Its been over a year since the incident.
We're sitting in the waiting room of a state mental institution. Its depressing
enough having to know that you have this condition. Having to sit here is making
it more unbearable. I have bi-polar disorder .. Manic depression or
whatever people call it these days.
Since the incident i have been sent here. Its a cold scary place. The hallways are empty and colorless, the doctors and workers walk around and talk to you without emotion and the general atmosphere feels like people have died there before. I'm at a state mental hospital because i am unemployed and having to find a job without good experience and online portfolio worth looking at isn't as easy as it seems. Maybe I'm being sinical cos im on a heavy downer at the moment. Listening to aunt ramble on about the things she finds wrong in other ppl is driving me up the fucking wall. She accompanies us on these trips. Probably the most judgmental person on the planet. Always saying negative things about other ppl, never says anything good about anyone, maybe i just don't notice ,maybe im just being a sinical asshole ,maybe im getting old... never mind When you're down you dont often find many positive thoughts about anyone or anything.
The doctor calls me and i walk in feeling nervous about the fact that i have to confess that ive smoked weed in the past 2 months. They've put me on olanzipine for what they think is paranoia and psychotic symptoms. I felt it was bullshit from the beginning as i am and have been on lamotrigine for a year now and i have seen some improvement in my moods and spontaneous emotional ups and downs. I tell him i stopped taking olanzipine because it made me feel psychotic and i was constantly having vivid thoughts of killing people. I'm talking people i don't know, people i just met and my own loved ones. I often woke up with extreme anxiety and depression. I stopped, period... Fuck that olanzipine bullshit. I tell him the weed helped me get through the pressure of the new medication and that i am seeing a counselor at a rehab clinic about it and that im going to get my life back together or die trying... And i dont feel like dying just yet.
Since the incident i have been sent here. Its a cold scary place. The hallways are empty and colorless, the doctors and workers walk around and talk to you without emotion and the general atmosphere feels like people have died there before. I'm at a state mental hospital because i am unemployed and having to find a job without good experience and online portfolio worth looking at isn't as easy as it seems. Maybe I'm being sinical cos im on a heavy downer at the moment. Listening to aunt ramble on about the things she finds wrong in other ppl is driving me up the fucking wall. She accompanies us on these trips. Probably the most judgmental person on the planet. Always saying negative things about other ppl, never says anything good about anyone, maybe i just don't notice ,maybe im just being a sinical asshole ,maybe im getting old... never mind When you're down you dont often find many positive thoughts about anyone or anything.
The doctor calls me and i walk in feeling nervous about the fact that i have to confess that ive smoked weed in the past 2 months. They've put me on olanzipine for what they think is paranoia and psychotic symptoms. I felt it was bullshit from the beginning as i am and have been on lamotrigine for a year now and i have seen some improvement in my moods and spontaneous emotional ups and downs. I tell him i stopped taking olanzipine because it made me feel psychotic and i was constantly having vivid thoughts of killing people. I'm talking people i don't know, people i just met and my own loved ones. I often woke up with extreme anxiety and depression. I stopped, period... Fuck that olanzipine bullshit. I tell him the weed helped me get through the pressure of the new medication and that i am seeing a counselor at a rehab clinic about it and that im going to get my life back together or die trying... And i dont feel like dying just yet.
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