Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Medications and every day life

Every thing I read online keeps saying, "stick with it, when you find the right medicine combination you'll feel amazing!". I have been through the ringer with medicine for the last 10 years. They keep screwing with it now, I swear if I ever find the right combination I'm going to be 150 years old. It feels hopeless.

Right now I am supposed to split up my Seroquel and take some during the day. This is not possible at all. I've had the trifluoroperizine dose increased and I am still seeing a guy outside my window with a knife. The prazosin was increased to help deter the dreams even more, and I'm waking up wondering how I got back home because I was obviously at school picking up books on genetics. Obviously Julia just told me Henry is going to school in Rockford with their little baby, why isn't she going along?

I'm tired all the time because sleep brings no relief from my daily trials and tribulations. On top of that the medicine does nothing but make me pass out.

I'd say the worst, though, is the paranoia. It's never stopped. My therapist said I need to decide what behavior I want to modify and that is enemy number one. I'm convinced someone else would be better for Terry, that he really should have nothing to do with me. That my friends should want nothing to do with me. I want to slide into a life of nothingness, no people, no animals, no me, to protect myself and everything around me. Slowly my thoughts are turning back to everyone being better off without me. Slowly the idea that I need to find an escape is creeping back into my life. Enemy number one is these thoughts. They need to be purged and when I'm so tired from the medicine I don't know that I can make them go away. Though, that tired nature means I probably won't have the energy to act on those thoughts, it really only takes one burst of energy and one well thought out plan and it will be done. Unfortunately, it would likely be without warning. I can only hope that burst of energy leads to a phone call instead of action taken. There is really not a guarantee  that will be the case. So, enemy number one must be fought like hell.

And maybe someday the therapy and the medicine will do their job. In the meantime I am continuing to stumble through life, school, and trying to get my head on straight. Hoping like hell that my short term disability will see this as enough to pay for my time in treatment.
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