Off My Meds

I’ve been off my meds since Thursday, when I discovered I’d run out of Zoloft. Friday was a bit of a mess, to put it mildly. Fox came over and we went to my local pharmacy – I had missed calls from them, which I thought were letting me know my prescriptions had been refilled and were available for pickup. No, they were refill reminders. I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with the situation that day.

On Saturday I brought my rats to the vet, which basically ate up the whole day. I felt tired and disengaged even when spending time with people I care about. Sunday was my first opportunity to refill the meds; I put in an order online intending to pick it up later the same day. The pharmacy closed early because it was a Sunday. Boo hiss. We were up late last night, so we slept late, so we’re sitting here in our pajamas being internet zombies instead of doing useful things like getting the drugs my brain needs to function.

I hate meds. They make life too complicated. Yet another thing to remember and have to deal with random strangers in order to maintain. I’m tempted to just go off my meds and have one or two daily doses of ZooBorns instead. The adorableness is much better at getting me out of my own head, energizing me, and helping me feel happier than meds will ever achieve. And it’s educational: there are adorable photos of babies from species I didn’t even know exist!

Having Fox around more will help too. Mom officially agreed to his request to move in. So, we only have a few more weeks of the instability that drives the Deserter crazy. Then … well, everything comes with a cost. I don’t know what the cost of Fox moving in will be yet. I just hope the benefits outweigh it.

Yuck. I feel like crying but I probably won’t. I feel like going back to sleep. I need to call the vet because one of my rats isn’t using his left hind foot. I’m not sure if it suddenly started yesterday or has been gradually developing and just became more apparent than ever when I took him out to play. I’m dreading trying to explain the situation, making (and later keeping) another appointment, and the bill … ugh, bills! Why me?

hmmph. It’s time to get back on those meds. Even if they’re not quite right, they seem to be better than nothing – especially if I manage to take them with some semblance of regularity. If I’m taking them, I can give my psychiatrist something to work with. If I’m not taking them … well, we’re all wasting our time and money.

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