Living Bipolar – Alas Poor Lithium, I Knew You Well

As I came to reference my title, I went webby. I verified the saying by coming across this quote;

Hamlet:

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite


jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a


thousand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is!


My gorge rises at it.

It seems like a most beautiful eulogy; "a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back thousand times."

I also notice that it’s not “I knew him well”, there is no “well”.  Well, I've decided that  my new reading selection is going to be a book by Shakespeare. It has to be something I have never seen as movie or play. I think my vocabulary is strong enough, since I’m no longer a child, to follow what’s happening. When I was a child, I thought I would never understand Shakespeare. (note to self - a child's lack of hope) Then I saw a few plays and my knowledge increased and even some more.

I have a lot of respect for Shakespeare because he invented words and they became part of language. I think this is beyond brilliant.

On to the lithium issue; I was so pleased to share my side-effects, and be so incredibly sure of myself, when I saw my shrink on Tuesday. I had to be clear and name them all.

Weight gain (176 pounds – 198.6 pounds). The lithium was started in August. It is now November.

Acne. I imagined every single pore had fallen to the control of the dark side. The other thing about my acne was the potential white head load. After even much washing, each tiny bump felt like sandpaper when my skin dried. Every time I put my hands to my face, that sandpaper, I slumped into a state defeat. Then I accepted my situation as futile, so finally my self-esteem bottomed. Of, course in my mind this was never going to go away, because of the hopelessness of depression. I was having the hardest time with it. No amount of washing, even gently, was helping. The pores on my nose were black inside. They weren’t blackheads because the pores were not closed or deformed. I imagined each one was a tiny cauldron brewing  dark sebum.

I couldn’t eat butter because of the "schmell" before:
http://theambiguousfrog.blogspot.com/2009/09/living-bipolar-ive-lost-my-butter.html

Butter has returned itself to me. I am so very happy about this. The change really got in the way of my quality of life.

Tonight I was in the bathroom. I looked in the cupboard and found that hideous, wreaking, coconut scented cream rinse:
http://theambiguousfrog.blogspot.com/2009/10/living-bipolar-cream-rinse-is-butter.html 
I opened the bottle and expected relief (keeping positive). Yummy coconut wafted up my nostrils. It was settled then; the "schmell" was gone, like an evil spirit having been exorcised.