If I was an alcoholic I wouldn’t be considered “functioning”.
I miss a lot of work due to my Bipolar and Anxiety. I am home right now writing this blog instead of suffering the ride into work, dropping off my baby, dealing with a day at the office, picking up baby, and heading home.
Last night I took five times the prescribed dosage of Klonopin in a desire to end mounting anxiety, and to feel some deep seeded need to get really high. It wasn’t a suicide attempt or anything like that, just wanted to feel what it would be like to be that up on those pills. It didn’t feel good. It was terrifying for a long time, I barely slept comfortably, and I’ve had my coordination taken away from me even through this early afternoon, and I’ve felt hungover. A slight hangover, but one none the less.
I couldn’t drive this morning so I couldn’t go to work. I still couldn’t drive right now if I had to.
Some days I had to stay in bed all day, literally. The depression stings so bad all I can do I cuddle up in bed and pray for it to go away. It is the most debilitating thing I go through, days in bed unable to get out.
I have to take Klonopin at work, almost daily to get through the day.
If my pills were alcohol, I would easily be considered a drunk, and a not very good one at keeping things together. This is a particularly hard time for me, has been for over a year. But I fear that my reliance on medication is turning me into something I don’t want to be. Maybe I would be worse off without the meds, it is hard to say, impossible really. But I certainly have a romantic idea in my head that I’m just fine without medication and that they are tying me down and causing me to be a much worse person and employee than I already am.