(no subject)
I am almost off risperidone now (down to 1/4 of a 0.25 mg tablet), and down from 8 to 7 mg Abilify, and I am not that well off. Maybe better than I was on more risperidone, but not very good at all.
Boredom is such a fundamental part of my existence. I don't know how I make it through a day. I just sort of waste time. I want to engage, I want to do something, I want to find something interesting. But instead I waste time on social media or the computer in general. Or else I force myself to do something "useful", like doing the dishes, although often I don't even have the focus or ability to elucidate a goal like that. Or I go out with Mark to buy groceries. Or I try to interact with my environment - pick up an object, look at it, put it down, etc.
I realized recently that what I need is to reestablish interest in something. Like read books, write, watch videos, develop hobbies. At least starting with reading and writing. And I am trying. I read Tranquil Prisons by Erick Fabris, Reimagining Crisis Support by Tina Minkowitz and Beyond Mental Health: Voices and Visions of Madness by Will Hall. Circumstances would dictate that I had a lot of motivation to read those books, and I made it through them reasonably quickly, but I don't feel that I comprehended very much at all. I wasn't reading so much as voicing the words in my head - they weren't sinking in. I feel like maybe I got a few small phrases to add to my existing repetitive narrative (yes, I am aware that I am stuck in a repetitive narrative all the time), but as far as fundamentally affecting or changing me, no. Nothing does that.
I took a few books out of the library too, books I randomly discovered with a search. I was trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, but I lost interest about 100 pages in. Have also been trying to read Masters of Bedlam, which is about the history of "mad-doctors" in the 19th century, but I think I will give up soon because it's dense and only makes elliptical reference to how the patients were actually treated. There is a children's book about early settler homes that is very mildly interesting, and I just read one version of Chief Seattle's speech, which was at least short. One novel was a no-go, the other one looks potentially good except for my inability to concentrate.
When I try to concentrate, it's like my mind doesn't really want to go with or stay with the words in front of me. I have a lack of focus, a lack of interest driving me there. I want to give up easily. I have to force myself to finish an article or just sit with a book, even if I don't actually read it. Like somehow the action of sitting there is a stand-in for the actual behaviour of reading. Like if I could just discipline myself enough to sit there with the book, I'll be able to discipline myself enough to actually read.
I also have to discipline myself to watch videos, even movies that are supposed to be engaging. I end up looking at my watch over and over again, or telling Mark that we will only watch 30 minutes a day. Nothing sucks me in. It is like I am always outside of everything. Not quite comprehending, definitely not feeling it.
The past month or so, I also stopped writing so much on Facebook, and started to write in a document on Google Docs instead. My thoughts are still repetitive and empty, but at least I am just journaling them instead of sharing them with people who don't seem to have anything to tell me anymore. I'm tired of exposing myself for no return.
The past few days, I might have had a few mild emotions. I felt a little bit of positive emotion at a synagogue service last Saturday and I felt gratitude when a man gave me his seat on the bus that night after a drone show at the Forks. But the drone show did absolutely nothing for me. I was completely uninterested in it. Even paying attention to it seemed taxing. I suppose the past couple days I might have felt things akin to worry or anger or sadness, if mild. And I still periodically have two "automatic" thoughts that pop up, also as stand-ins for actual thoughts; "I'm a loser" and "I'm not a loser". The thoughts I would actually have in response to things are obscure. I can almost reconstruct what they would be, after I try to interpret what the "loser" thoughts might actually mean.
I've started going to online support groups lately. One for those thinking about reducing meds, one for bipolar and depression, one for "mad" people that is more of a discussion group, and I went to a webinar the other day about applying the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities to the issue of forced psychiatric treatment. My challenge right now is to try to listen to other people and let their words actually sink in and mean something to me. I still can't have a proper reciprocal conversation where the things someone else says spark something in me.
I've also been seeing a therapist. I've seen her maybe 4 times now. I am not sure if she'll be able to help me in this state, though.
I just wish I could report something new or different, in some fundamental way. This is slightly better than before, but it's still chemical suppression/restraint/detention. The control of the mad by the sane. Leashing.