The Physical Effects of Antipsychotics

Antipsychotics make me feel like a different person.

In the best way possible.

Bet you weren’t expecting that one!

Or maybe you were.

I have never had good side effects from a medication.

They always cause me intense weight gain.

Fogginess.

That gray feeling.

Until Invega Sustenna.

I have had no weight gain.

My blood pressure is down.

Physically, I feel more in tune to myself.

Shit, I can even smell better now.

Or rather start to smell.

That sense has always been very dulled in me.

I’ve always had problems with it.

Things taste better.

The Medical Assistant that I get my injections from warned me that food may start to taste really good.

She was so correct.

I can taste ingredients in food.

And the whole.

Like a cookie.

The butter and the cocoa and the granular sugar.

I could taste all of it at the same time.

I can’t tell you what it was before.

But it was not close what it is now.

Everything is just delicious.

Textures aren’t bothering me as much.

I’m having less headaches.

I can even breathe better.

I can fill my lungs to the top.

And empty them too.

I can breathe solely through my nose.

I can feel where my soft palate needs to sit in order to sing properly.

I know that may sound out of place.

So let me explain.

It’s fucking game changing.

I took classical voice lessons for around ten years.

The last few years were on and off.

But from age fifteen to around twenty five.

I sang.

I would leave my lessons feeling ten pounds lighter.

I would leave filled with an air that made me untouchable.

I would feel good, if not great.

Every time.

My instructors name was Fay.

Wonderful, charming as peaches, Fay.

She was hilarious.

An amazing and accomplished woman.

She taught me how to sing.

Not just a tune or song.

But arias.

I learned how to belt and feel through the music.

There was a technique Fay called “the witch”.

It’s a way only she can describe, of singing through your nose.

Well, more using it to heighten your cheeks while you sing.

It’s a feeling more than anything.

I can still see the hand gesture she’d use.

And I could do it wonderfully when I was young.

I’m not normally one to brag of myself.

Or ever really think positively of myself.

But singing has been something I am good at.

I have been good at it my whole life.

I just get it.

And Fay knew this.

A lot of her students were like me.

Many of them were better than me.

But I could still hang.

I’ve always been proud of myself for my singing.

So, you can imagine my distress when, about six years ago.

I lost my voice for a little over a week.

And then I couldn’t get it back.

After that my tessitura wasn’t the same.

My break was a lot bigger and covered the most middle notes on the treble clef.

It would almost hurt to sing after that bout of sickness.

And Fay always told me to never sing if it hurts.

You can cause permanent damage that way.

And lose it forever.

So, I would hum what I could.

For years I did this.

It would drive me up the fucking wall. 

Not being able to sing anything without these horrid breaks was torture.

Not being able to really sing.

Only being able to hum or mouth the words to songs, was awful.

I could plug out a lower tune on a good day.

Make myself feel a little better.

But I was nowhere near my normal soprano range I had trained so hard for.

Well, I’m gonna tell you, this is the big part of the reason why I’m infinitely grateful for antipsychotics.

Invega gave me my voice back.

That middle treble clef break was “released” a few months ago.

I could hit a high A again.

Nothing hurts anymore when I sing.

Nothing feels pinched or strained.

It’s just back at it!

Fucking hell! 

How fucking awesome is that??

Thank YOU, Invega.

This medication is giving me back things I thought were just gone.

It felt like this phlegm.

This block of tissue that wouldn’t let me sing.

Just.

*bloop*

Vanished.

I have absolutely no idea what actually helped me place my soft palate in the right area again.

Besides my Invega injections.

Because I couldn’t do that the past six years.

Then suddenly, a few hours after, I think it was my third injection, I could fucking sing again.

My instrument lined up like I was riding a bike.

The break went away almost completely.

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

I never told anyone that my voice went away.

I was devastated about it and didn’t want to talk about it.

Surprise surprise!

Shoved it down to deal with it never.

And just hoped it would come back one day.

I’m so grateful it did.

It’s curious.

I was so down and out for a few weeks.

Getting my injection helped snap me back this month.

I know some people have horrible experiences with antipsychotics.

And I did too.

Until I found the right one.

This is just how I feel.

Thank fuck for antipsychotics.

– Keren