I had my appointment with my psych NP, Alex this Tuesday, and he switched me to the oral Invega!

Technically it’s the generic, Paliperidone, which is just fine with me.

He said the main reason he wanted to talk to me is because it’s a bigger change than I think.

I’m going from a very steady dose of medication that my body is used to, to having to take the medication every day, which just creates more obstacles for me.

And I get it.

I’m honestly kinda glad that he talked to me about it first because now we have a plan.

If I don’t like the oral form, or if for some reason it’s not working as well or whatever, I can be switched back to an injection.

And there is an injection that’s given every three months, which would be much more tolerable.

It’s nice to have options.

He just wanted me to be sure that this is what I want to do is all.

And I do appreciate that, as annoying as it was, it was the best move for me.

I took my first dose on Tuesday, and so far so good.

I’m really hoping that this is a smooth transition and I’m not setting myself up for failure.

I feel good about this though, so for now I’m good with it.

But I really, really, really hope this doesn’t fuck everything up.

If the tablets don’t work, at least I know that the injections are still available.

Having a back up plan is a great idea and I didn’t even think about that, but I’m glad to have it.

I don’t think ahead a lot of the time.

That’s something I’ve been working really hard on lately.

It’s tough because for my entire life I haven’t thought about my future because I never gave a single shit about myself, and figured I’d die before I’d hit 40 anyway.

But I’m still going, and now I have to change my attitude and behaviors around that thinking.

I have never planned for the future, nor have I really day dreamed about it either.

It’s scary to have it in front of me now.

I guess it’s more daunting than anything.

I just never expected to have to deal with my older self.

I never expected to be where I’m at now either.

There was this “death” quiz on The Onion (which is satire news and events) and it told you what age you’ll die.

I know it’s a fucking joke, but it told me 32, and I remember thinking that they’re maybe not wrong and that is a very definite possibility.

When I passed 32 years old, I was relieved, ha!

It was silly, but always at the back of my mind.

And every birthday that passes I’m more and more shocked by how old I’m getting.

I never in a million years thought I’d get this old.

Nowadays I’m actually trying to take care of myself when and where I can.

I’ve been watching a lot of the show “My 600lb life” lately and have realized that a lot of my struggle with my weight is because I lie to myself about my food intake.

I don’t mean to, I just do, and have for my whole life.

I’ve been calorie counting for about a year and a half now and it’s working.

I’m seeing the weight come off slowly and steadily, and even again now, after a standstill for around two to three months.

Losing weight is maddening and awesome all at once.

Food is everywhere and it’s necessary to survive, but not at the amounts I was eating.

The amount of food that is used and needed to fuel the body is a far, far, far less amount than what I was eating.

So much so that I now eat a quarter or less of what I used to.

My food intake was another situation where I never knew I could control it.

I never thought I could lose the weight, but I am now, slowly, and have been for over a year now.

It’s all a work in progress, including myself.

– Keren