My doctor wants me to try a new medication. I researched and then sat down beside the cat to regain my equilibrium. I have been on a very low dose of antipsychotic [not ziprasidone] for five weeks now and have not been paranoid. I checked my archives and judge how I am feeling to be an improvement over where I was this time last year. I may not be as quick, but I'm not irritable in the way I was, not showing the kind of cognitive bias that becomes so all-consuming when I am ill (attributing to others my own exaggerated perceptions of negativity, poor self-awareness). I know how bad it can be when a drug makes things worse. I may or may not be writing longer sentences. I'm working on sentence length, ok? My short sentences are energetic sounding, whereas these things don't sound so hyper in my head. In my head I have edited my experiences down to their most enjoyable parts and relate only those. It helps mask the digressiveness of my thought process, which is always cluttering things up.
This slowing down is welcome but it might be a sign that I am gradually getting worse. It could be a sign that I am more stressed, or less stressed without the psychologist trying to rearrange my thought processes while I struggle to make sense. I wonder what it would have been like were he not so empathetic, had I had to try more to 'be with' someone, had I not liked to be with him so much it became difficult to try in any effective way. I'm trying to be kind to myself as I write this, trying to join up the ideas, to think about how I might want to present myself. That is either new or an old and established part of myself I've missed or a reworking of anxious thought patterns into something more helpful. Possibly the reason I like writing when tired is that my annoying little anxious tics become just that, and so easy to delete.
I've done the stupidest things I've ever done on this medication, but right now it feels like I might be getting on with my life.
12 hours ago