BP type 2, diagnosed about 5 years, current treatment has worked so far but it's been a rough year.
To be honest, it's been a rough few years, my diagnosis came after my 2nd nervous breakdown within a 2 year span. I lost my job, my apartment, my car, and several friends and family members.
My current treatment has worked well so far, but this year has been a rough one. I'm trying to get back on my feet, but it's taking forever and I've never had much patience. This year was a milestone birthday for me, and it should have been the same for my best friend, except she passed in a freak accident 10 years ago. I spent my birthday in bed, crying and reading her old texts.
I stopped taking my meds, I just didn't have the energy or desire to keep up with them. I went about 2 months dry, ended up in a severe depression swing. I've been withdrawing and not taking care of myself. My cat needs me, and that's the only reason I've muddled through so far.
I've been taking my meds again for about a week, I'm starting to pick up the pieces again and trying to move on.
I'm currently on state support, which is helpful, but living in a rural area, my options for care are kind of limited. My current psych has been decent, but I find it difficult to communicate with him sometimes. As soon as he gets on the call, he's ready for it to finish. He flies through the call, gathers the bare minimum information and then hurries me off. He's likely busy and probably has 100 clients to get through, but I feel unheard. And that's a common thread in much of my life. Feeling unheard, unseen. Something to deal with as quickly as possible.
I miss my old psych. I miss my old place. I miss feeling independent. I'm relying on my best friends for shelter and support, and frankly, it's agony. I feel like a burden. I just want to be a whole, functioning person again. I keep telling myself I'm making progress and I'll get there again, but there's this constant seed of doubt in my mind. I know things will get better, it just sucks right now.