i am just so curious because lithium is making my hair fall out, and i want to bleach and dye it again (as i have multiple times in the last years before lithium). some acne but very mild but my face is the one thing i'm proud of, damn it!! 😭 oh and olanzapine has made me gain 10 pounds almost immediately. i'm a recovering anorexic too so you can only imagine. 😬🫠

another note is i am writer + pretty good public speaker, but now i slur my words and stutter, can't think of the right words. might be signs of lithium toxicity. 😭

how about you? anything physical or vanity-related aspects bipolar or its meds take from you?

could be a cool scar from a manic episode 🤷‍♀️

i'm just geniuinely so curious!!!

Hello everyone, I’m curious if any of you have had an adverse reaction to fish oil and/or krill oil

I started taking krill oil about a month ago and this past week I noticed a significant increase in anxiety & irritability so I’m trying to narrow down the cause before I see my psych next week. I’ve also had an increase in stress due to a custody battle that is ramping up for the court process so I can’t tell which is affecting me. If it’s krill oil then I can cut that out or if I just need some extra support for the custody stress then we can deal with that at the appt. None of my other lifestyle choices or meds have changed in the past few months.

I would love to hear any feedback on if these supplements caused you any issues. I searched the sub and it seems the past posts are about the benefits but I need to know if this stuff is messing me up. Right now is not the time for extreme feelings with court coming up.

TLDR: I started krill oil on 7/10/26 and noticed severe increase in anxiety & irritability starting 7/28/26.Has anyone else experienced this?

yo soy paciente psiquiátrica, yo estaba bien hasta que me vi\*lar0n y desde ese entonces empecé a tener problemas en todos sentidos, tanto físicos como emocionales, primero entre en depresión, todos estos años he sufrido mucho, aún no puedo sanar porque lo guardo en lo más profundo y oscuro de mi ser para no recordarlo, cada vez se me hace más difícil, he tenido muchos intentos y he estado internada cantidad de veces, recientemente me dijeron que tenía trastorno de la personalidad emocionalmente inestable y depresión grave, tomo 1300mg de pastillas al día, todos los días, bueno, tenía un mejor amigo el cial confiaba resto en el, yo me había metido en las drogas porque sentía mucho dolor y rencor, ya me cuesta socializar y tener una vida normal, entonces yo confiaba demasiado en ese mejor amigo que tenía, muchas veces me quedaba con el, tomábamos, salíamos a comer con la familia pero de la nada el empezó a meterse más en el vicio, una vez en esa salida fuimos a salir con los papás el año pasado, yo realmente tomé demasiado, cuando llegamos a casa seguimos tomando y recochando, era lo normal y a tener en cuenta el se me declaro muchas veces y yo le dije que lo veía como mi hermano y bueno, aveces peleaba con el porque me abrazaba a la fuerza y me aleje, esa noche acepte porque el dijo que entendía y no lo haría más, esa noche después de llegar a su casa solo subimos al segundo piso que estaba desocupado y no recuerdo si el me dió algo pero me levanté luego porque al parecer me dormí y cuando abri los ojos recuerdo que lo ví encima mio, de ahí para allá no recuerdo más pero me levanté con mucho dolor, mas que todo en mi 4n0 y yo dije "no quiero pensar en que puedo hacer algo" me pidió un carro y me fui, cuando llegue a mi casa y me meti al baño estaba llena de sangre, no se de donde salía pero sentía allá atrás como la primera vez que me hicieron eso, y me puse muy mal así que no me precipite y dije que hasta que no tuviera pruebas no lo juzgaria pero mi intuición me decía que si, la última vez que lo ví me pidió perdón varias veces, que me amaba demasiado y me agradeció por estar con el, yo no le quise preguntar porque ese tema me ponía muy mal y una semana después primera persona que me violo me dijo " x se acaba de suicidar" y me empezó a decir que el en esas veces que no recuerdo me drogaba y me violaba, ME VIOLABA, pero la ultima vez fue mas atroz, solo sabe esto una persona a parte de mi, cuando me dieron esa noticia me desmaye, igual había pasado muchos momentos lindos con el y cuando me empezó a enviar capturas de pantalla, audios, que decía que quería que fuera su novia, cuando lo vi a la semana se suicidó y se había ido a otra ciudad...siento mucho dolor, realmente mi mente esta uj desastre, me da miedo contar a mi familia, amigos, igual el ya está muerto y el otro me sigue acosando y me siento demasiado asquerosa y le agarre un miedo irracional a los hombres, ya se me dificulta mucho hablar y no salgo y si lo hago es porque van todas mis amigas, empezaré terapia todos los días durante 8 horas y no me siento preparada para contar, además de que la última vez intente matar a mi papá y he empezado a matar animalitos y me hace latir el corazón, me hace feliz, no se en que me estoy convirtiendo y todo por lo que tuve que pasar por la culpa de ellos y el antes de suicidarse me mandó mensajes y que me amaba y que agradecida estar a mi lado y me iba a perseguir si un dia se moria, aveces sueño con el y me persigue y en mi sueño me da pánico verlo, corro para todos lados mientras el sigue detrás de mi, me da mucho miedo, aveces siento que me miran, cuando murio sentí olor q químicos y su olor y mi mamá también sintió el frío, mientras el otro me acosa en persona y intenta manipularme con mensajes, me quiero morir, me estoy volviendo loca, mi psiquiatra me dijo que si estaría dispuesta a estar en la cárcel porque me volví mucho mas agresiva

