I feel obligated to write an update here, but to honest, I am not up to writing much more than that at the present time. I'm not sure what exactly the problem is with my brain these days - other than the usual suspects - but I have not got much that I feel like discussing here at present. So, I will give some information on what has been happening:
-hearing double speak all day long, every day of the week
-having the feeling that I'm reading minds, and people are reading my mind
-having a lot of thoughts about the supposed delusion of mine regarding a present-day Holocaust occurring
-hearing people telling me, every day, that I'm going to be sent to a concentration camp
-hearing whispering voices when no one is around
and I'm a bit on edge, anxious, and randomly depressed at times.....
What I am doing to help myself:
-continue to take all medications as prescribed, and got my Risperdal oral tablets dose doubled
-therapy every week
-listening to music whenever I'm at home (if the TV is off) or in my car (luckily I have a computer that can burn CDs now, thanks to my brother who fixed it up)
-talking out loud to myself to get through difficult times and to process the information that gets confused in my head
-creating flower beds out of fake flowers for my balcony (since all the real flowers I've ever put out there have died due to lack of sun), so it looks better
-buying stationary and sending cards to people
-watching inauguration coverage (yay, we got Obama!)
-working 5 days a week (six one week)
-going to movies with a friend on the weekends
That's about it. As you may notice, there are some things I'm decidedly not doing. right now. I am going to start exercising again regularly, but I just haven't gotten around to it lately. I have been shopping a lot at discount stores and thrift shops, and I try to convince myself this counts as some form of "walking" - but obviously that is a load of crap. I don't really like the physical pain exercise causes me from my Fibromyalgia and various places where I have arthritis now, so that is my excuse, and you can take it or leave it. It's a lame excuse, I know. I regularly hear this from medical peoples.
So that's about it for the update. I will try to write something profound and prolific when it comes to me, if ever. Lately, it just hasn't.
I hope anyone who stops by to read this can forgive me for writing rather sporadically these days, and I hope you are doing very well.
The title of this post comes from the Prufrock poem by T.S. Eliot....and here is an excerpt from that poem ("The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"):
indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
-hearing double speak all day long, every day of the week
-having the feeling that I'm reading minds, and people are reading my mind
-having a lot of thoughts about the supposed delusion of mine regarding a present-day Holocaust occurring
-hearing people telling me, every day, that I'm going to be sent to a concentration camp
-hearing whispering voices when no one is around
and I'm a bit on edge, anxious, and randomly depressed at times.....
What I am doing to help myself:
-continue to take all medications as prescribed, and got my Risperdal oral tablets dose doubled
-therapy every week
-listening to music whenever I'm at home (if the TV is off) or in my car (luckily I have a computer that can burn CDs now, thanks to my brother who fixed it up)
-talking out loud to myself to get through difficult times and to process the information that gets confused in my head
-creating flower beds out of fake flowers for my balcony (since all the real flowers I've ever put out there have died due to lack of sun), so it looks better
-buying stationary and sending cards to people
-watching inauguration coverage (yay, we got Obama!)
-working 5 days a week (six one week)
-going to movies with a friend on the weekends
That's about it. As you may notice, there are some things I'm decidedly not doing. right now. I am going to start exercising again regularly, but I just haven't gotten around to it lately. I have been shopping a lot at discount stores and thrift shops, and I try to convince myself this counts as some form of "walking" - but obviously that is a load of crap. I don't really like the physical pain exercise causes me from my Fibromyalgia and various places where I have arthritis now, so that is my excuse, and you can take it or leave it. It's a lame excuse, I know. I regularly hear this from medical peoples.
So that's about it for the update. I will try to write something profound and prolific when it comes to me, if ever. Lately, it just hasn't.
I hope anyone who stops by to read this can forgive me for writing rather sporadically these days, and I hope you are doing very well.
The title of this post comes from the Prufrock poem by T.S. Eliot....and here is an excerpt from that poem ("The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"):
indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?