Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Kept quiet

I didn't bother to tell the pdoc much of anything today. I told him I feel like a fucking zombie, which I attribute to the medication, but not much else. I know he's running out of ideas for things to try, which I think is why he wants to talk to my therapist. So since I'm not experiencing any of the side effects like dry mouth or constipation, he upped the dosage of Nortriptyline to 100 mg for the next week and then up to 125 the week after. Then I'm supposed to call him and let him know how I'm doing.

It's a catch-22...take the meds and be a zombie or don't take the meds and take my life. Neither one seems to interest me at the moment which I suppose could be construed as a good thing. Though the ex pointed out that by being a zombie, I'm not going to make any progress in therapy. So I'm fucked no matter what I do or at least it seems that way to me.

It's a never ending cycle of hell on earth. Someone please shoot me now.

1 Comments:

Blogger James said...

This catch-22 is some how supposed to be a "decent life" for us mentally ill according to our doctors. We are zombie's who are totally non-sexual but HEY!!, at least we are still alive, right??

Blah.

I think I'd rather go with zombie right now since it just kind of numbs me out and I can just kind of "check out."

Hang in there.

1:03 PM, August 31, 2005  

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