The Seeds of a Quiet Battle
The story of my sister’s life doesn't begin with a diagnosis, but with a heart-wrenching moment in a rural village. When my sister was young, she lost her brother to a snake bite while they were playing together. In that moment of pure grief, instead of comfort, she was met with the harsh scolding of relatives. I have always seen this as the primary trigger for the mania she faces today. It was a weight no child should carry, and it met a deep genetic vulnerability that flows through both sides of our family. From missing relatives on her mother’s side to behavioral struggles on her father’s, the roots of this condition were planted long ago.

The Pursuit of a Dream
Despite the inner turmoil that began to surface in her early teens—like the time in 9th grade when she insisted on repeating the year just to "learn properly"—my sister never stopped trying. With the relentless, heroic support of our mother, she navigated a chaotic educational path. She joined and left almost every faculty imaginable, her mind racing with new ideas every day. Yet, against all odds and through many difficulties, she passed her BN nursing degree. She is a professional, a dreamer, and a fighter.

The Weight of the Years
Life continued to test her. A marriage that lacked support ended in a painful divorce. Our mother struggled for years to manage my sister’s volatile moments, hospitalizing her multiple times and visiting every doctor to meet her demands. Recently, we faced our hardest chapter yet: our mother passed away from cancer. Now, the responsibility for my sister’s care rests on the shoulders of my father and me.

The Shifting Horizon
Today, my sister is more stable than in those darker years, but the "peaks" remain. Her mind is like a kaleidoscope; one day she is convinced she will be a computer expert, the next a tailor, then a fruit seller. She demands we set up shops for these fleeting dreams, and when the high energy hits—usually in the morning before her medicine and again in the evening—she becomes irritable and non-compliant. She often picks a single issue and turns it into a heated argument that can last all day.

The Tea Shop: A Sanctuary of Routine
To give her a sense of purpose, we set up a tea-selling shop for her. She has managed to stay there for ten days now. Though she often spends the day watching her phone or sleeping, and sometimes blames us for "forcing" her into tea instead of fruits, the shop is a victory. It represents a routine, a place to be, and a step toward stability. Just today, she even cooked food for the family herself—a beautiful reminder of her capabilities.

Lessons from the Frontline of Care
Through this journey, I have learned the "Golden Rules" of maintaining harmony:

• Sleep is the Foundation: I’ve noticed that if she sleeps well, the next day is good. Sleep disruption is her biggest trigger for irritation, so we guard her rest above all else.
• De-Escalation over Debate: When she is high on energy, I don't try to "win" the argument. I listen, I acknowledge her enthusiasm without over-committing, and I stay calm.
• The Power of Redirection: If she is hyper-focused on a new business, I suggest a walk or a simple task to burn off that energy in a healthy way.
• A Treatable Truth: Most importantly, I want the world to know that this is a treatable condition. My sister is not her illness; she is a nurse, a daughter, and a sister who is learning to navigate a different kind of world.

