A couple days ago I felt like I was dying. I knew I wasn’t literally dying, but I like to express myself this way sometimes for the dramatic effect. I hope it is working.
Anyway, I felt beyond awful. For two days in a row I woke up in the morning feeling terrible with a horrible headache.
On the first day of my strange illness of whatever it was. I had not diagnosed myself yet. I had a horrific headache but overdosed on Aleve to help my pain. I did not actually overdose of course, as I do not engage in that type of behavior anymore. However, I did take three Aleve instead of the recommended dosage of two at a time. I needed something to help my pain and illness of whatever it was because I was supposed to got to my part-time home health care job later that day. I didn’t feel well but I went anyway.
On the way to my job, I felt awful with my horrible headache and felt nauseous like I was going to throw up. If I got worse when I was at my job, and of course if I threw up, I would have to leave. But, I gave it a try and low and behold my symptoms did get better on that day, after a while.
However, on the second day it was a completely different story. I woke up in the morning with an even worse headache that shot straight to my head and throughout my brain and into my eyeballs. My eyeballs hurt so badly, I felt like I should just pluck them right out of their sockets. Okay . I decided against that idea as it was a very bad idea. I like my eyeballs and I love to see.
Besides my horrendous headache and my eyeballs that hurt so badly they needed to be plucked out from their sockets and removed from head again, my body ached everywhere. My body was so weak I really could not move out of my chair until about 6:00 p.m. until I felt a little bit better. I had chills and would get hot and then have chills again and repeat throughout the day.
I was trying to figure out what was going on with me. I have not been physically sick with anything for a long time. Knock on wood… which is my head, of course. I fell last weekend and am now diagnosing myself by thinking that it was related to my terrible fall and how I somehow injured myself and made it worse by working too much helping my elderly couple yesterday
The Doctor I am, earning my degree from many medical television programs I watched, thought that somehow the pain from my fall became worse and shot straight from my huge purple and now black bruise covering nearly half of one side of my large behind into my brain causing my severe headache and the severe body aches and chills I was having. My illness and everything was related to my terrible, painful and embarrassing fall I had last weekend at my daughter’s Show Choir Competition last weekend. Remember the older and larger you are… the harder you fall… and the slower you heal from your injuries.
I had to call in sick that day and miss work. My boss was not very happy with me, but honestly there was absolutely no way I could go to work as I was too weak, besides the many other horrible symptoms I was experiencing.
Now I bet all of you other doctors out there have diagnosed me with the flu. Guess what? Wrong. Ready for it? Here it comes. This illness was caused by my own doing.
I was having severe withdrawal symptoms from trying to reduce my Clonazepam too quickly. I was not aware that I could feel that ill and awful from just missing two of my Clonazepam, but I sure learned that I could. Wow!
I felt like a zombie too and just very out of it and I felt like I was in some sort of strange state of being, kind high but not really in a good way.
It reminded me of when I was so sick for so many years and my doctors used to drastically and inappropriately play around with my medications. They did this a lot when I was in the hospital mostly and sometimes when I was at home and now I can’t believe they did that to me like they did it.
They would give me medications that I couldn’t take due to severe side effects and/or they did not work for me, so they stopped these medications cold turkey and then began new medications even before the old medications were out of my system. That is why I was so sick and also why I walked around like a zombie not knowing what was going on and not knowing what was happening to me.
My new illness reminded me of how sick I was and I wonder now how I survived that for so many years. Ugh. But, the important part is that I did survive and I survived it very well.
It doesn’t seem like the correct treatment plan or appropriate thing to do. They should gradually discontinue a medication and then later start the new medication. I am not a Psychiatrist, of course, but I am a person with bipolar that knows more than a Psychiatrist or other professionals because I lived through it and I survived everything they did to me. I survived it all.
Praise God! I made it. I survived.
Life is good now.
I am a bipolar survivor.