not tonight clozapine

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.


So yesterday was therapy (how not to attempt suicide during the holiday season) and blood tests (how to find skinny veins) and more meds (yes alright, tonight clozapine). Although she doesn’t want me using other meds unless it’s crucial, I’m now OK to use sulpuride prn to help with the recent, intense rage spikes in the afternoon. I’m on 150mg clozapine, halfway to the goal of 300mg.

I’ve never encountered this response to clozapine before.

I asked Dr Google and indeed, irritability seems to be an uncommon side effect. Maybe it’s from having stopped the lamotrigine, chlorpromazine and sertraline. Maybe it’s the time of year. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a bipolar person who’s usually grouchy anyway, changing meds at the end of the year. There isn’t a trigger, I am the trigger; there’s always something to fire at, after all. Apocalypse any time you like, baby. So far I only went a little bit Fight Club on myself once.


Ag ja fok wat.

My default is to isolate myself and I know I’m already on that well worn road. Safer, innit.