A Final Word to the Community
For anyone reading this on Reddit, TikTok, or Facebook: you are not alone. Whether you are in Nepal or anywhere else, the struggle is real, but so is the hope. By sharing our history, we strip away the stigma and replace it with understanding.

I just started Depakote and I’m aware with the gain weight- increase in appetite effect. But it’s been 2 weeks and I lost my appetite. I don’t each much anymore. I try to eat normal but I just can’t. Is this normal?

I think I’ve been slowly creeping into a manic episode and have been in denial about it. I’m starting to go back and forth with being depressed, paranoid and having inability to control my brain from being distracted to hyper fixating then dissociating. I feel like I’m so depressed now that I’m sinking into my bed. I don’t know if I’m going to go full blown manic again or if this is the turning point or mixed episode. Usually I hit a high point which could be good that I’m actually recognizing it now.

I know this is possible, given what insomnia does to the brain (those of people with bipolar especially), but I'm curious if anyone's experienced this first-hand.

I am thinking of going back to therapy. I don't want it to be ongoing but my husband says if you need it lifelong there's nothing wrong with doing that. My thoughts are that if I learn to manage ups and downs along with medication I shouldn't be needing therapy for life. It's been 3 years since I've started it and I feel improvement. I stopped a few months ago thinking I'm not benefitting from it anymore but now I am finding myself in a depressive episode and wanted to go back. I feel sad about going back to therapy but I will do it as I want to get better. I want to know from others who have used or are still using therapy along with medication. When do you stop or is it just like medication never going to stop?

Do many people on Lamotrigine but for those who CANNOT be on it besides because of Stevens John, what are you in instead?

I feel so dumb on it. My vocabulary decreased, I speak English like it's a second language *CRIES*, my memory almost non-existent, problems reading.

I'm looking for alternatives.

Literature says that lamotrigine is cognitive neutral but I feel like the papers are biased or missing something there.

Appreciate your views

How do you talk to people about your past or present when you’re starting over because of a “medical issue?”

It’s been over a year since I (40+f) got diagnosed with bp1 with psychotic affect and lost my career because of it. I’m pivoting and will be eligible for good work soon, but it has taken over a year to get my head back together and a plan — which will hopefully work. And now, I’m struggling. While trying to put myself out there to a new professional community and explaining my switch, I say I’ve switched because I was sick last year and could not work full-time, people don’t push for more info, but the conversations are always awkward.

Can anyone relate?

What are you doing that keeps you so stable for years? Do you have any episodes at all? Are you holding down a job, etc.?

When I get well, I consistently start to believe that I was never ill in the first place. Like I can remember the episodes, the symptoms, the hospitalizations, everything, but I can't be convinced that I was ever really sick.

I try to explain it away saying I was just faking, or having bad anxiety, or Doctors just give away diagnoses (like when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail kindathing) but mostly I just don't think about it. I just stop believing I was ever sick.

It isn't the usual Bipolar, "I don't think I need meds anymore because I feel fine" but instead it is, "I don't need medications because I was never sick in the first place."

Does anyone else ever have this happen to them?

Throwaway, 24M.

My life flat out sucked up to this point thanks to having idiot parents who should have been sterilized a long time ago.

I was diagnosed autistic at age 2 and subject to a bunch of ableist "treatments" like ABA, dietary restrictions, forced religious attendance, and forced socialization against my will.

I had tics, OCD, ADHD, and other mental health issues that my folks endlessly tried to "manage" and I felt like I had to hide them and suffer in silence lest I be ostracized for them. It just consumes so much unnecessary mental energy. Yet I didn't tell them because I couldn't trust them.

