The result has been pretty obvious: I need to be medicated for my own safety. In the last few weeks I've been sky-high and then gone crashing to rock-bottom, suicidal lows. Oddly enough my body image is better than ever. I finally caved and bought pants that fit. My weight has stabilized and started to turn back around. I'm bingeing far less than I did on the last med even though it was supposed to help me. It does mean though that I'm faced with a closet that looks like this.
I now own every size pant from a two to a fourteen. Each morning it's like:
Me: okay, time to get dressed! Let's head over to the nice, organized closet....
Body: hm, being nice and taught yesterday was okay, but being super bloated today will be fun!
Me: okay...wait, what? My size 10 jeans don't fit today? They did yesterday! (digs around in closet)
Body: Hehe, I just wanted you to get some extra exercise. Now you'll have to unpack three boxes of clothing to find the size 12 skinny jeans that you put away yesterday. Lifting heavy boxes of clothes from way up on high shelves is like weightlifting, right? Squats and weights all at once. It's the hot new exercise trend all the girls are trying!
Me: (zipping into the 12s) Wait. These are loose. (digs around for the size 10 relaxed-cut jeans that I just dumped in a random box that I've now misplaced in the pile of other boxes.) ....and now I'm late for work. ARGHH!
Body: oh, forgot to tell you, you're thirsty. Go have a drink, get a little bloated, and we can do it all again. Booyeah! Are we having fun or what?!
So the closet is a lovely mess. And so is the bedroom. Yes, those are k'nex in our bedroom.
The bedroom is a mess because we're working on the matrix room so some of the matrix room stuff was moved into there. At least there's some progress on the matrix room:
These little memory lapses are making it harder to keep track of where I left things. For example, my engagement ring. This morning, after days of not wearing any of my rings at all I decided to put my wedding band and engagement ring back on. And couldn't find the ring.
We tore the place apart for an entire hour before I looked in the medicine cabinet and found the ring in a jar of soapy water that I use for cleaning jewelry. I had zero memory of having placed it there but I know I must have at some point. Thank heavens we found it!
I really hate misplacing things. This kind of thing happens all the time now and it did before I went on the meds. I miss my memory on the meds. I miss how I was able to follow through on the entire process of putting something away. I could pick up an object that was out of place, walk to the place it needed to go and replace the object without another thought interrupting the process. I would remember where I put things. Good thing I'm probably going to try another new med when I see my psych doc on Wednesday.
If you've had psychiatric meds help you, did you find that they helped your memory?