A Changed Body.

Since I began taking lithium, I have gained about 60 pounds. I've not been able to lose more than 10 pounds. I weigh well over what I weighed at full-term pregnancy. This is mortifying. I've never had significant trouble with my weight.

My body is different. I'm soft where I used to be lean. I have angry new stretch marks. Often, I feel fairly at peace with my body. I've even enjoyed buying some new clothes for my new shape. But sometimes, I feel ashamed. I used to be proud of my flat stomach. It's unrecognizable now. Two people have asked if I were pregnant.

Other changes have come with my meds. I tremble. I can't handle any major cold or hot temperatures. My appetite is unpredictable--sometimes I can't eat at all--and some familiar tastes have become too intense for me. I often throw up at night. One of the major changes is extreme thirst. For years now, I've needed several liters of water a day. If I don't have water with me, I feel panicked.

But with all this, I know that my medications help keep me sane and probably help keep me alive. So I guess I'll make a daily choice to risk my physical health to save my mental health. Still, I'm going to work harder to stay physically healthy.

A Bit of What I Hate Most about Bipolar Disorder.

• The inability to remember much of what I read, both while I'm reading and after I finish a piece. Some of my GoodReads records are unfamiliar to me.
• Pressured speech, especially at a bad time. I'll be bubbling and foaming with ideas, doubts, memories, and whims while Josh is trying to go to sleep. It's happened in the middle of the night too.
• Hallucinations, especially if they are scary. I go into this drowsy, opened-minded place, and I feel my stomach and my brain tugging at each other. I come out of it exhausted. And even when I know a hallucination is not real, it can still be scary, both as itself and as a demonstration of my illness.
• I may have passed it to my child.
• It seems to contribute to a massive loneliness I sometimes feel even when I'm not alone.
• I get paranoid about getting into trouble for something I didn't do purposely.
• I sometimes withdraw--not good for relationships.
• Sometimes, I fiercely analyze my relationships, often in a paranoid or possessive way.
• I lose objects several times a day. A book, keys, a pen cap...
• Simple tasks require extreme motivation.
• Tin Man: I can't move for several minutes.
• I doubt my abilities.
• As Mom tells me, I have an inaccurate view of myself.
• Sometimes, I can't read or write.
• I'm not good at managing friendships.
• Some days, all I want to do is sleep. Escape, rest, relief.
• Understanding what I say can be difficult for others. I may speak too quickly, and I take detours.
• I struggle with sitting down and reading for a sustained period.
• I often hurt everywhere.
• I can become very insecure; then, I can become clingy. I doubt the love of others, and I doubt that I am interesting enough to be a desirable friend, partner, close family member, and so on.
• Getting ready and self-care are terribly difficult.
• I get overwhelmed easily, and I don't want to ask for help.
• I dissociate, which is frightening. Imposters show up in our family photos, posing as me or others.
• It lies. You are unworthy, you have nothing to offer, people just tolerate you, you should just give up in a million ways for a million reasons.