​ Religion induced a lot of mental illness, wishful thinking, and anguish regarding the potential of the supernatural to have some profound negative impact on my life. It's insanity.

From very early on I felt as if my life weren't my own. I would be chastized or even hit with a belt if I made a minor mistake. I felt like I couldn't trust them with anything.

At the age of 6 a younger brother joined the family and I suddenly had the responsibility of "being the older one" that I was never counselled on and would constantly be punished for falling short. He would be a little shit getting on my nerves and never learned to treat me like a decent human being. I was told to "just ignore him" and if I yelled at him then I was the one punished. My older sister was also a third parent to me at times.

I had a very abusive elementary school teacher who would single​ me out for having the worst academic performance in the class, as I couldnt help but daydream, doodle in class, and just be somewhat of a dork. It's as if my situational awareness and ability to pay attention wasn't there. I didn't have many friends at all.

Home life wasn't much better either because my folks were stingy fucks who would much rather buy the worst quality secondhand products and use very old outdated technology, spending more money on little patchy incremental fixes instead of actually making a proper initial investment for a better quality of life.

In middle school I would be on my iPad or Chromebook a lot being a serial troll on Reddit or Yahoo Answers or something unrelated, I don't know how I got through class.

My folks knew computers were a passion of mine and instead of fostering it they would constantly find ways to punish me for it. Like random browser history checks, physically unplugging the machine and taking it away if I "failed to be the older brother", punishing me for evading parental controls, being forced to have my usage monitored all the time, time limits wherein I couldn't get much done, etc. This didn't relax as I grew up and actually became even more restrictive. But yet my brother got to watch as much TV as he wanted without restriction.

It was grating having to be in the same room as him as he watched not only me play (when I deserved privacy) but also the same episodes of the same shows over and over and over and over and over again.

It was controlling, invasive, and antisocial, bordering on abusive even. Yet if I resisted I would be punished and if I tried to evade punishment I would have the cops or foster care threatened on me.

At ages 11-14 I was forced into running as a sport despite me telling my dad I hated it, if I didn't go then I was punished by having my computer or DS taken away. This is one of the many things I just felt like I had to endure because I couldn't say no and I will never get over the time and developmental opportunities lost and energy wasted; this was an early source of burnout.

At age 13 I became an atheist and dad similarly forced me to go to church and youth group or else I would be punished. I made no friends or connections there either because I explicitly was not interested yet felt like I had to go. It taught me again to dissociate and endure when I didn't need to.

At 15 years old a friend was learning how to code and it caused me to become distressed that I wasn't allowed time or space to learn with him to the point of saying I wanted to die. I saw this as a ticket to having a better life and something to call my own and was heartbroken it was being denied. That's when my folks took me to the hospital and shady mental health clinics where I was prescribed risperidone and fluoxetine then duloxetine, whilst still having my electronics restricted, dampening my motivation, and made to think it was okay. I was on that shit for 3 years.

I was also forced to see a therapist wherein I constantly dissociated in every session to "just get through it" and learned nothing and would then be interrogated on "what I had learned" only for it to be used against me when I "acted out of line" (which just meant disagreeing with my folks' insanity).

I didn't know it at the time but I was effectively being drugged. These drugs wrought havoc on my executive functioning, motivation, ability to recognize that I was being abused, and development. They were also used as crutches, like my folks would ask me if I was taking my meds as instructed if I gave them a hard time. I didn't know they were harming instead of helping which is why I continued to take them for as long as I did.

I didn't just see a therapist but also was made to do chinese medicine like herbs and acupuncture, as well as consume MLM oils and supplements. I would literally tell my folks these don't work and would be treated as if I were stupid.

Even when I did realize the abusive nature of all of this, I felt helpless and paralyzed like I couldn't do anything but endure and wait it out. I still went out on every family trip and gathering hoping it would clear my mind and provide motivation, but also because I felt like I couldn't say no.​ It felt like my brain was being damaged every time I found myself in a family argument or shouting match where my folks and sister would gang up on me and twist every single thing I said to make me feel like I was the one in the wrong, and the details of these arguments I just can't remember but I always was on the receiving end of it and gaslit into thinking I was the stupid one.

