The dreams are what get to me. I close my eyes and have these intense, realistic dreams that I'm not sure if they're really happening or not. Some of them are pleasant, but most are not. Most make me feel awful, and I'm often crying or yelling or screaming. There's always a feeling of severe injustice to me personally in them. My integrity or emotions or intelligence are being attacked. And it always comes down to the illness. I'm not good enough because of my illness. I can't do it because of my illness. So day in and day out I keep my mouth shut because I can't let people know that I have this illness because of the misbeliefs about it. 'You have bipolar disorder? Oh my god, stay away from my kids!!! You'll get all batty and then show up to school with a gun and kill everyone!' Or even something like:'We're just not going to have her come back and sub this year because she has a mental illness even though it never affected her performance as a substitute teacher before now'. Yep. That's how it is. I haven't subbed this year at all because of that very thing. Once they learned I had a mentalillness (and even though I'm receiving treatment for it) it was over. Maybe they're right ~ about not having me back. Not about the gun-weilding teacher part, that's not even funny. But I'veactually heard parents talk like that about teachers when they find out something like a teacher suffers from depression… But as I was saying, I haven't stabilized. I can't work a normal job because my moods and sleep schedule are so screwed up. I know I'm having a pity me moment, but I guess I'm trying to illustrate to myself and those of you reading this, WHY exactly I don't work. I was up at midnight tonight after going to sleep at 10 p.m. I stayed up for 2 hours and then went back to sleep until 5:30ish. Now I'm up again. But I'm exhausted and my brain feels like mush. I don't think I could handle a classroom full of children at this point. But see, IKNOW that. I know when I'm ineffective and amnot up to par. That's why there's more than one substitute on the roster. I was only working on days when I was well and stable. Most of my problem right now is what I've gone through with the Ritalin and then just lately the Latuda. I'm so frickin tired of feeling like a human guinea pig! I'm sick of the pills, the side effects, the doctors and the therapists. I'm sick of the waitingrooms full ofblank faces that mirror my own ~ all of ussubdued versions of ourselves due to 'medicine'. Who are they really helping; themselves or us? It's easier to control people when they are in our state, medicated with brain altering chemicals. No, I'm not being paranoid. And I'm not being anti-medication either. Don't just stop taking your meds because you've read this. I'm just saying when you're dealing with psychiatric care on a large scale basis the outcome of the product is not good enough. I.E. it's better to turn us into walking zombies that don't put up a fuss or fight or argument during appointments or question the doctor's orders. Instead we just nod our heads and fuzzily think "okay" and shuffle out and leaveas they hurry past you to get to the next zombie-like patient that they have to see and medicate.Recently I've found myself wondering If I should even be driving. My reflexes have slowed due to amounts of certain medications I'm on, and I'm fearful of driving on busy roads and especially places like interstates. Too much risk that I won't react quickly enough or think clear-mindedly enoughto avoid calamity. Driving used to be one of my most cherished personal times ~ I LOVED to drive the open road by myself anywhere I could get to. Now, it's another story. I'm almost afraid to drive at all. I still do it and make myself do it, but I'm extra careful now. It's not a freedom or a luxury anymore, it's not really enjoyable ~ it's more of a "I have to do this so let's get it over with" thing and "pray that nothing bad happens" thing. When my husband is home he drives all the time. He just takes the keys and assumes the driver's seat. Years and years ago I would have fought that. I don't anymore. I just hand him the keys. It's a surrender. I know his senses are sharper and his mind clearer than mine. So I swallow my pride and just do what I know is in everyone's best interest. There's a lot of things like that now; things that I've surrendered doing. Because other people are afraid, whether it's justified or not. I've stopped fighting it, stopped arguing for myself and just do as I'm told in so many ways. I'm not a'real' person anymore, I have an ILLNESS.People look at me and that's who I am to them. I hate that, but I'm too tired to correct it anymore. It seems like a useless fight. I'm sorry that this blog is a downer but hey we're all here to talk out our b.s., am I right? Well this is my bullsh*t right now and I need to put it down on paper or whatever you want to call blogging. I hope all are well or at least comfortable. I wish you peace, light, love and some happiness. I also wish it for me.


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