It is terribly frustrating. I feel like the meds have taken away something very valuable and important and refuse to give it back. Being unable to help or fix the problem is making my own moods cycle farther and farther down. It's like in exchange for preventing the situations that could kill us, the meds have sucked all the joy out of living.

Obviously I don't have the same kind of side-effect from my meds, for absolutely no reason other than biology, since I'm on quadruple his dose of Zyprexa plus a second sedating anti-psychotic. But I'm as alert, filled with thoughts, and paranoid as ever. The difference is so stunning I took Zyprexa from his bottle a few times just to confirm it was really the same drug. I guess I'm "lucky", much as I don't feel that way sometimes.