tw: suicide
I’m finally on lithium. It’s such a weird thing to be able to say. I had it hyped up in my mind for so long that it would be the worst drug in the world. And don’t get me wrong, I’m 8 days in and there’s been some definite frustrations.
My mouth is always dry and I need to remember to drink water constantly. As someone who never drinks enough water, this is a challenge.
For the first few days I was nauseous right after taking it.
I’m SO itchy. The kind of itchy that keeps you awake at night. I have a rash on my neck that makes me want to claw away my skin.
There was one that was NOT fun, but won’t get into details about— thankfully it didn’t last long.
On top of that, I’m keeping a close watch on my body. Dealing with internalized fat-phobia every step of the way. I keep reminding myself that I never look at fat people and think they are ugly or unattractive. In fact, I’ve felt jealous of many for being so beautiful. But as someone who has struggled with body image issues my entire life, I’m still working on believing the things I think about everyone else when it comes to my body. (I’m very worried this is all offensive to say, and if it is, please call me out on it.)
It was a long road getting here. A winding road that led to me feeling the sickest I’ve ever been in my life. I used to say that I was likely my sickest before I was diagnosed. However, 2021 took that theory and flung it out the window.
I battled the rapid cycling that started to ramp up dramatically over the last year. I used to be good at predicting the ups and downs, but instead it felt like I was gripping to the side of a roller coaster as my brain hurdled in whatever direction it felt like.
But in all this, I was speaking up more about mental health. People were telling me I was doing a great job. I was getting super kind messages. I wanted to scream that I was in fact terrible, because I was struggling so much.
The thing is, people feel more comfortable when you’re on the other side of a breakdown. That’s usually when I would speak up. People listen when you appear to be okay. If you say for weeks and months on end that you’re still unstable, they don’t like to sit in that discomfort. I didn’t want to make people uncomfortable. In wanting to fight the stigma, I was contributing to it.
The reality of chronic mental illnesses can be hard to treat. Some people can be resistant to medication. Some people refuse treatment because of side effects. Some people have no access to what they need.
I grew tired of hearing the words ‘high functioning’
My world was crumbling even though I kept being told I was high functioning.
Every ounce of my energy was being thrown into work. If I didn’t have work, I would lose my beloved shoe. I was starting early, working through lunch, and working late all to do work that my stable brain could handle in regular hours. I was desperate to keep my job. A job I enjoy, but was feeling less and less able to do.
I was started on two medications at separate times and on both of them I didn’t feel like I could keep my job due to the side effects so I stopped. Keeping the job was more important. I couldn’t think straight and was fighting constant nausea on those meds. Who wants an employee who makes mistakes? I kept on. It didn’t matter how much it broke me, I needed to be a good employee. I will say this is at no fault to my employer. I chose not to share. It was my pride keeping me from that.
The ups and downs continued. Speaking out about mental health continued. I was honest about where I’d been, but about not where I was at.
I could no longer trust my brain. I didn’t trust my emotions. I didn’t trust my paranoia. I didn’t trust myself with my depression. I would slog through fog only to emerge into thoughts that would never stop when I lay in bed to questioning every single purchase I made— even things I needed.
“Do I really need the plumber to come out?” I would ask myself. “Is this noise as bad as I think it is, or is my sense of hearing heightened in this broken brain of mine?”
Many people with Bipolar don’t have rapid cycling. They can have an episode and settle back into normal after medication starts. They can go years without an episode. But not mine. The time in between episodes had me questioning my diagnosis.
Lithium comes with a lot of bloodwork
When the psychiatrist told me I’d been severely under treated. It was almost a relief. But when he told me I was at risk of psychosis, I felt broken. I’d always been told I might be at risk, but it was clear my episodes were getting worse. Then I was told about another diagnosis I’m at risk of. I was devastated. It still lingers above my head— like the sword on a string that may or may not drop.
The suicidal ideation was constant. It didn’t matter whether I was in an up, down, or twisty turn on the roller coaster. It was always there. And when the heights of hypo-mania simmered, I couldn’t be trusted with my life.
All of this led to a boiling point one night when I decided to take my life. I acted on it. I won’t go into detail, but in the end I was fine other than an upset stomach. I wasn’t allowed to be alone for eight days. My sister told me that had she been in the province, she would have taken me away to the Waterford under the Mental Health Act.
I was on NTV saying scathing things about the government’s last of care about our mental health— appearing stable, but with people on constant alert just underneath the loft.
Over the years I have tried almost everything people have suggested. They’ve offered the advice in love, but not known that attempting new things was exhausting. Each new thing made me hope I’d found the perfect thing— only to be let down and needing to let people know it hadn’t worked. I grew tired of feeling like it was my fault for not wanting to try new things. So I would try again.
There was one I didn’t want to try: Lithium. For two reasons.
The side effects
What if the wonder drug didn’t fix me?
But that attempt broke me.
I didn’t want to tell anyone. They would ask why I didn’t call them. The truth is that at that point, it didn’t even enter my mind. I was just exhausted and done with gripping the side of the roller coaster. I’ve always hated them.
I realized lithium had to start. I’d hit a point of either choosing to quit work or start what my psychiatrist called the golden drug for suicidal thoughts. I told him I would do it if he let me write my exam first. In no state to be studying— I did it anyway. In the end, doing my best wasn’t enough. I failed the exam.
It felt as though I’d hit rock bottom. I was trying my best and was coming up short. Even though I tried to be open about the suicidal ideation, I felt like I was attention seeking. I felt guilty. Was I the woman who cried wolf? People want the happy ending. I wasn’t offering that. Did my friends think I was faking it? My friendships started suffering. A long standing problem over the years. I thought I was better at managing it, but I found myself retreating once again just so my internal dialogue wouldn’t plague anyone else.
Everything was messy. I couldn’t even count on the episodes length anymore. I was scared of becoming a broken record. When I attempted to end my life— it was time to face it all.
So here I am. Lithium in my body. I want to downplay it. But the truth is that it might work amazing or it might turn me into a person I don’t know or recognize in the mirror. If people hear I’m on it, they will assume psychosis. I will feel anger about the stigma around psychosis— all the while terrified that it might happen to me.
I feel just as messed up as I used to feel when people said it behind my back and to my face.
Getting here was hard. Acknowledging this is hard.
The truth is that I was dying slowly. Literally.
I hope lithium is the golden drug they claim.
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If you are struggling, or in a crisis, I would recommend calling 1-866-585-0445. They will be there for you in a crisis and also offer free repeat counselling sessions. Please reach out for help. It’s hard, but it ‘s worth it. Please know you make this world a better place and even though I don’t know you, I want you to stay here as long as possible.