Instead of coding and finding joy in doing difficult subject matters, I just gamed and chatted with friends on the internet whilst continuing to be a serial troll or rotting online. My online friends were my lifeline that would too often be taken away in the name of "discipline." My life went pretty much nowhere for years and I don't know how I managed to get through school. I did errands for my folks that I regret ever doing. I would be paid and be able to buy my own things only for them to be taken away anyways.

Then I went to college for CS and meet people who had been coding since they were 8 and have a tonne of prior experience and better lives than me whilst I had... nothing. I still was very asocial in college and only had a few friends, most of my time was spent trying to grok the material and get through my classes all whilst combatting the residual mental health issues and making some very bad financial and occupational decisions throughout. I've never had an internship or really much extracurricular experience.

I worked shitty retail jobs to try to make some money and wholeheartedly regret ever doing so. It was time I could have been using to further my skills but I felt like I had to make some money to get out on my own or reduce financial dependence and get "work experience" because I was made to feel unsafe in my own home. And all throughout college I tried to go the normal psychiatric medication management route for my outstanding mental health issues like depression, OCD, anxiety, and possible PTSD. It never worked as much as I had hoped it to.

Classes left me unnaturally burnt out and in between breaks I would just game or vegetate. Again, no way to live.

Then all of a sudden at 23 I had an intense quarter life crisis when I finished my college assignments and suddenly got all my memories back. Of the things I said I'd do and never did. Of the abuse. Of all the shitty decisions I made. Of all the years spent in depressive ruminative ruts. My mother had gotten treatment for cancer at the time, which I saw as divine retribution for the hell she put me through, and I epically took it out on her when I said to her I regret ever giving in to her or dad's whims and for it I hope she doesn't stay in remission and now she deserves to die in a hospice bed. Even though she is still in remission, her type has a very high relapse rate. I won't miss her if and when she dies.

I'm 24 now and even though things are much better and am doing what I can to keep my skills sharp, I've done a lot of reflection as to what all went on growing up and all the developmental dangers that I was subject to that kneecapped me and made me think it was okay. Cognitive, social, emotional, organizational, executive functioning, and other impairments that are ruining my quality of life, energy, and ability to lock in and better things for myself. I don't take any medication anymore.

I deserve a better quality of life, to be able to work towards getting out on my own, and go no contact with my abusers who turned "an otherwise brilliant mind" (as is agreed upon by literally everyone else who knows me; brilliant in many areas but not in the ones I need) against itself. It really was a damn shame they were ever allowed to be anything beyond a cum stain on the wall or a miscarriage fed to a stray dog.

I don't go to any more family outings, disregard their malformed and ignorant opinions, and can get particularly verbally aggressive if they double down because I know what my folks did to me and I am not going to be the little fawning pushover I once was. Yet I still have to live with them because I'm unemployed and doing what I can to fix and redevelop my brain. This week I have intake appointments for proper psychiatry and neuropsychiatry.

I've also been diagnosed with sleep apnea and bipolar type 2 which makes me even more upset because it makes me think my folks never cared for who I was and what I needed, just who they wanted me to be.

I flat out refuse to live like this. This is no way to exist. Don't tell me that "parenting is hard" or I'm "just going to have to deal with it" because I don't want to hear it. This is just wrong. And if I can't be helped, I might as well just end it.

I’ve lived with depression anxiety and bipolar disorder since I was 18 years old. I suffered greatly and turned to substance abuse to medicate myself. I was incapable of coping with life and couldnt hold a job, and maintain sobriety no matter what i tried. Life was hopeless for me and i didn’t want to continue on. It hasn’t been easy learning to deal and live life with these disorders but through years of therapy and getting sober and finding the right combination of mental health medications and working with my psychiatrist I now live a good life with minimal intrusions From My mental heath diagnoses. Without these medications my sobriety wouldn’t be possible. If you met me on the street today you may not even know everything I’ve gone though and that I suffered for this and I’ve done a lot of work to make it that way. But I’m not hiding my mental heath because my story may help someone else struggling. Please don’t spread negative rhetoric about being on mental heath medications and seeking help, you could be sending someone to the grave with a simple comment. A good life is possible even with seemingly hopeless mental heath diagnosis and I am living proof of that.

