Get off the meds

I convinced the doctor with my super sweet persuasion skills to lower the dosage of my psych meds. Awesome.

I know better than to cold-turkey myself. That ends in certain disaster. And I’m certainly not in a place where even trying to get off the meds would be a good thing.
Not to mention, I’ll be on some of them for life no matter what. Who knows, I might be on ALL of them for the rest of my life. But hopefully not. Not if I can get my head together and replace them with things like yoga, meditation, etc.
At least I’ve come to the place of accepting that for now, they are a necessity for me. That’s almost half the battle.

And he’s all “I think we should boost your medication.”

And I’m all “FREAK OUT.” And I flat out told him, that I didn’t want to do it. I mean I have a hard enough time as it is, just with the medication I have. It would suck going up to a higher dose when I don’t even want to take them at all.

But whatevea’.

I just have to ask the doctor if that’s something we can think about. He’s an interesting fellow, Dr. Woolf.

I mean what is up with that? So I have to take a whole rounding of medication to keep my world from collapsing totally and have to stay on top of it and never, ever, even for a second forget that I’m different from people. Well, I for one would flaunt it. I’m proud of my mental health problem. Screw you.

Lunesta. That kind of helped me sleep, but I don’t need any help sleeping… just take the anti-psychotic and I pop off in less than an hour.

Not sure about the other meds. I’m starting to think I need them. So I’m pretty happy just taking them for now.

Because the medication is affecting everything I do, every facet of my life.