Drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs

Yes, indeedy...where would we be without the good old pharmaceutical companies looking out for our mental health. Administering to our every schizophrenic whim, conceptualising our various phycoses...

I've changed my meds recently as the previous post explains. The following is a bit of whimsy that is firmly embedded between the succulent thighs of reality.

Here's how I see it..

****

It's the bee's knees

I’m on a new medication

apparently the old one
wasn’t up to the job
out of the ark, really
I mean Prozac’s
been around forever.

my pragmatic doc
assures me that these
new ones are the bee’s knees
even if I indulge
in a few daily beverages
now that’s really good news
and they seem to be working fine

my only problem now
is staying awake long enough
to go to sleep

Cooldragon
24th December 2006 ©

Back to the wall.......

Yes, it's back to the wall today. Changed meds a few weeks ago, and yesterday had them reduced slightly. Great, you might say. Less drugs has to be better, right? Well, tonight I'm wound up like a clock spring, tight and tense. Everything aggravates me.

Is it the meds, or am I just losing my grip? Or am I just pandering to my weaknesses?

Who knows... not even the Wonder Woman doc here does.... I'm of a mind to get shot of the bloody things altogether and go back to the good old days when I was occasionally suicidal, but WRITING! I don't wish to be as calm as a cabbage or as level as a lemon. I have no libido, no attention span, I'm always tired and have no desire for anything at all except quietness and space. A lot of space...

I'd rather have a shorter and more fulfilling existence than a lovely long life with lashings of lalalalalala.

I'll think on that. Meantime, I'll have another double rum.... just in case.

I want to be fat, don't I?

Yea, well.... week two (or is it three) along the new anorexia trail
and I'm all hanging out behind like a dog's arse. At first I strode out,
determined not to let Shortarse get to the predetermined lamp post
at the far end of the bay first. That lasted two days before my back gave out.

Yea right...

But true. Honest injun. I do have a lower back "issue" probably resulting
from years of motorcycle racing and having consenting sex in the back
of a 1937 Morris Eight. Whatever.... The fact is that a one km flat out walk
leaves me in considerable pain. What a bugger, eh?

So now I stroll along the beach looking for driftwood and NZ kauri gum (amber)
while Herself JOGS along the road. We meet up at the half way back point, and
I hand over any treasures I've been lucky enough to find. Part of the deal.

I've slipped back into old habits as quickly as a fox on the trot. I still go along,
but "the back" is my out for anything strenuous. I'm a weakling, I know, but
it can't hurt to let Herself have the limelight, can it? She deserves it really...
Of course, now I have to drink all the grog because that's on the prohibited
list for her now.

Maybe fat is OK after all...