The Medicine Helmet

Picture, if you will, a medieval joust, with two men, each on a horse preparing for the game. Each is clad in armor, including a helmet that is put on and closed just before take off. There are slim slots for the eyes to see through.

I walk around every day with my own "medicine helmet" securely fastened to my head. It never comes off -- as long as I am med compliant every day. Which I am. I feel like a zombie most of the time. But let me relay a little story about what happened to me yesterday.

I awoke very late: 1:30 p.m. Which means I missed my morning dose of meds completely. And guess what? I felt friggin' fabulous. Clear, cogent, felt like I did before this bipolar nonsense blew out in 2002. Dear readers, I felt like I was free, like I could reason effectively, converse intelligently, read and discuss pertinent issues of the day.

And I wondered: Do I really need these pills after all?

I know, however, that this is what trips most folks with a mental illness up: You take your pills, start feeling good, then ditch them -- only to end up worse off in another terrible episode down the line. To the best of my knowledge, I can count on one hand the number of times I have missed a dose since 2002. Husband says it's more. But regardless, I have never felt as good as I did yesterday.

I went ahead and put my helmet back on and followed my dosage schedule last night and this morning, so I'm back on track. And I'm feeling tarry and sinking slowly into quicksand. I know I get the "gold star" for being a trooper all through this episode. Yeah, yeah I'm very proud of this. But that little "taste" of helmet-free living sure was finger-lickin' good.