Get her a pill box, she needs something to love!

So, what’s the distinction between feeling sorry for, and having compassion for…yourself?

This week has been a struggle. Depression is creeping in. I owe friends phone calls and emails. I’ve turned down social engagements. I’m trying not to isolate, but it’s hard.

For some reason, it’s been difficult to stick to my schedule this week, and I’ve screwed up my meds. Twice. One day, I missed my morning pills, entirely. The next day, I nearly took two doses of Lamictal. I caught myself before I did, but it was close. I threw my pill bottles across the room in frustration.

Michael suggested I buy a pill-box.

I told him, I do not want a fucking pill-box. I am not an old lady.

Telling me that his [82 year-old] father has a pill-box (and loves it!), didn’t help.

I am not a pill-box kinda gal.

I am young (sort of).

I am organized (sort of).

And I want to maintain some semblance of beguilement.

Pill boxes are not sexy.

Having to depend on eight different daily medications just to remain healthy and sane is not sexy.

I resent having to take my meds.

I resent other people for not having to take them.

And it pisses me off to no end that I have to keep them organized and maintain a schedule so that I don’t (metaphorically and literally) lose my shit.

But I know I have to do this.

Sigh.

So, I relented. And I am now the not-so-proud owner of my very own pill-box.

Decidedly NOT sexy.

I get stuck in this loop of self-pity and then I feel like an asshole for it. I’m not generally one to throw myself pity parties.

But, I can’t seem to shake this mood.

It sucks.

I talked about it in therapy today.

Bunny told me that I need to:

  1. Acknowledge that yeah, is does suck.
  2. Remember that occasionally feeling sorry for myself is not a bad thing.

Bunny said, “you would have far more compassion for anyone else going through this.”

Eh. Maybe. Probably, I guess.

I don’t really care.

Maybe there is still an eensy part of me, deep down inside, that hasn’t fully accepted that this bipolar disorder is a chronic illness; that it won’t go away. Maybe if I resist it hard enough, life will go back to ‘normal’.

This new normal? Well, so far, I can’t say I’m impressed.

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7 thoughts on “Get her a pill box, she needs something to love!

  1. oh yeah. been there. done that. it’s ok to sit on the pity pot for a time. this illness DOES suck (so does the sinus infection I have right now. At least I know that one will go away).

    you will eventually come to accept it most of the time. really. it only took me 2 1/2 years. really. and intensive therapy. really. now most of the time it’s just there and sometimes, even, I consider it a gift. really.

    don’t blame yourself. treat yourself with compassion. no one else will to the extent you can. here’s a site that I’ve found helpful as I’ve learned to use the tools of mindfulness and meditation. http://www.self-compassion.org

    • Thanks, Shelly. I’ll take a look at that site. I’m only vaguely familiar with the concept of mindfulness (mostly from reading your blog!). It’s something I’m interested in learning more about.

      Hope you feel better!

  2. I’ve been reading your blog religiously, even though I don’t always comment. I just want to tell you that I love how you write and I admire your efforts to make your diagnosis your bitch. And I’m pretty fond of the virtual you, too. XO

  3. Hang in there… And there are pretty/funny/cool pillboxes out there. Check out Etsy! Of course, most of them aren’t weekly pill-minders, but at least the kind you would carry around for a PRN medication. 🙂

      • For in my pocket, I use an old pill box I had from my bartending days that just happens to have an etching of a loon on it. Even though I love the “happy pills” types of pill boxes on Etsy, that loon seems to work pretty darn well for me. Glad you like the suggestion, though! 🙂

        I have a regular old 7-day extra large pillbox for my morning meds, though, and small aluminum capsules I keep in every purse/backpack with an extra dose of the critical meds. It’s actually kind of ridiculous to think of how many little boxes and containers for pills I have floating around in my possession…

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