Friday, March 16, 2012

Sometimes it is your fault, and sometimes it's not.

As people who know me in real life are aware, I am bipolar.  I was diagnosed nearly eight years ago, and while I still have issues from time to time, my illness is well managed.  The other week I was noticing some odd symptoms cropping up indicative of a mixed episode, so I mentioned them to my doctor.  She attempted to prescribe a drug I had been on before that worked really turning me into a zombie.  I begged her to try something different, and she did. So today I picked up my script, and looked at the side effects:

Extreme weight gain and metabolism interference, with severe sedation.


It's apparently the exact same group of meds that I asked not to be put on.  I *told* her about the 82 lbs that I gained as a result of the last med.  I *told* her in no uncertain terms that I could not be a zombie, I have a baby to take care of!  But sometimes, doctors only hear what they want to.


So now I have to either

A)  Try the drug and put my family through hell, all while knowing I am going to blow up like a balloon,
B)  Refuse to take the drug and possibly piss off the doctor, or
C)  Pay for a private doctor - essentially, a walking prescription pad to give me exactly what I want.

And all the time, I need to figure out how this is all going to affect me stress wise.


I told you that story to tell you this one.  A lot of my weight gain is my fault.  I like pie, and hate the treadmill.  Hence, I am a fatty fat fat.  But a lot of my weight gain is not my fault - a drug I was on for 1.5 years destroyed my metabolism in a very nuclear on nuclear way (that is to say, it nuked the nucleus of the cells of my body, altering them forever).  It also packed on the equivalent of an 11 year old girl onto my frame.  That, I can't help.  I'm willing to bet there is something in your life you don't like.  I'm also willing to bet while some of that situation is your fault, some isn't.  So, do you acknowledge the stuff that isn't your fault while striving to do better, or do you just hate yourself for what you cannot be?  Do you take all the blame, when some of it should not be on your shoulders?  Inversely, do you blame your 'other', without taking any responsibility for your part in your situation?

None of this makes a lick of difference in the end.  The weight is still there, whether the drugs did it all, or I just sat around all day eating pie.  I have to work twice as hard to take it off, even though I didn't have nearly as much fun putting it on - I popped a pill that saved my stupid brain is all.

Life sucks.  Wear a helmet.

Sorry.  I know you may have wanted a light hearted romp today.  I'll make up for it with this video of my kid laughing uproariously. Enjoy.

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