So I don’t really have a problem with meds. When I was diagnosed my reaction was “Oh, thank God!” And I embraced the fact that I would need to take meds for the rest of my life.
My cocktail of meds has included as many as 9 or 10 meds at a time. I’ve experienced rare and extreme reactions to one med after being on it for many years with no side effects. So extreme that we considered putting me on chemo drugs to control the reactions until we decided to take me off the bipolar med.
While I’ll admit to not being strictly med compliant (it’s hard when you’re struggling alone at 20), I never went off my meds thinking I didn’t need them. I’ve always had a good relationship with them.
Until now. I have to admit that I’m embarrassed that Haldol works so very well for me.
It totally knocks out my manic phase. It shortens the duration, knocks out the worst of the symptoms, and in such a short time I’m level. Which is a fucking miracle, since I’ve never had that before in my memory.
A yet, even with this miracle it works upon me, I’m embarrassed to be taking it.
It’s a powerful typical antipsychotic. It’s pretty old school and it’s 50 times more powerful than Thorazine. Crazy.
Which is what I think the problem is. I’ve managed to keep myself out of the hospital. But this drug is so powerful. It’s used for acute psychosis, acute mania. I think the Haldol in a way proves how crazy I really am. 10 years after a diagnosis, years of being mostly med compliant, therapy, psychiatrists, support groups, but this drug proves that I’m crazy, cuckoo, off-my rocker. I guess we all want to fool ourselves in some way. We all want to be better, be well.
Ironically, the drug that I believe (remember, not all beliefs are true) proves I’m ill, is the drug that keeps me well.
