I started medication on June 29, so it’s been exactly 10 weeks on these antipsychotics. It’s been incredibly good. I’ve felt like I can complete goals now, without something blocking my brain or telling me I should feel worthless or like I should give up all the time. The first 6-7 weeks were probably the best, but it’s not like recently has been bad!
Today I saw my doctor about adjusting the medication, and at the end of September I’m doubling my current dose (which is really low) to one that’s a more common amount for treatment.
I’ve felt more stable the past few months than I have in years. I’m sleeping more, my brain isn’t on overdrive half the time, I don’t feel useless the other half of the time. I’m really pleased with how I’ve been progressing—to the point I think I’m better and don’t need the medication. But that’s the medication talking. I feel more normal because of it.
I’m not entirely better—I had a… crisis, I guess, on August 30 that really shook me up because I hadn’t felt like that in months. Then I remembered that the way I felt that afternoon was the way I felt weekly, on average, and I can’t fathom how I survived through it that frequently. And I can understand why something like my crisis is serious and should be taken seriously—like it should have been every other time it happened when I was unmedicated and not in counselling.
These 10 weeks have been great. I’m looking forward to the next few months, how I progress, and all that stuff. I can safely say that getting medication, even without a formal psychiatrist’s diagnosis, has helped me.
Basically, it’s been 10 weeks on medication for bipolar and my doctor said I looked happier, my brother and dad say I’ve been more consistent, and my goal completion is a testament to my emotions.