Klonopin, Drinking, Cigarettes, Bummers, and Depression

I was hypomanic yesterday and embarrased myself at work, then I took a Klonopin to help me sleep.  Today, I’m depressed.  I’ve been cycling off and on for a month.  I’m wondering if Klonopin (which I take once or twice a week) could be a contributing factor.  I also smoked half a pack of cigarettes and got drunk a few nights ago.  Haven’t smoked since May.

My band breaking up is a factor, but I shouldn’t feel this bad.  I don’t won’t to kill myself, but I just want to be dead for awhile. Damien Rice “I know I make you cry, and I know sometimes you wanna die, but do you really feel alive without me,”  is a recurring thought.  It’s more like I want to want to die.  That’s about where I am.

I’m hoping that getting engaged with work today will raise my mood a bit.  Life doesn’t care if you’re depressed or not.  It expects you to keep on living.

And when I feel this way, I don’t want to feel better. I just want to stay this way.  I feel things deeply.  I find meaning in depression.  But the way it’s been going lately, I’ll bounce back up to the other end…perhaps even higher than before.  Seeing my psychiatrist soon.  I just don’t want to take any more medicine than I’m already taking.

Maybe when the Klonopin is out of my system, I’ll level out.  Swimming might help, but I won’t be able to work that into my schedule today.

In my hypomania, I also had to resist reaching out to women in a private sort of way, which is a definite deal breaker for my wife.  I got hit on and a felt myself wanting to go that way, but instead I shut it down.  This is the worst part of my illness…women.  I don’t want to be unfaithful.  That’s not the kind of person I am.  It’s one of the effects of the genes and chemicals that make me bipolar.

When I was full blown manic, I started sneaking over to a megachurch with a praise band, and I engaged in a manic sort of worship.  And at the end of the service, ministers are available to pray with you.  I lined up and when it was my turn, I confessed my behavior with women, and ask him to pray with me about it.  He laid on hands and prayed hard with me.  But even then, I knew that I would continue on.  I don’t know if God can cure mental illness, but He hasn’t done it for me, yet.

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