On feeling better, and having trouble trusting that feeling

So, I’m still feeling super awesome. I’ve gotten enough sleep almost every night for three weeks, which is a pretty drastic improvement for me. I feel really, really good.

I don’t trust this feeling whatsoever.

I have good days, and sometimes I have more good days than bad, don’t get me wrong. I think the new combination of meds is helping tremendously, and I’ve not had any adverse effects. Well, mostly. Today, I found out my triglycerides are high. Ironically, the night before I’d been asking one of the docs I work with about antidepressants and metabolic issues, and she told me but antidepressants tend to affect triglycerides, so I’ll just make sure I cut down on the fast food and increase my exercise, which I already know I need to do, and hopefully that’ll work without having to go on yet another medication. My total cholesterol is AWESOME and has gone down 24 points in the last year, from 198 to 174, both numbers well within the normal range. My thyroid levels are good and my blood pressure is good. Higher than I’d like, but my doctor is just fine with it, so I’m not too concerned.

I have the energy to start a belly dancing class after Thanksgiving. I am getting enough sleep, and I’m taking my medication on time. My new shifts on Monday and Tuesday feel so good. I’ve got my notes caught up and I’m on track to make productivity this month.

This is SO WEIRD, guys.

I don’t trust this feeling of overall good health, and peace. I keep expecting to get hit between the eyes with depression again, but even the odd thought I’ve had in the last couple weeks is relatively tame. Even getting the news about my bloodwork results today, AND a meeting about how to better make productivity, as well as a visit from the ACT supervisor for our state, I still am not (terribly) shaken. I had a mild panic attack but was able to get through it without needing medications.

But, because bipolar disorder is cyclical, and I am a cynical, fickle thing, I am convinced the floor will fall out from under me, I’ll spiral out of control again and lose my job and get denied unemployment and not be able to find a job and then lose my housing and my car and end up being taken to court over my unpaid student loans… And even that worst-case scenario, that usually keeps me nervous and anxious and is always at the forefront of my mind, isn’t phasing me. This is so strange.

I don’t trust it. But I can’t help but be warily hopeful, that this might be my new baseline.

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