Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Defeated. Forlorn.

This morning was my shot (50 mg). I wasn't going to take it feeling so much better on just the 2 mg pill -- less groggy, more alive. I hid out in my house nervously smoking cigars, drinking sodas, and unplugged my phone to stop the incessant ringing instigated by my father. My father soon arrived from work angrily and fuming, and told me he would not buy me groceries, would take my camera away, would cut off my electricity, and end the Internet if I didn't take the shot (I am not joking or kidding or trying to be dramatic!). He basically told me I was going to have to starve to death and I told him that was against the law -- that legally he couldn't do that with my disability allotment. He didn't listen. He was leaving to go get all those things cut off when I acquiesced. He drove me down as I felt defeated, forlorn, and I bent over and got stuck in the posterior full of anti-psychotic medication by a lovely and beautiful young nurse named Rebecca.

He is going to talk to my doctor tomorrow about another drug he wants to try to "calm me down." Ristoril? (sp?) I don't want any more medications and the doctor will prescribe it. I won't take it, though. He can't force medications down my mouth unlike the injection. I feel so trapped. I don't know what to do. I am not very assertive and it takes all of my being to say a meek "no!" which is ignored.

I feel better writing about it though. Writing sure has been the finest form of therapy I have found -- much better than the $90 dollars I pay a week for a therapist. I won't let it get me down! I will soldier on with the help of positive thinking! I'm off to take some photos before all that medication hits me and I go to sleep for the rest of the day. Such a high dosage makes me feel so groggy since I am way past due for the injection having come down from its effects.

I feel embarrased about this post. I don't mean to always write of drama, but this is my life. My reality. And it helps me to write about it openly and honestly. I hope you don't mind, and don't think the worse of me. I know some of you are probably growing tired of all this shit. I am too! I just need some friends to talk to -- to express myself. To not feel so alone in all this. Let me go slink off and lose myself in my creative pastimes.

4 comments:

Ryan said...

Ouch, that doesn't sound too good...

Eric said...

Perhaps you could write a letter to your doctor about your concerns. You can be clearer, more assertive, and that might make it easier when he wants to talk to you about the problems.

happy homemaker said...

Oh Andrew I'm so sorry! I know what you mean about not being able to get more than a meek "no!" out when trying to get your point across as I'm no better at it than you!
I agree with Eric about writing a note to your doctor voicing your concerns about the medications and your predicament with your father. Maybe he can help you come up with a solution!
Solider on my friend and know that I along with many others here are thinking of you!

madamspud169 said...

Have you ever considered printing out your blog each appointment and giving them to your doctor?

He would be able to understand how you are and what is the best course of action much easier.
You write so well and eloquently that it may be a better option than trying to find the words in an hours appointment.