Page 30 of Loyalty

“The first few days were a bad fog.”

“We figured that, though, right?”

John shrugged. “It’s still pretty thick most days. The medication fog, I mean.”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks since we changed the dose, right?”

“Something like that.”

Amelia scratched something down to the paper. “I need you to give it some time to readjust, John. Lowering the dose could have bad consequences.”

Sometimes, the meds were just … too much. A hazy fog descended over his brain, and took over everything. A single missed pill, or the wrong dose, could send him into a manic spiral within days.

“Yeah, I know,” John finally said.

Not that he liked it.

“Every person managing their bipolar disorder is different,” Amelia said. “You have to allow the medication time to settle with you, and your disorder.”

“I’m aware. Except I was just fine for three years in prison taking only the Lithium. On your suggestion, I’ve added more medications to that, and all it’s done is put me in a fog. I can’t exactly be productive when my mind is like looking through frosted glass.”

He’d been dealing with this and medications and everything else related to this disorder since he had been diagnosed as an older teen.

It never ended.

“You also deal with depression and anxiety, and the new med change should help with that. We discussed this. It’s why we chose the med change.”

She said we.

Truth was, she decided that.

John went along with it for now. Based on the way the new med regime left him feeling on a daily basis, he couldn’t say how long it would last. Sure, some bipolar people needed more than just one med to manage their disorder—he wasn’t sure he was one of those people based on his past experience. His therapist had a different opinion, but then again, she had only been treating him since his release, and not since his diagnosis.

Some therapists worked that way—they made decisions on medications, and the patients went along with it until they found the combination that worked. He preferred telling Amelia what worked best for him, and having her work that way.

So far, that’s not how this whole thing had gone down.

Amelia rested back in her chair, and said, “For some people, bipolar is just one part of their life. A background thought that they manage with medication and whatever else. So today, I would like to talk about what being bipolar is—and means—to you, John.”

Great.

He chuckled dryly, and toyed with the Rolex on his wrist. “For me, bipolar makes up a great portion of who I am. A lot of my relationships had been forged or broken because of this disorder. How I eat is determined by which foods might hinder or help my mood swings. It controls the fact that the first thing I do in the morning is take several pills because I won’t remember if they’re not the first thing I go to. What else do you want to know?”

“What’s it like for you day to day?”

“Depends on where I am in a cycle,” he replied.

“And where are you right now?”

“Low.”

She raised a brow. “Low as in a depression, or …?”

“No, just fine. There’s low, and then there’s low. I only get really low after the mania breaks. I mean, the depression is always there warring back and forth, but it never gets dangerous for me until after a manic episode.”

“And how does that usually feel for you—depression after mania, I mean?”

“The way depression usually feels. Add in suicidal thoughts manifesting, and you’ve got depression after a manic break for me.”