I Feel Violent, Like I'm Dying

Bipolar disorder isn't always about mania and/or depression. It certainly is sometimes, but for me, a lot of the time it's about anger.

Bipolar comes with an unhealthy dose of irritability. Sometimes I don't want to be touched, or have any form of human contact. When it's bad enough, I can't stand the feel of my clothes brushing against my skin, or my hair tickling my shoulders. These things agitate me, make me frustrated.

Other things make me incredibly angry. I have the shortest of short fuses. Driving is unbearable. Anyone who meets me with any resistance will likely get yelled at.

Ah, the airport. A surefire way to make me Hulk out.

I've had this agitation since I was ten, I remember. I would yank my hair back off my forehead with a tight fist, irritated by it getting in my eyes. I even saw a therapist for one session when I was 24 because I hated my rage-fueled explosions, but I determined I couldn't get any help there. That was back before I realized how vital therapy was. Before I knew I was saddled with a mental illness for the rest of my life.

The feeling of this anger is so uncomfortable, overwhelming, and embarrassing. I try my very best to keep it under control. When I was a teenager, I used to punch walls. I'd punch the roof of my car.

I punched a mirror once and broke it into my knuckles. I still have the scar.

With the right meds, the boiling hatred of everything mostly subsides.

I haven't been on the right meds.

I had been taking 900mg of lithium - a fairly average dose - before I did my bike ride across Iowa. We dropped it down to 600mg during the ride to prevent dehydration. Between quitting my job, starting school, realizing I needed to go a different direction with school, dropping classes, not having much to do, feeling worthless, etc, I was getting more agitated, and way more depressed.

Really depressed. Crazy dark thoughts that I'm honestly not ready to share with the world yet depressed.

So today I went and saw my psychiatrist.

A very familiar waiting room

The good news is this is nothing out of the ordinary for someone with bipolar. We tweaked my meds and added three new supplements. I'm glad to have the ability to get the medical care I need, have solutions in the form of several handfuls of pills.

But it's also unfair to have to fight this demon all the time, to know that the rest of my life will be about finding the balance of what I'm taking, choking down endless tablets and capsules.

My current array of daily medications

I can't imagine what it's like to be healthy. I've been battling serious allergies since I was 4 years old, and I've only added to my chronic illness list since then. I'm only 36 now, who knows how many other things I might have to struggle against? I keep trying to tell myself to be grateful to be able to afford treatment, to have access to it, that others have it worse, at least I'm fairly regulated and able to make it through the day most of the time.

But still, it's a bitter pill to swallow.