witchalicious

it’s 8a.m. and my head is a bit clearer. three nights ago, I encountered a dangerous medley of naturalism and medical treachery. I fell asleep without my seroquel. [oh dear, what can the matter be . . .] as of the night after, I attempted to lower my dose to 75mg, as recommended by my doctor. last night I went to 50mg, and now, since 6:30a.m., I am awake due to co-habitant shifting. I’m not as drowsy as per my usual, but that’s not always a sign to jump for joy. my eyelids are heavy and sore; I probably haven’t slept enough hours, again. what’s funny is, I either sleep too much or sleep too little. thus is my life. I saw my doctor this past week; I had been waiting on a blood test for my tegretol levels in my bloodstream . . . he told me 30 was good enough, but I wanted to increase it what with all my feelings of instability and all. There is only so much I can blame on hormones dammit. and anyways, I know for a fact that adults can be given up to twice what I am taking. an optimum level is 25-51. you know, sometimes doctors just don’t really care. uh huh uh huh here’s your pills get out. see you in six months. 
I need more coffee. honestly, he thinks I am dumb. but I have read half of the literature in existence since I have been diagnosed and I am highly intelligent. just because I have a mood disorder does not mean I am dumb or a non-person, as so many people may think. I hate stigma and stereotypes. you know what’s so funny and ironic, one of my ex-best friends dumped me right before my diagnosis when I was having a hard time and her mother was schizophrenic and she made this goddamn short film about her mother’s life and I narrarated it for her. it even got accepted into the film board and she acted all like ”I respect these types of people so much” and “I’m so compassionate” and then she goes and ditches me for SHIT. that I don’t respect. I even went to the woman’s goddamn funeral with her. the world is full of hypocrites and every one of us will wake up one day in our lives and get slapped in the face by someone we thought was our confidant, our friend for life, someone we shared everything with. I lost too many friends because of this goddamn stigma. too many people have too many opinions that I don’t need. don’t you think it’s hard enough dealing with the fact that you have a chronic illness for the rest of your life? I’ve had “friends” tell me I’m just not trying hard enough, that I should ”snap out of it,” “grow up,” and to “stop being weak” by taking pills. now in my mind, that is sick. to abandon a friend in need and not even admit that you just can’t handle a serious life issue is weak. but what’s funny is I will only get so much stronger from this, as I have already, and rise above to my calling, finally getting to where I need to go; where I want to go. I’m a talented beautiful young woman and even though I don’t always believe that I know it inside, through all the nights and mornings and days of pills, through the haze of sedate, glazed eyes and endless moments of mindless stupor. I know I am alive and I will triumph. I just have to tell that to my face.