Mike O said:
Jetrell Fo said:
Mike O said:
Abilify is up to 10mg. The doctor said I can experiment a little with the Klonopin. My mother is a nervous wreck about sucking down there psychotropics. The side effects so far-fatigue and soreness-suck, and the intrusive thoughts still sort of come and go. I know, it’s been a few days, be patient. But fuck, it’s hard. My fat butt has gained a little weight too, and unhealthy. To be fair, all it does is rain; I may excercise if it ever warms up. God, this is hard. I’m scared of the drugs and the side effects, but when they help even a little, I want to say “gimme more.” Klonopin is a Benzedrine, and I’m really scared of the prospect of addiction. I just want to be fucking normal again.
I don’t see that you’re “sucking” down the psychotropics. You are taking them as prescribed which would be in a timed fashion per day. As for the exercise … there is plenty you can do at home when weather is inclement. If you are truly worried about the Kolonopin then maybe you should just ask for something else due to your fear. As long as you respect the medication and only take it as prescribed you should not be worrying about something that might be helping you.
I’d like to ask what you consider “normal”? Maybe understanding the actual goal you are trying to reach would help your parents and those of us that support you do so better.
“Normal” would be back to the way I was before this happened. With my faith cracked, I don’t know if that’ll ever be possible again. Ever. I’m concerned about the side effects too, sleeping all day and this endless exhaustion. I’m going to tell my doctor about it next time I see him. But then we’re back to square one with the medication roulette. I’m see the actual diagnosing psychologist in a few weeks, so it’s not like I’m relying solely on medicine.
Warning: rant coming. And a long one. Got into it a little bit with my mother last night. Since I’m sleeping too much and frequently lethargic, my mother is upset, and so is my dad, that I’m on too much medication and I’m kind of becoming a zombie. Now, they have a good point. And I’m currently questioning if the medication is helping as much as it should. But I think that they think it’s just my depression, and they both have that. It’s not. It’s also this pseudo-OCD, and I can’t talk to my mother about that at all because of the religious nature of it. It takes time for your body to adjust to medication, and medication has side effects. I get that. And I’ll be honest, both my dad’s doctor and my psychiatrist scare me a little. I’ve never been assertive with authority figures. And the medicine does help. Sometimes. Somewhat. They don’t know how I feel. And it does take time for your body to adjust. But I’ve had that time, they argue. And given that it’s been months, they aren’t wrong. But in a way, I think I secretly like it. Sleep is the ONLY respite I get from this. So if I’m sleeping more, what’s so wrong with that? Other than, you know, sleeping my life away and wasting it. It’s hard to see any further into the future than the end of my shift at work with the condition I’m currently in. I’m just SO sick of fighting. I don’t have the strength to do this day after day, this isn’t much of a kind of living.
“You’re on too much medication!” She says. She’s probably right. I don’t know anymore. But this is a constant battle. Like they said, I’m going to have to exercise every day, work at this every day. Medicine isn’t magic. There’s no simple solution. This just came out of nowhere a year or so ago, prior to which I was fine except for my frustrating inability to move forward with my life. Now there’s this mess. And it’s just not getting better. I say I’m trying. Am I? I am, but not as hard as I should. But that’s hard. It’s hard to fight and live like this every fucking day. I need some way to stabilize it and control it. I’ll never be back to normal. My faith is too cracked now, and too much damage has been done. But maybe I can repair something and try to regain what’s left of my life, rebuild it somehow. But that’s sure a lot easier said than done. It just seems like a no-win situation.
What’s most frustrating is that with my brother’s wedding coming up, my mother is almost angry with me. She insists that I’d better smile through the whole thing, horrified a single picture will really show me, and wants me walking every day because of the damn weight gain she’s alleging she sees from the medicine. I bluntly think this is pretty unfair. I’m hurting. I hurt a lot. And she’s concerned about how I look in public? It’s hard enough to function at work. I’ll be honest, I’m a little bit angry with her that she so damn concerned about public appearance that she isn’t necessarily taking my feelings into consideration as much as she should. Or least is much as I think she should.
I do have one or two questions if you’d consider indulging me. What exactly were you like before you really noticed the change and what do you believe actually tipped the scales and caused the change that is affecting you?
I am sorry that your parents may not be taking this as seriously as you obviously would like them to be. You want them to be parents and not critics. It can be difficult considering the religious factor and maybe whatever their upbringings have brought to the table for them. We ARE here and we ARE listening. Please keep communicating with us as you can.
We support you Mike.