An Appointment

I went to the hospital to see my CPN this morning. She said I looked very tense and I told her some of what has started happening. She commented that I seemed slowed down and was taking a long time to put my words together. She notices these things, whereas I don't.

She said that there were three options. We could leave everything as it was, which ran the risk of things further deterioating. We could try another anti-psychotic, which would take time. Or we could increase the chlorpromazine. That seemed the best choice, so I'm going to start taking 150mg instead of 100mg.

She's going on holiday now so I can't see her until the 4th October, but she's going to ask another CPN from her team to call me next week to see how I am, and she's going to leave a note for my consultant in case she needs to get involved with my medication.

Waiting in the pharmacy for my prescription a voice suddenly piped up "That was an excellent performance girl. Well done, you've scored yourself some chlorpromazine". So that's screwing with me now.

On my way back I stopped in my own town. I really wanted to just go home but I needed some more cat food and I wanted to take back to the library some books that were no longer safe for me to read and pick up some about serial killers and the suchlike. Walking through the streets it felt as though everyone could tell what was going on in my head. I really hate that feeling. And then when I got to the library I couldn't get any books anyway because I couldn't afford to pay the fines on the ones I was returning. I hadn't realised how overdue they were. I did manage to find a couple of cheap ones in the supermarket but what I shall do when I've finished those I don't know.

So for now I guess the plan is the same: hunker down and try not to think. If I could decide whether I was ill or not it would make everything much easier, but I just can't figure it out.