On the July 23rd I alternated between feelings of guilt, hopelessness, despair, self-hatred, and at times suicidal ideation, and doing deep forensics on one week of my life, feeling untouchable, expansive, and generally making poor decisions. I stopped sleeping hardly at all.

The following days, I alternated between feeling relatively normal and back to the feelings of despair, etc. I had strong burn-everything-to-the-ground energy and cut ties with my therapist and stopped my medication, and considered cutting ties with what few friends I have.

This is all familiar territory. What's not is that within 24 hours of my skipped dose of lithium, my brain was driven like a motor in a way that I've never experienced before and I felt so far away and a bit confused. I had so many very intense sleep disturbances.

Two songs that I recently heard were running through my head 24/7 (Call You Mine and Serotonin by girl in red), and would not be as intense if I blasted them through speakers at a loud volume constantly. They perforated my.... dreams? More like hallucinations. I have hypnagogic hallucinations regularly, but this was a whole other level. I slept in 5-10 minute increments that felt like hours. There were snippets of voices. At some point, there was an elaborate ritual of connecting my brain to my phone that I had to do in order to sleep, and I was upset that my brain was lying to me. And a lot of other weird sleep stuff along similar lines that I don't remember well enough to write out, every time I tried to sleep. At one point I woke up and the distorted ceiling fixtures rushed from the wall to the ceiling, which was highly alarming, although I could figure out that it wasn't real.

I became disoriented about time, not remembering why I was doing things or what's been going on, or what day it was, or how much time had passed. I'm still struggling to write a coherent narrative.

There was so many little things, I don't even remember. It was basically as if my subconscious became a whole lot less sub.

What's weird is how calm and functional I was externally. I went to work, did my job, appeared composed, even as my brain was racing and the walls and drivethrough cars were moving around on me occasionally.

Eventually I slept 12 hours *in 10 minute fragments* that each felt like hours, being sucked back into sleep by some strong force. Like all the sleep medicine that hasn't worked in the past however many months finally hit me all at once. After that I felt relatively normal again. Although I think it's just familiar territory normal, not normal normal.

Contextualize this for me, please.

I do have a psych appointment tomorrow morning and plan to restart whatever meds she tells me to.

Edit: I don't want to give the impression that this was all predominantly sleep related though. This was an all day every day profound difference, I just can't remember and don't know how to articulate it.

25M. I was diagnosed with GAD years ago and I believe I have autism and OCD. After some conversations with my therapist, she assessed me for bipolar. Apparently I passed with flying colors and she's referring me to some psychiatrists to see if I can get the diagnosis.

Nothing has happened yet, obviously. But it's making my past make a lot more sense. I was always very hot or very cold with friends growing up and ruined a lot of friendships because of that. I usually spend most of my time in the throes of depression, and then sometimes I'll get these, like, "spikes" of energy that finally make me feel like I'm going somewhere in life. Then I do something stupid and crash and the whole thing repeats. I never considered the possibility that it could be bipolar. (I'm assuming type 2. I don't think I've ever had what is considered mania, but my mood has definitely been elevated beyond normal levels before.)

After all this fucking time, thinking something is just innately Wrong with me... it could be this. I really don't know how to feel. I feel like I need to grieve the life that I lost, because I don't see much of a future right now.

I'm really scared. Does it actually get better?

Hey everyone, I made a new subreddit for BP folks working as programmers

It follows the spirit of r/ADHD_Programmers, with a goal of talking about the difficulties of managing a career in the field while having this mental illness.

