Manic Depression Full Speed Ahead

This is not graceful, thought out, or even coherent.  Please do not use this post to form any opinions on my abilities as a writer.  I have to let this out.  I have to scream out loud to an invisible world without worrying if I'll lose a friend, a job, my mom's respect.  I just need, for one moment, to rant completely and honestly with out depending on the hope for sanity to get me through it.  

Fucking pills.  I hate everything about you.  The round one takes the depression away but makes me too sedated to function.  The oval one gets me out of bed but causes me to smoke and grind my teeth, the pink ones are supposed to stabilize me.  And now, you, octagonal little trouble makers.  What are your intentions for me?

I'm getting off the seroquel.  I hate everything about it except for the fact that the last 7 years I have been less inclined to kill myself than I ever was my whole life.  But it causes disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, god knows what else.  There's already been a class action law suit against those ignorant, sadistic, money grubbing assholes in the pill pumping department of human abuse and misuse.  Without the seroquel I could get up in the morning, but can not sleep at night.  When I've tried to go off it on my own, I've spent the nights rolling back and forth in my bed experiencing various odd forms of unconscious psychotic episodes that leave my bedroom strange colors and my thoughts racing in words and phrases that make no sense.  The worst was the depression.  I thought of every which way I could kill myself.  The pain started in my head and worked its way into my chest, my stomach.  I think even my vagina hurt.  So I went back on it again. 

Now a new doctor and new health care, so I'm once again trying to ween off the seroquel as well as the provigil which I've been taking all these years to help with the retched sedation, giving me that boost I need to wake up in the morning.

Now Lamictal, the latest and the greatest with the littlest of side effects.  I wondered, through all these changes, what would it be this time, if it would be anything at all.  I told myself that I was in a better place, more well rounded, sober, healthier.  I hoped that I could get out of this transition alive and with very few consequences.  But no.  I have gone full force into mania.  I can't stop talking, loudly, vulgarly.  I stutter.  Every fucking word is choppy when I try to let it out.  I talk Everywhere.  To anyone.  I got written up at work today for swearing on the floor in front of customers to my boss.  I've never been written up for anything in my entire life.  I have always composed myself at this job with dignity and a certain level of professionalism that I've been truly proud of.  I can't stop it.  I don't even know it's happening until it's too late.  The behavior, the fucking behaviour.  I should be more collected, more calm, I should know better than THIS.  Fucking mania.  I thought I won.  worst of all, or maybe not, I don't really know what worst of all is, by the end of each day I crash.  Every ounce of energy is sucked right out of every pore in my body.  All I am is drained.  I'm at war with my own brain, my cognitive existence.  Bombs and tear gas are going off right inside my head as we speak. 

Ugh, how long will this go on for?  I hope I get over it before my mom comes to town.  She's always embarrassed by my mania.  I don't blame her.  I am too.  Sometimes I love it.  I'm funny, witty, fun.  Other times I know I'm annoying and out of line.  Loud.  Obnoxious.  Undesirable.  Hunter says that it's only when I'm off my meds or making changes in them that he's reminded that I'm bipolar.  He says that when I'm stabilized one might think me crazy to even elude to the idea that I have a mental illness.  I want to be there.  Stabilized.  So normal that the people around me would never believe I take lithium for manic depression.  Let me be manic though because I know its either this or depression so deep that all I can think about is killing myself.  Every single time I've made medication changes it's always one or the other.  At least I don't want to die.  But God I want the transitional period to be over.  Already 2 weeks of this chaos.  How much longer can I hold my job if my big mouth won't stop flapping incessantly, loudly, vilely.  And the twitching.  Oh my god it's so embarrassing!  If I could just stop twitching.  I'm so tired.  It's exhausting trying so hard to act normal.  If I could spend the next month only communicating through letters and email.  I could think things through, write, edit, reread, write again.  No one would judge me or look down on me or think I'm crazy.  I need a big dark hole to hide in for a while.  Just to get through this.  It's been so long since I've had a manic episode I forgot what it felt like.  It was fun the first 2 weeks but I don't want it anymore.  Please go away mania.  Let me be me again.