I know I was in some sort of psychotic episode the last week or five because now I don’t feel like I have anything to say.

I feel boring, bland.

I feel dull and uninteresting.

I feel like I have nothing to say and even less to write.

I did hear some voices yesterday evening and the evening before for quite a while, so there’s that.

There’s been very little break from them.

I feel like I’m chasing them again with the meds.

Like I wish I didn’t have to be on so many different kinds of medications.

I’m feeling deflated this week.

Like I haven’t had any caffeine today, but I have.

And I think some of it is from being on Haloperidol again.

I had to take another one today (it’s Monday) (and then again on Tuesday)

(I don’t think anything will ever take my symptoms away totally)

Even when it’s prn (as needed) it still really comes with some fucking annoying side effects.

High blood pressure, weight gain, increased sweating, high heart rate, dry skin, dizziness, headaches, fatigue.

There’s a whole list of shit that surfaces when taking intense medications like antipsychotics.

Paliperidone, the other antipsychotic I take, has a long list of possible side effects and interactions.

It messes with certain parts of me pretty bad.

Lately my sweating has been twice as bad as it normally is.

(I know it’s summer but damn)

But the outcome is to be more stable mentally, not to dwell on the less important, random things it sparks up (however annoying they may be).

The Haloperidol has a list of side effects and interactions too.

Most of the time they honestly don’t bother me though.

Or maybe I try to not let them bother me because of the benefits.

For the most part I don’t have an issue with them (or at least I don’t complain about them) because the main effect is working beyond anything I could have ever wished or expected or imagined.

The clarity, the lessened hallucinations and delusions.

The ability to think outside of myself.

The extremely lessened amount of voices that I hear every so often now, as opposed to constantly.

I have never felt like this before in my life.

I’ve never felt so put together and un-rage filled.

So, calm.

I’ve never felt this secure of myself either.

I’ve been feeling this way since being on the antipsychotics and no other medication has given me my life back the way they have.

Well, they took several months and several kinds to kick in, but when they did, it was game changing.

So in a way I feel like talking about the side effects is bashing this wonderful life they’ve given me.

And then I remind myself that two things can be true at the same time.

I am very grateful for antipsychotics that work, and I can hate what they do to me all at the same time.

Well, more than two things can be true at once because as grateful as I am, the emotional dulling effect that they have is terrible too.

And the fact that I have to rely on a fucking pill to make me “normal”, that sucks too.

And then at the same time that fact that there is a pill that exists to help me be “normal” is amazing.

See, I’m all over the place.

Trying to reframe it is crucial for me though.

And I think the biggest thing I don’t like about my antipsychotics is that I have to take other medicine to counteract the side effects of them.

That’s probably the biggest downfall of all.

But I’m sure I’ll be off my arthritis medications soon – there’s three of them.

Not because I want to but because I cussed out that office manager the other week.

Fuck.

I just shot myself in the foot what that is all.

But whatever, I can’t change it.

I can just hope that they refill them.

Because those meds don’t have any side effects. 

They’re only helpful.

But antipsychotics are a different breed of prescriptions.

My psych NP did say that the Propranolol beta blocker I’m on for my high heart rate and blood pressure is great for anxiety at higher doses.

So he said he may take over prescribing that if my primary care doctor has an issue with upping it.

So there’s that too, but that’s the med that I have to take because of the other meds.

Stupid.

Like fighting fire with fire.

Or like trying to put out fire with gasoline.

It’s funny because I don’t remember what all the voices told me to do while knee deep in psychosis, but now I really don’t have that constant narration any more.

They just pop in and out now.

Much more random than before, not like they’re ever predictable.

And that’s one of the great (and shitty) things about antipsychotics, the dulling effect.

As much as they may annoy me sometimes, and as much as I can’t seem to get up before 10am, the benefits outweigh the costs.

I’m not going to villainize my tools, that will only play into a delusion or hallucination down the road.

So I’ll stick with reframing for now.

– Keren