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Medical Update

Wow. The last two days and last night have been hellish. Yesterday morning was not so good, some delusions of telepathy and auditory hallucinations (voices), but it got better once mom got home and I was able to talk to her, and I was able to get some work done for the rest of the day. Then, after she went to work again for the night, it tanked and I got delusions and hallucinations back. So unpleasant, mega mind-wracking. Horrifying, at times. To not know what is real, to be harassed by imaginary demons, imaginary version of real people you know and love. Then, I had to drink coffee to avoid panic attacks I was starting to get while lying down horizontally for whatever reason, along with fear of heart disorder (disproved by medical examination in the ER about a month ago by some tests, so, what’s to fear?–but is fear ever logical?). I had to keep moving, to keep stimming with the caffeine and nicotine lozenges. I did not sleep the whole night and the whole night was a lucid nightmare delusion, so terrifying. The next morning, this morning, once mom got home, I felt very emotional and cried on multiple occasions while talking to her, feeling very afraid and panicked. She was able to calm me down to some degree. That, and, eventually, a warm bath with acne soap to help cleanse my skin. That was nice but didn’t seem to leave lasting benefits. I took 1 mg clonazepam to relax and it finally kicked in about half an hour ago, but lying down still triggers the heavy beating below my ribs in my chest. It’s such a nightmare. I also had somewhat of a manic episode this morning during all of this, responding to the previous night’s nightare with extra energy and positivity in thanks of life. That sort of went away as of now. So now I still can’t really settle down (akathisia (medical restlessness)) and I’m here! I find myself feeling very stupid, like I have the brain of a 5-yo and it’s hard to respect myself in any way for the way I think and behave, but I’m getting by. This is the first medically frightening incident in a while. Man. Anyway my new psychiatrist is still cool and I consolidated my healthcare professionals all to Walnut Creek, so it’s more convenient for them and me (though everything is still telecom or phone apt due to Covid). I messaged my psychiatrist about what’s going on and scheduled a first-time apt with my primary care physician in internal medicine next week. A pharmacist is telecomming with me the following Monday (two weeks from now) to see how things are going, and then my next appointment with my psychiatrist two weeks from that date.

It is mega consoling having everything scheduled and to be done with my previous psychiatrist, who I was paranoid of b/c I had delusions/nightmares that he had tortured me (palpably, viscerally)–horrifying–and b/c I was guilty that I lashed out at him in messages in writing. I sent him a final apology and note that I had switched to someone else just now.

I think things are improving but I am not going to even try to do any work for a while if at all today due to my poor state. Hopefully I can sleep tonight without any heavy chest beating and subsequent panic. I anticipate I will.

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I really love writing, though. I really do. But anyway. The poetry collective seems all but kaputsky to me, unless I have been experiencing schizoaffective time dilation again, wherein: a day is long and a week is an eternity and anything more than that is enough time for any project to simply die. I really wanted to keep it up, to publish on our Patreon and have like a monthly thing, but I don’t know if the folks involved are like, up for the production challenge. I am. I definitely am. But perhaps, as is want to be the usual case, there are more tasks involved in getting it running than I thought. But perhaps not, and I’m just perfectly right and all of us with all our mental illnesses couldn’t publish a flie squished under a penny. Ew.

Studying Django this morning. It’s so fascinating, how many factors it takes to publish a production-quality (whatever that means; it seems to be the lingo among professional web designers in any case) website. Back in the day all you had to know was a little HTML and cross-site injection. Har har har j/k. J/k! I said. J/k. I don’t know if you capitalize the ‘k’ or not. Belligerent father downstairs. Says I’m fat all the time. Whatabitch.

Well anyway, his heart is black, but at least it’s in the right place. Wouldn’t want to eat any of it as I would probably develop some form of cancer. Lukemia sounds horrid.

I guess I’ll try to write some poetry. Wish me luck!

