I don’t get it. near 20 years of narcolepsy and things aren’t improving.

I still live at home, with my mom. I had a job for the last two and a half years but I was fired when I requested some time off for mental health treatment (I also have Bipolar I, and was undergoing electroconvulsive therapy).

now I have nothing. just me and my Provigil and host of drugs for Bipolar (Lamictal, Klonopin, Caplyta, Prozac) and some other drugs for hypertension and asthma and… Xywav. it works great. too great.

my life absolutely sucks without Xywav. I don’t like taking more than I should, but I constantly find myself microdosing it just to feel ‘numb’, or ‘high’, or whatever you want to call it. anything to serve as an escape from my shitty life. I wake up every.single.morning. and think, yep, today’s the day. my last day on Earth. but I can’t do it. I can’t do it to my family, or my brother, or my dad, or most especially my mother. I can’t do it.

I’ve never actually taken so much Xywav at once that I knew it would kill me, or come close to killing me, but the day is coming. I was once a bright young man with a good university degree and plans for the future. that was twelve years ago. now I’m stuck shuffling between endless doctor appointment after endless doctor appointment, in a small town in Michigan, caught between two maladies that are at complete odds with each other. by some cruel twist of fate, yes, I legally am prescribed uppers, downers, stimulants, sedatives, benzos, antipsychotics, antidepressants… half of which just work against each other. I have tried and tried to reduce them to a manageable level. this is what I’ve got left.

I guess my point is, fellow travelers—what keeps you going? I’d imagine for some of you it’s the ecstasy of the manic highs. well, that just fucks with my sleep, and my sleep disorder. the rest of the time I’m so low I can barely get out of bed. and my mom’s a good help, but my dad and my brother both think I’m always just “one bike ride away” from being “cured”. their understanding of narcolepsy (and Bipolar) is childlike.

I don’t know what to do. I really, really, really don’t want to kill myself. I also see absolutely no point—none—in prolonging this agony any further. help.