I am a deflated version of my former self. The hypomanic state I used to rely on has been medicated out of me with Olanzapine, topomax, and Cloazepam. Where there was once supreme confidence, now anxiety rules. Each day I struggle just to get kids off to school and myself to work without a paralyzing panic attack. But I am not manic. I don't self medicate with alcohol or coke. I don't spend money I don't have, or behave like a porn star, or lie. I have given up feeling invincible, managed to keep my job. I rely on my husband to reassure me that everything is allright. This must be a mistake? He is trapped in this disease with me. The confident, sexy, over-the-top, take charge woman he knew is shattered, left to rebuild everything on a foundation of pills and pdoc promises. He doesn't love me this way. He is my soul mate and he doesn't love me unless I'm sick.