So, it's 1:15AM. I'm about to down my night time prescription cocktail. 250Mg of Seroquel, 40mg Lexapro. Which equates to 5 pills. Why not 2? God only knows... Sometimes I think they want to see how many pills they can split 2 medications into before I freak out. But I digress.
Well I'm sitting here reading through the forums and I'm thinking how many tempers are in the same boat as me. It's a fleeting thought, because I'd rather not ask and in the process out my self as the “crazy.” That's harsh I know, and that's what spurs me to give it further thought. Before I know it I'm stuck contemplating two logics, somewhere between Blake's “Shame is pride's cloak” and Pascal's “The only shame is to have none”. Then I wonder if maybe there's some temper who thinks themselves “crazy” because they take pills to maintain in a less than sane world and maybe they are far less forgiving of self transgressions.
So, this is it: bare. Hi, I take medications for insomnia, obsessive compulsive disorder and last but not least: mild psychosis. In addition to the 250Mg of Seroquel and 40mg Lexapro that I take at night, I am greeted by a bit of Wellbutrin in the morning, a pick-me-up if you will. My life resembles a roller coaster of sorts, for months I can function at near genius levels. 3.8 GPA, Honor classes, offers to study abroad, awards and so on and so fourth. But relapse is never too far off, I crumble inward like a building being demolished. Some times this results in the changing of my medications. I never play around with that gradual reduction bullshit. If the doc says I need a switch then I go cold turkey. Withdrawal is in essence, suffering incarnate. I have came down off of medications cold turkey, that doctors have likened to the withdrawals felt from heroin. These are my worst weeks and months. I am paranoid, my blood itches (hard to explain), sometimes I hear voices and a darkness swells in my chest nearly uncontrollable. But I maintain. Then I rebuild. That's my life and without a doubt it will continue to be; a cycle of highs and lows strung together.
You may wonder if perhaps this is a joke, I assure you it is not. What preceded is my attempt to vanquish the part in me that says “no don't post that.” I believe that a man is only as genuine as his vanity will allow, so I present this as proof of concept. My hope is that it might resonate with someone else on the board, someone else who's closeted a part of themselves out of fear of being branded.
Well I'm sitting here reading through the forums and I'm thinking how many tempers are in the same boat as me. It's a fleeting thought, because I'd rather not ask and in the process out my self as the “crazy.” That's harsh I know, and that's what spurs me to give it further thought. Before I know it I'm stuck contemplating two logics, somewhere between Blake's “Shame is pride's cloak” and Pascal's “The only shame is to have none”. Then I wonder if maybe there's some temper who thinks themselves “crazy” because they take pills to maintain in a less than sane world and maybe they are far less forgiving of self transgressions.
So, this is it: bare. Hi, I take medications for insomnia, obsessive compulsive disorder and last but not least: mild psychosis. In addition to the 250Mg of Seroquel and 40mg Lexapro that I take at night, I am greeted by a bit of Wellbutrin in the morning, a pick-me-up if you will. My life resembles a roller coaster of sorts, for months I can function at near genius levels. 3.8 GPA, Honor classes, offers to study abroad, awards and so on and so fourth. But relapse is never too far off, I crumble inward like a building being demolished. Some times this results in the changing of my medications. I never play around with that gradual reduction bullshit. If the doc says I need a switch then I go cold turkey. Withdrawal is in essence, suffering incarnate. I have came down off of medications cold turkey, that doctors have likened to the withdrawals felt from heroin. These are my worst weeks and months. I am paranoid, my blood itches (hard to explain), sometimes I hear voices and a darkness swells in my chest nearly uncontrollable. But I maintain. Then I rebuild. That's my life and without a doubt it will continue to be; a cycle of highs and lows strung together.
You may wonder if perhaps this is a joke, I assure you it is not. What preceded is my attempt to vanquish the part in me that says “no don't post that.” I believe that a man is only as genuine as his vanity will allow, so I present this as proof of concept. My hope is that it might resonate with someone else on the board, someone else who's closeted a part of themselves out of fear of being branded.
