Of course, utopia means "nowhere", and this will have to end. I keep thinking about that. What I've inside somewhere kept wishing for I've finally gotten- its too bad things had to get so bad that I'm finally getting help. Who knows how I feel. They keep asking me and right now its pretty good. But I do keep looking out the windows and thinking about flying down. And I do keep thinking about knives and bottles of pills.
A co-live-in, got mad at me at dinner tonight. She said I sneezed and didn't wash my hands. Maybe she's OCD who knows. I told her I'm not sick and she didn't need to worry but she didn't care. Truth is, I have allergies and just sneeze umpteen times anyway, but she wasn't worth my time. It did make me wonder how often the "inmates" fight with each other, though. Haldol all around. lol
My new med, Topomax, is being titrated- i.e. adjusted upward little by little. A friend asked me why they can't just let me go now. I don't think that would be a good idea because when my regular doctor put me on Saphris, I called and called about side effects, as you've read, and things just went down hill. So I think they're taking it slow. There certainly is no utopia in the land of behavioral pharmacology. That said, I do feel better inthat I don't want to cry all the time. The images and thoughts just won't leave my mind. They just call to me. And honestly, I don't know how much things will really, really change when I get home. They are supposed to have a meeting with my mother at some point, but I just don't believe it.
The rabbit is headed through the colored flora toward the Mad Hatter's place for a while. He's brought his Skittles.
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