my meds alter my thinking

[high maintenence]

I do the exact same thing with words...thankfully Frog always knows what I'm trying to say...but it gets hard when you're trying to talk intelligently to someone. Isn't it funny how you can't say wtf you are trying to say when you're in a rage...cracks my family up and sometimes we just all end up laughing.

[clayton]

We're trading, seems to me, some creativity and some brilliance for stability--everything is a trade-off.

[Joe Buck]

Clayton & all,
     According to experts this is how human behavior is formed:
     What we think creates our emotions. Our emotions creates our moods & our moods create our behavior. Clayton describes his lack of creativity when medicated. This is a constate for all of us on meads. The meds we are throwing into our mouths are some nasty ass shit.Mental health is trying to keep our emotions rotatively level to lessen the range of each cycle. So when a cycle comes around, your doc does not have to pull you back from a deep depression or high mania. To simplify, if you follow the behavior formula, meads alter all of the processes, having differant results from differant people. BP is the most severe of all Mi's. Every BP experiences & reacts to the disorder in differant ways. It is one screwed up mess for us & the clinicians. No cut & dry blueprint to go off from.
  To me, being on meds is like a straight base line on a graph. I picture myself standing on the base line & thinking, I have to get off this boring, drab, monotonous line; it's eating me alive. I look down, in the deep abyss of depression, & see no yellow brick road to travel on. Anxiety & fear come over me as I gaze, into the darkness. Kiss my ass, I would have to be one dumb sucker to take that route. I look up & God damit the grass is green on the other side. Those fricken liars, saving the good stuff for themselves. I feel like eve, apple in hand talking to that smelly snake. No way snakie boy, if I eat this apple all that good shit is going to happen.
   I lay down on the line & think to myself, all I want is to feel alive again. To run in the fresh meadows. To drink the cold, fresh water in the stream. To hear the birds sing. To look up in the big beautiful sky & feel content. Feel the warm sunlight on my face. But reality breaks through with that gut wrenching feeling of uncertainty. The famous old quote comes to mind : "damed if you do, damed if you don't"  Most people say,this emotionless line is the safest place to be. But that burning thought keeps rolling around. Once you step off this prick there is no guarantee. But again, here I am standing in the kitchen, glass of water in one hand & the meds in the other. Yup, doing the neverending "medication bop." So in goes the meds, gulp the water & think, "Why did my parents teach me that shit about not to waste anything! If I only could waste this bipolar disorder. Well tomorrow is another day.....MAYBE!!!
                                                                  See you at the pharmacy,
                                                                   Joe Buck

[Jennie]

ii know nothing about this, but ii can very much say that I'm having the same problems.
Well I'll  just keep coming back to see what you guys post.
Thanks.
Toodlez
-Jennie

[high maintenence]

Joe, my words exactly...see 'ya at the pharmacy. Remember the guy on the movie "Canvas" that he and the pharmacist knew each other on a first name basis...I'm sure is the same with you and it definitely is the same with me.