoms and the wildlife. Each with our own talents and challenges. Thank you for taking the time to stop by and read this. I hope you stop by again and read some of my fiction or my poetry. I promise they are upbeat and full of good things. Not dark, dreary things like depression. Okay, there are a couple of poems that are dark. But hey, variety, right?!

Peace

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4 thoughts on “Pieces

  1. Keep writing. Do not try to produce perfection. Don’t even try to produce volumes. Just sentences.

    Meds can make one dull, but only stay that way if you let go.

    Youth is wonderful except it’s wasted on the young. I often wished I could go back. Yanno what though? You have experience and wisdom. Your experiences have given you grit for your next endeavor. Just put sentences on a page…not colorful ones. Only sentences that have words. 🙂

    My ex and my son suffer from mental disorders, and I watched how it made them view themselves. Even with the meds. It is hard to watch. I will say this though, like them, you keep trying. Don’t stop.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Chick. I will try to hear your words as I contemplate writing. Just words. Sounds simple enough. And, the daunting task must be broken down to one sentence at a time. Thanks for sharing and giving me hope. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow, this is another very interesting blog, Eric. There are some similarities with my challenges too regarding the loss of the ability to articulate in a way that I used to when writing stories and poems. The loss of short-term memory – the damage and confusion that causes. I forgot how to navigate the alphabet and cannot get by without a spellchecker, as I have forgotten how to spell even the most straightforward of words.

    It sounds like you might be putting yourself under pressure over all the tasks to be completed for your book. How about just pick one – the one you will enjoy the most and just forget about anything else that needs to be done. They will happen when they happen. I write children’s short stories too, but have dried up and talked myself out of writing more because I doubt myself, so I think I understand what you might be feeling. As the other commenter says, just write! I think I will too!

    Do you take Seroquel/Quetiapine by any chance? Those were the side effects I endured when taking it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you Shirley. I think these memory/cognition side effects are common to many if not all antipsychotics and lithium. No, I am not taking Seroquel anymore. I took that for about three months and it really messed with me so I went back on the carousel to find another drug that would not affect me to harshly. In the end I took 11 different meds until I landed on Geodon/Ziprasidone. The side effects are not as severe but still quite bothersome. That, coupled with the lithium and I am in side effect hell.

      It’s cool that you also are a writer and that you have experienced the same challenges as I. It’s not cool that you experienced them, but it’s cool that you can relate to what I’m going through. Maybe we can help each other through this process. You have already helped me tremendously. I will try and stay on task, and just pick one task to do instead of looking at all the projects involved with writing the book. Right now I am focused on the research aspect. There is so much to learn about my story! I have just so happened to pick a time and a place that actually happened in history and it is now propelling my story into the “historical fiction” genre. It is so exciting I can’t stand it. And it kinda helps me write the story. Instead of having to fabricate the whole thing out of thin air, I have real to life reference points that I can infuse into my story. And with all that I can understand now why it takes some people years and years to write a book. There is so much to learn along the way.

      Thank you Shirley; for looking after me and reading my blogs. It means so much that you share my foibles. Peace girl. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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