The Medicine Merry Go Round

“I think you should stop taking it if it’s not working. Slowly decrease the dose and wean yourself off it”

” I’d like you to increase the dose, to the maximum, over the next few weeks”

The first is my psychiatrist

The second is my neurologist

Talking about the same drug.

Is it working ? . May be. Do I feel better ?. Not exactly but the pain is less sharp.

Has my headache gone ?. No, but it’s less obvious and now feels more like someone pressing hard on my forehead.

“I’m going to prescribe you a new drug, at half dose. Let’s build that up”

New drug. Overwhelming nausea. I mean overwhelming. Constant grittiness. And a dry mouth like I’ve sucked the Sahara dry, mouth.

So many drugs. So many side effects. So many conflicting side effects. Off one, on one, up a dose, down a dose.

Do they work ?. Obviously some work on things I can’t see like my blood sugar or cholesterol. Some are designed to reduce pain.

Then they give you diarrhoea, sweats and nausea in return.

I have no idea.

One says one thing, another says something else.





Round and round we go.

Like a Teddy Bear,

One step, two step,

Who’s vomiting over there ? ?.

I know, I know

I know..

I meant to be more proactive. Then they increased my meds.

Result. Welcome to Fuzzyland, the land where everything is soft, but not in a nice way. Soft as in a sickly sweet, nauseatingly gooey way; a way which envelops you and makes the outside world indistinct and dream like.

You might think that actually sounds okay but when you are Autistic and thrive in being in control, it’s not.

I panic. I tremble. I find myself fighting the fog. I don’t feel how I expect to feel. I feel nothing but a creeping numbness around my mind and a strange tingling, a bit like a field of shimmering energy, surrounding my body.

And that’s not nice.

It just increases the lethargy.

I’m already concerned about my weight increase and this just makes things worse. I just want to eat rubbish and do nothing. But that’s not true either.

I want to go out. The sun is shining. But my partner won’t go out and i gave no real escape, nothing new in this small town. I’m tired of retreading old paths on my own so the thought of activity is semi there, partially hidden by the fog and then overtaken by unhealthy eating. Again.

I’m diabetic. I shouldn’t be doing this but I am. Eating the wrong stuff. All the wrong stuff. Because I don’t have the strength to eat the right stuff. Whatever that is. I don’t know anymore.

So, I’m sorry. Again. For not blogging.

I will. No, I won’t even promise anymore.

I may. No, even that’s too much.

I hope. Better. Hope to write again. Soon. Something soon.