~

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I’m going to start tagging my posts, not for any other reason than that I’m a bit lonely. Thank you to–

Nevermind.

So anyway.

Delusions in the morning! This morning! That people are attacking me! Wowza. Doesn’t normally happen till around afternoon-evening. So. I wonder if this 1 mg decrease of sisperdal is so nice after all? What a beautiful rhyme.

I–

Nevermind.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What a prick.

Still think it’s polite not to refer to other bloggers by name or call anyone out as it were. Possibly in good spirits but I think no one would want me to do that.

Hah. Hah hah. Makes me laugh dryly.

It’s stupid.

The SD card is still undergoing fsck surgery. Very cool tool, fsck. For repairing drive partitions. Very neat. Linux is so smrt.

I don’t know what else to say. I really want to talk about things, but it’s hard when you’re in solitude. More things I’m not allowed to say. It’s tough, being censored like I am.

Ah well.

Sorry for the short post.

More later.

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It’s Fun

Having a mental illness as extreme as schizophrenia (or in my case, schizoaffective disorder, to be precise), you start to understand, without being involved at all, why things like murder exist. It’s absolutely fascinating, the power of theory and experiential learning.

Basically being a psycho is less like being a murderer and more like being on a bad drug trip. Obviously if it’s extreme enough you could pull some sketchy or immoral shit which is justifiable to you, but most of the time you’re actually just suffering, “hallucinating” (and yes, there are some ambiguities to this term that I will discuss in the future), having delusions!!!, etc.

It’s FUN FUN FUN!

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Stasis Trap

CONTENT WARNING: Hate speech.


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A (distant) future in grad school?

I just feel kind of lost in life. My job’s not very fulfilling so I’m toying with the idea of getting my PhD but I’d have to study for the GRE and my attention span is not so good because of  my meds. So I guess it will just take longer, a little at a time. I think GRE scores are good for 5 years so I’ll have some time if I can just score well once. Too bad my original good scores expired. I can’t believe it’s been over 5 years since I took the GRE. Damn.

 

But yeah I would really love to do actual research instead of manual labor for a pharmaceutical company. It’s just a totally different degree of cognitive engagement. Academia is more engaging. But it has its cons, as well. Funding is competitive, as a professor. Money is short. I would also have to T.A. to fund myself, and my attention span issue there, plus poor motivation.

 

One possibility, and this is a stretch, is that if my mental illness gets better for some odd reason (off pot for long enough, possibly?), then I can get off my meds and my attention span and motivation will recover. This is a long-term possibility, thinking like years here. But it’s the best one.

What do you think?

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My psychiatrist said it sounds like I have mild akathisia. the need to get up and pace back and forth frequently. Mild “ants in your pants” (he likes that phrase, he’s so dumb). He always insists on categorizing things into extreme opposites. Why can’t he understand there’s a middle ground.

But yes, I do have mild akathisia. It’s not fun, having to move around so much. Screws me over at work, too.

Relief when moving.

And low dopamine from the antipsychotic leads to low motivation and difficulty performing normal tasks. Things are just harder for me.

How’s that sound?

What I’m really glad now about though is that I finally understand why I feel this way. It is a side effect of the medication. My mother and my psychiatrist and my  own logic all agree. There’s something really soothing in knowing.

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I really just want someone to talk to tho.

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Maybe the psychosis will just go away on its own.

You know what started it? Pot. I had my first telepathic experience on marijuana, and it was excruciating. I still get spikes of it from time to time.

If it IS pot, if I exercise enough the deposits in my fat should burn away.

Might also explain why exercise seems to increase symptoms, and not in a regular pattern.

I just want to tell my psychiatrist how presumptive and how much of a prick he is. I might drop him a note as he’s leaving Kaiser for UCSF in two months, at the end of his stay. Positive criticism, give him some personality stuff to work on.

Kratom never caused my psychosis. Kratom is a helpful plant. You just have to respect it and dose gradually.

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Now the TV is talking to me (from downstairs).