It’s been several years now that I’ve been trying out different bipolar medications as well as antidepressants to get a handle of my mental health. I’ve been on Latuda, Abilify, Rexulti, Lamictal, Vraylar, Wellbutrin… those are just the ones I can remember. Right now, I’m not on any bipolar medication and I’m on a simple antidepressant called Desvenaflaxine. For the past few months, my symptoms have been under control.
I was diagnosed several times over the past fifteen years with a variety of things, ranging from Borderline Personality Disorder to depression and finally, bipolar 2 (the soft bipolar). As a result, I’ve been on more drugs than some people will be on in their entire lifetime.
Here’s my experience with bipolar drugs and antidepressants:
Lamictal
This was the first drug prescribed to be, more than a decade ago. At the time, I complained to the psychiatrist that my thoughts were racing around in my head so fast that I thought they would crash into each other. At the time, I was barely in my late twenties and I was struggling with finding my footing in my career. At the same time, I was a new mom.
The psychiatrist prescribed Lamictal (Lamotrigine). It’s the same medication often used for epileptic seizures, which was a bit concerning to me. But it’s supposed to be one of the best. Lamictal is also weight neutral.
Within a week, I was staying up all night on Lamictal. When I told the doctor, she told me to stop the medication and didn’t prescribe anything else.
I went on this way for ten years without any medication, until a manic episode at age 38.
Wellbutrin
When I ended up in the hospital at the age of 38, the doctors chalked it up to depression and tried me out on Wellbutrin. This is supposed to be a wonder drug for depression and I already had a family member who raved about it.
Unfortunately, my experience was horrifying. I had a psychotic episode on Wellbutrin. Allow me to elaborate — I heard sounds that weren’t there; thought my kids wanted to harm me; and I couldn’t sit still and felt the urge to to running down the street. Instead, I locked myself up in my blanket and stayed perfectly still, terrified of what I would do.
Oh, and I was convinced there was a shadow man standing by my bedside.
Creepy.
Ok. So Wellbutrin was an epic fail. Moving on.
Latuda
The next drug on the list was Latuda. I was prescribed 20mg and was supposed to move the dose up to 60mg. I tolerated the 20mg very well. It was a lifesaver at the time. I felt great, my mood lifted, and I was able to sleep at night. It was a challenge, however, to take Latuda (lurasidone) with 300 calories because I often took it at bedtime, after I’d eaten all my meals. And those who know me know that I’m a calorie counter (even the days I eat smoked meat sandwiches, poutine and cheesecake in the same meal).
The problem with Latuda came at 60mg. At 20, I tolerated it. At 40mg, my legs began to feel a restless sensation. At 60mg, I was in the movie theater watching Dark Phoenix when I couldn’t stop kicking my legs. I had to eventually leave the theater, only to fall asleep at a traffic light on the way home. It’s not uncommon for me to walk out of a theater, but this was Dark Phoenix. I mean, she’s the X-Men character I identify with the most. I even dyed my hair like hers at one point (OK, I realize that could have been a mania…).
I went back to the 20mg of Latuda for a long time. But the odd thing about Latuda is what while it’s praised for it’s anti-depressant properties, it acted more like an anti-manic for me. Soon, I began to feel like the life was sucked out of me. I felt like there was no happiness in the world and I just sat there like a log, staring at the walls.
Vraylar
I passed out my first day on Vraylar (cariprazine) and woke up in a puddle of blood. My top tooth went through my bottom lip. Oh, and I also broke my nose.
The scar is still there on my bottom lip.
Next please.
Rexulti
I began taking Rexulti (brexipraprazole) with Khedezla (desvenaflaxine) after the doctor removed me from Latuda.
I didn’t feel any different. But I was pretty stable during that time. I did, however, develop a crazy over-eating habit.
Then, one day, I walked four miles through the city of San Francisco looking for a certain candy (ok, no not THAT kind of candy, even though I know you’re thinking it’s San Francisco).
When the Great Pandemic hit, I slowly weaned off the two medications and for much of the pandemic, I was without medication.
It took me about six months to have a manic attack again.
Eventually, I was put on Abilify
Abilify
Abilify (aripaprazole) was my favorite out of all the bipolar drugs. It’s a second generation antipsychotic. It targets manic episodes and eventually, I ended up pairing it with Khedezla for depression. Abilify stabilized me and had no side effects. I may have put on weight but then again, it could have been the parathas, burgers, and ice-cream sandwiches I devoured regularly.
In time, I was taken off the Abilify.
Today, I’m on Khedezla only. It’s an anti-depressant. Can I say that I’m not depressed? Hardly. I still stare at the walls. I refuse to go for walks or work out. I barely engage mentally with my kids no matter how hard I try.
I feel “blah”. I told the doctor and his response was that I’d feel a lot worse if I weren’t on the Khedezla. He said that my solution lay not in the drugs as much as in a lifestyle change. He encouraged me to find a counsellor. He told me that I needed to have a workout routine. And most importantly, he told me that I needed to engage with friends on a regular basis.
Conclusion
I’m all for bipolar and depression medications. But the answer doesn’t lie in the medication alone. And those of us who get dependent on the medication don’t have much hope because the medication is only one step to healing.
Just as my doctor said, it’s important that we find little joys in our daily life to supplement the help that the medication provides us.
It’s easier said than done. This is my first time blogging in months. Blogging used to be my source of joy. I’m in Montreal, where I grew up and I have yet to call any of my friends. And I certainly haven’t gone out to Mount Royal hit my 10,000 steps.
Mental health is a struggle and it’s a process. There is no one solution but rather, a collectivity of solutions that work in alignment.
