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I had a little chat with a blog friend, Sassy, today through the comments section of her latest post.  And the result was that we both admitted that if it weren’t for our loved ones (my husband, her kids) we probably would have chucked our meds and let bipolar take us where it wanted to take us a long time ago.  As it is, neither of us feels particularly well, even on our meds.

What happens to the people who don’t have loved ones to tether them to trying?  Trying is hard.  In the case of bipolar disorder, trying can be excruciating.

Some people are lucky.  They find a medication that works for them relatively easily and they are able to get their moods regulated rather quickly.  These people continue their careers, relationships and lives.  Yes, there are bumps in the road, but with good medication regulation and therapy, those bumps might not be so bad.

Some people are not lucky.  They can’t find a medication that works for them.  Some meds may not work at all.  Some meds may have side effects that are unacceptable, such as various side effects that could cause death.  Some meds may work, but not for long, requiring the search to begin again.

I’m in the “not lucky” category as far as medications are concerned. The medication I am on now, Tegretol, is causing serious cognitive impairment in the form of memory loss and two weeks ago I was contemplating suicide. However, this medication is the one that has worked best for me so far.  On the day I spent experiencing suicidal ideation, I never reached the planning phase, which is fantastic.  And, if I write enough things down, nothing major will slip through the cracks.

And I do this, for my husband.  My friends don’t live near me and I don’t see or talk to them often.  My family is pretty much down to my parents and brother at this point and my parents are the “nurture” part of the problem, even now.  If you follow this blog, you probably remember the post where my father told my brother he should just go ahead and kill himself.  If not, you can find it here.

I’ve been hanging onto a depression low for awhile now.  It’s had a few pops of hypomania in it thanks to my rapid cycling, but mostly it’s just been depression.  Which means I’m expending vast amounts of energy trying to put on a happy face while my husband is home.  I feel like the people in the Rexulti commercial

(I’m endorsing nothing, I just happen to think that the Rexulti commercial is pretty good as far as describing the depression and pretending part of the disorder goes)

It’s exhausting.  But, when I feel good, when it’s just me and him, he’s who makes the fight worth it.

If you are treatment resistant, medication resistant, or just too poor to afford good health-care (which is a whole other post) what, or who, keeps you going?