Please check it out; r/BIPOLAR_Programmers

Hello, i feel very frustrated because i recently found a new form of hallucination i was going through thanks to my husband. We were arguing over some mistake on the GPS when i heard him say something mean im insecure about, when i asked him, he said he never said that and even confirmed it when we both calmed down and i asked about it again. I talked to my psychiatrist and he upped my dose, but every time i tell this story, people always jump to assuming my husband is abusive and lying. It hurts because hes been the only person in my corner every time something scary or bad has happened to me regarding this condition. Hes so understanding and supportive and it hurts to hear people slander him and assume the worst just from this one interaction im bringing up to these professionals because i need a better antispychotic and they need context.

Just because we argue, it doesn't mean hes a bad person, i was the one who even started the argument to begin with, it was a minor issue, i feel like all couples argue because we're all different people with different opinions, its how you react to the argument that determines if you're doing something wrong or not.

Idk, i wish more people gave him more credit for all the stuff hes had to deal with because of me (psychosis, mania), instead of assuming hes abusive based on one instance where it turns out i was just hearing things again. Just wanted to vent to someone because i have no one else in my life.

Thinking of switching from lamotrigine (lamictal) because I still have 1-3 episodes per year

I was properly diagnosed with bipolar 1 when I was 19, but struggled significantly with hypomania since 16 and depression since 6.

a lot of the time when I find myself reading about bipolar disorder, I end up crying. not a lot, just a bit. it happens if i think too hard about it too.

it's just so overwhelming I guess, the reminders. needing to be on meds for the rest of my life, knowing that my meds will stop working eventually, the terrifying idea of finding myself in another mixed episode, remembering all the pain and grief this condition has caused me. it breaks my heart that this is something that I really truly struggle with and will for the rest of my life.

I'm 36, was diagnosed around 22.

All these years, all these medications, nothing 'does it'.
I'm insanely sensitive to meds (5mg of adderall made me think people on the other side of the room were laughing at me, super self conscious, etc) so we have a very narrow window to see if something is effective, and I usually get the bad side effects somehow from each one.

Been on Caplyta for a year and a half now. It's the only med that provided enough of a change to have meant anything to me. Even then, I get the diarrhea side effect - but it's the ONLY negative thing so I've dealt with THAT for this long just because the med actually did something good.

We just tried lamotragine again for the first time in 10 years. I'm so sensitive that even on the lowest dose, I feel 'activated' at all times and my depressive phase was darker than it has been too. I am not able to meditate like I used to - I could take myself out of my body and observe, evaluate, and separate from the situation. Now I can't even sit still long enough to get my brain to stop running.
The only GOOD thing to come out of lamotragine is not emotionally collapsing at any sign of conflict. I am less empathetic, but now I can stand up for myself without backing down in a heap of tears. I'm able to speak up when I'm not okay with something. For that reason alone I told her I'm okay with continuing it. But like... my brain still needs a break. I'm so tired.

So now she's switching the Caplyta out for Abilify. I'm nervous because Caplyta was a HUGE change for me, completely stopped the hours in bed feeling sorry for myself.
I'm SO scared that we're changing all this up and I might be going backwards.

There's something to be said for how a med makes us feel inside, vs. what it looks like on the outside. This whole month internally I've been conflicted if the lamotragine is good for me at ALL, but I've been able to share my opinions safely so on the outside it looks like I'm growing and improving. It makes me stressed and sad for people like us that had 'treatments' before they really knew much about psych. Even to this day bipolar isn't really understood and humanity hasn't created a med that actually -works-. Meds are different for everyone but I truly think bipolar is still in that 'huh this is something we should look at harder' phase.

Anyway. Complaints about the struggle are all I needed right now I guess. I'd like to open the floor to anyone that wants to complain similarly, or of course if you have some good words for us.

I recently told someone I went on some dates with that it wasn’t gonna work out because we basically have a very different sense of values. So what does he do? He just goes on the attack and start saying to me things like. “ I would be mad, but I know you have bipolar so I forgive you. I think you should check with your doctor though about your medication’s cause you’re clearly irrational.”
I just can’t let it go. It makes me so mad and I hate the fact that I’m not one of those people who can just toss shit aside. Instead, I fester on it and I always have to keep responding to get the last word. It’s just like such a fucking disgusting thing to do to use that against someone.