What Color is your Valium?

I’m serious, it is a legitimate question to ask. You can answer for any of your really strong drugs that keep you balanced. My Valium is bright orange. It is the color you see when you go to the drug store and buy waxy earplugs or those really gross circus peanuts that people seem to enjoy.

Bright Orange. I suppose that it is supposed to maybe cheer me up. Make me feel like taking them it a-ok. Most of my pills, if you lay them out, are brightly colored. That is one of the reasons you know, that they say to keep them away from kiddos. I’m getting off the topic here, but there is a reason for that too. And that reason is exactly why I curious about the color of your Valium.

I have never really talked about my bipolar before but it is something that has come up a lot more recently. My switch seems to be getting flipped a lot more easily. I wake up this morning, I’m excited to start my day….well mostly, I have the kids ask the neighbor if they can walk with him to the bus because I haven’t changed and the color air hurts my soul. But most of all because I really don’t want to leave this house. I never want to leave the house.


So I woke up in a good mood, woke Charming up in a silly way and the kids. I sat down on the couch with Louise and pulled a blanket over me. (This is after the kids left and I still have not been able to get Charming out of bed) I have a huge cup of hot cocoa, that doesn’t taste as good as when Charming makes it but I know he is running late, so I don’t bother him. I have an appointment for OT and PT consults starting at 1015, it’s only 845 ish.

I take morning meds, meds that have a bit to keep down my depression but do nothing for my manic (those ones are bright blue!) and watch one of my fave shows as I get dressed and I put my contacts in. The show ends I am fully dressed…except my keys. I begin to search.

I search and search and search. Everywhere they should be, under everything. I start to panic. The switch starts to flip. I am running around the house frantically looking for my keys which I can not find. I call Charming, I cry about my keys, I snap at him for taking the wrong car, I apologize, I hang up.

Out of breath, I call the doc’s office to reschedule the appointments. I send Charming an apology text and now the house begins to waver. So not only is my snowball rolling down the hill of disasterville but it’s getting harder to stand. So I curl up on Louise, nest down into a blanket and open that bottle of joy, swallowing my dosage of happiness.




It takes a while to work but the placebo effect kicks in as it always does and I know I am going to be ok. I fell asleep and woke up indifferent. Not happy not sad but back to meh. That’s what sucks about having a mental disorder and a personality disorder. You never know who is going to win the fight when you wake up from something you perceive as bad.

When you crash emotionally and you don’t know what is going to happen. when you have trains of thought that go five billion miles per hour and in thirteen million different ways. You wake up and you are either the squirrel from”Over the Hedge” or Eeyore. You are either a drill sergeant getting everyone ready and doing your daughters hair all fancy. Or you are really wishing you were healthy enough to homeschool because then you wouldn’t have to leave the house.

You have this manic energy to clean the entire house, and after a few minutes, your body gives up on you. You collapse on the floor in tears because you just want things to be good. You want to make everything ok again. You want to feel useful but your body doesn’t want you to help. So you nest into yourself and become defensive.

Or worse, you just don’t care, about anything. you sit there and nothing’s going to make you care. You haven’t gotten validation from the people you feel you need it from. So instead of using your words, you just are emotionless. Or you are mean and push people away. Or at least, you try to. But there is always one person that won’t go away, and you have a love/hate relationship with that. it’s more that you love them and hate yourself. Because you don’t have the words to tell them what’s going on in your brain. Because you don’t know what’s going on in your brain.

So there you have it. At least, I think I summed up the bipolar thing rather well. And I even threw in a little borderline in there for ya… When it comes to having any illness that requires pills you sit there and wish for it to be over you count the days till you can stop taking pills and feel better. But, there are days that I look at those very bright pills in my hand, take a deep breath, ignore the tears welling up in my eyes and swallow all those brightly colored pills in my hand.

Because no matter how many days I count, you can’t get rid of what I have.




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