I Need My Pills!
If I ever believed there may come a day when I would no longer need to be medicated for my B-Polar disorder this week has proved the fallacy of those beliefs. It has been just a little more than one year since my doctor put me on a regime of Lithium and Prozac, the double barreled shotgun of mental health medication. They are ancient, venerated, powerful, and oh so fucking effective.
I think that it is safe to say that this past year has been the happiest and most productive of my life. I also think it is safe to further say that my “Better Living through Chemistry” has had a lot to do with it.
Not to minimize the effect of last year’s “Scorched Earth” avalanche of blog essays.
I have never been without my meds since they were prescribed. This is a very important thing that you need to, nay must, remember. It is very easy my friends and enemies to become used to living normally. It is so easy that when I started feeling like my old bad self again it was horrible.
My medication ran out on Sunday.
I had requested a refill through my normally reliable pharmacy five days earlier. There has never been a problem getting my medication in all of the years that I have been having them filled there and I never expected that there would be.
When I called the pharmacy on Friday I was informed that there had been some kind of screw up. Honestly the brain dead jack hole I talked to never gave me a clear answer. The end result was that I would not be able to get any meds until I spoke with my doctor. My doctor’s office does not take request for refills from patients only from pharmacies thus leaving me in the proverbial pickle. I already had an appointment to see my doctor on Wednesday so I figured I could just tough it out for three days.
Boy was I wrong.
On Monday I was a little antsy. On Tuesday I was feeling irritable and having trouble sleeping. When I woke up this morning I was ready to rip my own skin off, attack the neighbors, take over a radio station, and declare myself the Lord Valley. The begin demanding tribute and sacrifices from all.
So I felt bad.
When I arrived at the doctor’s office this morning I was not well. When I told her what had happened she called the prescription in immediately. After leaving the office I collected my bottle of precious’s from the pharmacy and took one.
I feel better now seven hours later.
So let that be a lesson to you boils and ghouls, if I am off my meds stay away or be ready with the stun guns!