Better relate to

Despite what my blog says under what I'm currently reading, which has displayed the cover of The Grapes of Wrath for about six months now, I've been reading other books instead. I am trying to get through The Grapes of Wrath, it's just a difficult read when you have very little concentration, so I've been focusing on books that I can better relate to and therefore understand. In other words, I've read Shockaholic and Wishful Drinking, both written by Carrie Fisher. You know, the chick that played Princess Leia and is very vocal about her substance abuse and bipolar.

My daughter and I saw her perform her stage show of Wishful Drinking last year and it was very entertaining. She's quite the comedian. As for her books, they're definitely not Pulitzer prize or other award winning titles, but as one bipolar relating to another, they're interesting. She writes the way someone with mania speaks. Often going off on little tangents and using "so anyway" to get herself back on track. I think anyway is a popular word for most bipolars.

What I find most odd are the startling similarities between our daughters. They are the same age (born in 1992) and both have what are traditionally considered boy names. Both are straight A students. Both want to become neurologists with a study emphasis on schizophrenia. They can both sing. There are also similarities between me and Carrie, aside from just the whole bipolar thing. Unfortunately I can't, or rather won't, go into details about what some of those might be because that would mean revealing something about myself that no one outside my family knows. I can share that we were both born in October.

Luckily I've never had the substance abuse problems she's had, nor the fame. I think both are a curse and I already have enough issues to tackle without adding to the horror that is my life. Which, speaking of, is teetering precariously on the edge again.

I can sense the psychosis trying to emerge from its drug induced coma. I catch glimpses of it almost daily and try as I might to just shrug it off, I am mildly concerned that it will overtake me at any moment. I see the pdoc on Tuesday and I'll bring this to his attention, but I'm not sure what he can do except raise the dose of Seroquel I'm on. I doubt that's an option because I'm already struggling to take it nightly. The voices in my head have begun screaming at me to get off it again, that it's poison. That it's the reason I'm becoming psychotic.

Oh well, we'll just wait and see what happens Tuesday. Hopefully the office hasn't cancelled my appointment or changed it to a different time without telling me.