1. Go into long term (6 -12 months) inpatient care in a hospital, not a care facility, so no laptop, no phone, no Kindle, only golf pencils to write with, constant forced structure, etc; and start taking Clozapine and finally admit that I am treatment resistant. Such a drastic measure because Clozapine requires frequent and constant blood work, and he doesn't trust me, with my agoraphobia, to go to the lab once a week. So it would be a full time commitment to my madness.
2. Go to the psych hospital for a couple of weeks and decompress while trying a new med, in addition to my maxed-out Seroquel dose. That is not practical. Someone has to keep the house clean and the laundry done and the pets fed. And I have other commitments that I have made, to myself and others, that I can't just walk away from for a couple of weeks.
3. Go home, try to stay in control, as long as I wasn't hurting myself. I told him about my promise to myself to get wandering cat tattoos on my arms over the scar tissue I already have, and how I can't make new scars because then I won't be able to get the tattoos. The scar tissue has to be as old as possible so it is no longer evolving. Not down enough to consider suicide, I still have too much I want to say and I am having a hell of a time finding listeners. So I am safe to be with myself.
So I took the stash of Latuda samples he had been hoarding since I started having symptom bleedthrough 6 months ago. My doctor doesn't want to put me on Clozapine. He doesn't want me to be permanently or semi-permanently institutionalized. He is my biggest cheerleader for my artistic endeavors. I think he mumbled something about not being desperate enough for Clozapine and something about Thorazine. That's a word I do not like. I've been given Thorazine as a chemical restraint. The zombies of the Walking Dead are more intellectually stimulating. And have a more stable gait.
So what are we looking forward to, Cyd?
- heat sensitivity (more)
- cold sensitivity (that's new)
- instant dehydration (not a problem)
- drowsiness (I'm always stoned, who's gonna know?)
- the inability to sit still (that should be fun with the drowsiness)
- cognitive debilitation (more, great, focused on memory and verbal communication, my weaknesses, I am now convinced I will never be able to speak to a fan face to face)
- And I have to take it with at least 350 calories of food.
Come to find out, I don't ever eat 350 calories of food at once. I had an egg sadnwich with guac, some cottage cheese, and mandarin oranges (not all on the sandwich). I had to keep finding things to eat while Doc kept a calorie tally.
This is really hard for him. He hates me with a burning passion right now. And it's going to be a couple of weeks on this med before I can come to him with my tail between my legs and apologize for my fucking illness, again. But I told him I trusted him completely today. So why was I such a cunt? I'm fucking schizophrenic! Yes, I take enough medication to down a stallion, but it doesn't down me. I didn't have to like trusting him. It went against everything I believe to be real right now. He doesn't get that. I don't know what to do with that. He deserves better.
So, how will this effect all the shit I've been planning and working on and talking about? Hopefully, it will make it easier, ultimately. There might be a couple of rough patches, I've still yet to find a suitable laptop. Doc got a cooling pad for this one. The laptop promptly overheated and laughed maniacally. Tomorrow, I start gingerly adding software to this machine, so I can try to get back to work. I wasn't having issues with overheating, it was just him, so I'm going to try. I've got a lot of bottled up emotion I need to let out. And I HAVE to get VLC player installed on here so I can listen to music. I discovered today that I have sorely missed music the past two weeks.
I also noticed today that my right ear was not designed to specs. The bloody ear bud won't fit in my right ear. It kept falling out. Bummer, huh? You go through your whole life, under the illusion that your ears are symmetrical, and it turns out they aren't. The world is a freaky place.