How am I feeling now, after a few days of the new meds? I don't know. I think I feel kind of flat. I haven't had a suicidal thought lately, and I've even stopped researching it. I lost interest. Isn't that funny? I lost interest, like it was some sort of neat path I could be researching. Bored? Hey, let's come up with ways to kill ourselves! Like a game that I just stopped wanting to play. How bizarre.
Do I feel better? What is better? Not being suicidal is better, I suppose, but what have I traded it for? I've traded it for the incredible urge to eat and the feeling that my stomach is being twisted into knots. I've traded it for the cold sweats and the urge to vomit, which comes in waves with the sweats. I've traded suicidal thoughts for physical pain. A good trade? You tell me.
Before, I was scared. I never knew when the thoughts were going to come. Everything was dangerous because everything can be used as a weapon. Now, I'm just getting fat, which makes me depressed, and my brain hurts. Physical pain for mental pain.
I know when I see Julie on Tuesday she's going to go through the list of depressed or manic characteristics to see where I am. But I wouldn't have any idea how to answer. I can only focus on my physical feelings right now. And maybe that's the trick of big pharma. The meds don't make you less manic or depressed, they just make you so physically sick that you can't even think about how mentally ill you feel. Smooth move.
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