Fortunately lamotrigine trained me in advanced acid reflux, so clozapine’s little onslaught hasn’t been too terrible, except for the night it made me puke a couple of times. See, usually those are the sort of details I blog, for my own record of it all and the very welcome fact of your sympathy and empathy about it. I haven’t been whining as much lately though, because disclozapine has been sedating me in ways seroquel can only dream of. My days have been two thirds coma and one third agitated as fuck.
I saw shrink one the other day, and as my voice slurred strangely, she said, “ah, hypersalivation,” and yes folks, that’s another lovely side effect. When I examined what afternoons on clozapine have been like, she said,
“should we consider admitting you?”
“what for? ”
“to contain you.”
Pfffft. I happen to know that ward 13 is full, never mind the fact that… Ag. Stuff. Metaphorically speaking, I have a far nicer padded cell in the form of my dog and my house.
So the workaround is splitting the dose of clozapine and using the prn sulpuride in advance of the afternoon agitation. So far so good, the downside being nasty RLS at odd times of the day.
200mg down, another 150mg to go, and then ECT gets scheduled.
Boring. So much about bipolar is so fucking boring.
True dat sista! Why couldn’t we have a more exciting condition, like, ah I dunno… Being “normal”? I don’t think they have a pill for that though…
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I’m deeply suspicious of ‘normal’; I blame it for a hell of a lot of the world’s troubles……
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I agree 100%
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It isn’t even a pretty word to say. Normal. Pfft.
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It’s a fucking munted word.
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And world too.
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Oh yes! In-fuckin-deed.
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I think the only time I liked anxiety is when I was afraid of getting eaten by a grizzly bear; made sense, then; kept me sharp, alert, cautious. But anxiety plus boredom? Not my favorite never never land. Can’t even, in this subarctic cold, hear Pan distantly piping. All my best, Blah. Hard days here, too. Hope hard to come by. #tribe-love.
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Sorry to hear it man, I really hope things improve for you. If I trip over any hope, I’ll send you some.
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Hope they get your meds figured out. That sounds awful.
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Hey there, I’m beginning to wonder whether they ever get anyone’s meds figured out.
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I was pretty good for about 8 months. Probably never see it again though.
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8 months out of how many years of your diagnosis?
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25 years of actual diagnosis, but had it all my life. Didn’t try meds till 25 years ago.
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What is going on? Have you become treatment resistant? Why are they giving you schizophrenia meds? ECT? and what is RLS? Dear Blah, I’m worried about you, please let me know. And I am sending you hugs and unicorn poop! xxxooo
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There’s some evidence for clozapine monotherapy as a sensible option for bipolar treatment – yes I’m treatment resistant, but I could’ve chosen different drugs to try at this stage. I’m fucking sick of it all though, so when shrink one suggested deploying the big guns, I replied the equivalent of ‘bring it the fuck on’. My quality of life is shit and I don’t have much to lose.
Lol unicorn poo……
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I hope it works for you. Best, best wishes. 🦄
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My meds have made me zombified. Yay. And numb accept for grief sadness and heartache-the songs of my people.
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Meeeeeh…. I don’t want you to be a zombie – although I guess they’re actually pretty good at caps lock… BRAAAAAAAINS!
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HAHAHAHAHA!!! I prefer my brains with fava beans and a nice chianti
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*runs away screaming like a girl*
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Wait! I didn’t mean your brains!!! I’ll eat them with orgasmic chocolate rolled on the legs of lesbians and drink a nice Malbec!!
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It’s only boring when we’re stuck in these ruts indefinitely. However, we are NEVER boring when compared to others – the “normal” ones. THEY are the definition of boring:-)
So glad you’re still around!
… Writing about current language trends – “Containment” and “Hyper-Salivation” – that keeps psychiatrists in business.
This is the FIRST opportunity I’ve had in the past 18 months to take a look at other blogs I’ve followed but been unable to “follow.” – You know what I mean:-)
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Oh I love your normal/boring comment :D what a great way of looking at it. And I totally get it re following blogs, I’m failing to keep up at the moment. The flesh is willing but the mind is weak sorta thing.
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I don’t know what to say. In a perfect world, appropriate psychiatric care, at the level needed would be there when needed. Barriers are high, waiting lists absurd in most places, especially where private care is unaffordable (i.e. there) or not available (i.e. here). It almost sounds like your litany of med cocktails has become but a tangled web, unfortunately not a unique experience. My wish would be a breadcrumb trail out of the darkness for you with the turning of the calendar and some semblance of stability with limited chemical intervention.
I know that since I added the complication of a pulmonary embolism to my mental health and hormonal regime, setting up pills for the week is a major task, and some pills are to counter nausea from other pills – and I discovered, to my dismay, that I can’t do without them. Yuck!
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I so wish you didn’t have the extra physical complications, it’s just not bloody fair. If I suddenly become wealthy, I’m buying you a ticket to get here by boat, so there’s no chance of any evil embolisms.
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Be sure to throw in a handsome and witty cabin boy, it is some long boat ride from here to South Africa!
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Cabin boy, masseur, pool boy…. All the boys.
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Came online in an attempt to research what-the-hell on my reckless, wanton irritability lately surrounding my most recent mad-med change. Started updating myself on your blog (instead of searching for non-existent answers to questions I don’t even know how to ask yet) and remembered, oh! that’s right. There are others out there.
I’m not happy you are suffering. I wish none of us had to endure. But I’m also at the same time not sad that I’m not alone. Lots of double negatives happening. Sort of a description of my attitude about life at this particular moment in time: double negative.
None other than fellow bipolar folk can truly get it. And alot of times, the words don’t even have to be there – it’s so simple, yet so difficult to describe accurately. I really rely on your blog and others who write about their illness to keep me checked in reality and not bat-shit crazy again.
If I were to say anything important in this comment – it would be to sympathize AND empathize that Imreallyeffinsickofthesemedchangesandallthisdancingaround and that I sowishIcouldjustcatchabreakinthisnonsensethatismybrain. In fact, I’d like to take this moment to just express a sentiment I’ve been sitting on since yesterday to say: “Hey, Brain. Stop fucking with me, would you?”
Peace.
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I wish you weren’t going through it either, but yes, if anyone has to go through it, at least we (the collective tribal bipolar we) are in good company.
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<3 Oh, Blah. Just posted a Bauhaus for you. Did it BEFORE reading this post, too. Wish to fuck I could take some of your nausea for you. And some of your sorrow. I'd carry it gladly.
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You’re very kind, beep. Brb going to your bauhaus now xD
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Dunno what to say. Wrote a whole lot, then deleted it. All seems a bit pointless really how does one comfort pain and sorrow? I still haven’t figured it out. I’m thinking of you though if that makes any difference at all. I’m sorry you’re in pain Blah…..
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Yes, of course it makes a difference, nana. Same as you and the venlafuckxine ne. It doesn’t solve the issues, but it does make it less lonely. Hugs for you.
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VenlaFUCKxine – you are brilliant. Had a chuckle…thanks. And hugs for you too
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