So. Life after a stay in the mental hospital has so far been a pretty unremarkable affair.
I haven't really gotten started on getting my life in order yet. One step at a time is the key here, people.
While I was gone, the IRS finally got up from their collective executive leather chairs and saw fit to process my returns for the years 2005 to 2007, and duly sent me a cheque for about $1,500. Just in the nick of time: the frames of my glasses had broken while I was locked up last week, and luckily they were still under warranty so I got them replaced at a 50% discount (still costing $90) and there was something terribly wrong with my car that I was able to have repaired at a cost of $500. What was wrong with it I cannot say; the receipt is in car mechanic code that is unreadable to me beyond general terms like "sparkplug" and "valve assembly".
New prescriptions from the doctor assigned to me at the mental hospital:
I think now take I take fluoxetine (Prozac), I've been prescribed, at one time or another over the past ten years or so, every SSRI on the market. It was the last hold out.
To counteract the severe withdrawal effects of coming off venlafaxine (Effexor), which I had to do suddenly, the fluoxetine has been pretty effective. The brain zaps and dizziness are all but gone—I thought, based on reading previous accounts, that I'd be experiencing withdrawal symptoms for months. Switching from clonazepam (Klonopin) to alprazolam has made a world of difference and people have been telling me I no longer slur my words when speaking. And getting rid of the ziprasidone (Geodon), well, I never noticed it having any effect on me whatsoever so its loss in my drug regimen is not a big deal.
Apparently it takes about two weeks for fluoxetine to fully kick in, so in the meantime I've been feeling kind of meh. Once I start feeling better in earnest, I'll start getting things done. I really hope it finishes its lead-in period soon because I'm sick of feeling so down. The lamotrigine alone isn't enough to help balance the ups and downs (particularly the downs) of bipolar disorder.
I've got to find a new psychiatrist; the one I'd been seeing before was a nice guy but he's also the person responsible for putting me on venlafaxine for a year, which is, in part, what led to my being institutionalized. This is harder than you'd think; you can't just pick one at random. That's what I did last time and look where it got me. So I'm taking suggestions from people I know locally. Hopefully one will see me sometime soon; one has already turned me down.
I'm writing this daylog now because I can't sleep. I've already taken my daily allotments of alprazolam and zolpidem and, though the temptation is there and is strong, I'm not going to abuse them. I'll just wait until the mid-morning nap feeling kicks in and then hopefully go back to sleep.
There's only so much one can take; being this fucked up is no fun. But at least I'm no longer suicidal, and that's got to count for something.