Snowbird-- last fall, (I was not on medication though), I had a pyschotic episode, I was very paranoid of others even of my husband, and I was by myself one day & was so sure that angels were telling me that my youngest daughter was dead. I didn't hear voices, it was more like I just knew I was being given knowledge. I hid my cell phone in a drawer thinking I was going to get a phone call any minute about my daughter & I was terrified any minute the front doorbell would ring. I walked down my hallway & her picture hanging in the hallway suddenly was her lying in a coffin-- the picture of her was wearing a black graduation gown and her white arm was across her body holding a diploma-- but the picture became her as a skeleton in a coffin. Then I cried for about a half hour, deep deep sobs that racked my whole body and I was in a delusion that I was having labor pains & that my daughter came into the world with labor pains & was leaving this world with labor pains.
The most horrible experience of my life, seemed so real. I spent a week in a hospital because of it. After that I never doubted my bipolar diagnosis & take my health even more seriously than before. If I feel like I'm getting manic, I take a hot bath, take one Tylenol PM and have a really good nights sleep-- it works every time.
I am on an antidepressant for bipolar, Latuda, but a low dose. I hate taking medications, but after what I went through I am willing to take them. I don't take Depakote any more, they had me on them for about 6 months-- I was sluggish/sleepy all the time, and my leg muscles starting feeling funny when I went on my walks.
Medications are no joke, and you have to have a really good doctor. I go to the doctor once a month, sometimes more anytime she adjusts my dose. It really sucks suffering from mental illness because it's not like you can talk to people about it. I hid it from my coworkers when I was off work last fall for 6 weeks by telling everyone my back went out LOL