Once upon a time, in 2018.

(Update, 10/05/2021- I stopped taking medications in early 2017…

Also, there are a few errors I’m tempted to correct in the text, but nothing catastrophic…

I do not rigorously proof read the scribbles that end up on this blog, because it leads to wholesale changes or complete erasure… etc..)

I am recovering from quite a few things (aren’t we all?), too many things to mention in anything less than a book which I do not want to write. Most of the terrible habits, minus a ten-a-day cigarette habit I still seem to refuse to address seriously, are behind me.

I’m recovering now from mainly the many good experiences that have occurred in recent years. I would rather not go into what these good experiences are exactly, but I suspect they probably would have been a whole lot better and easier to recover from without the being drugged agsinst my will whilst I was locked up in hospital.

If I hadn’t been a cannabis smoker maybe the drastic shift in my thoughts and beliefs wouldn’t have happened so suddenly, seemingly all in one go, like they did in the latter months of 2016. I suspect that the crux of the problem with drugs like cannabis is that it seems to spoil something within that can’t be explained away by me, you, a doctor, a priest or anyone. Damn it I wish I could get out what is in my mind. . .

It astounds me to this day that I was aware there was something not right with me, I expressed it well enough on several occasions to at least 3 psychiatrists, I explained my cannabis use etc.. and they didn’t hesitate to coerce me into taking a cocktail of drugs with long lists of potential bad side effects in their own right, no explanation offered when I asked them what the potential side effect were of the combination of the dangerous drugs.

I did not receive ECG etc, no tests to make sure my vital organs were functioning properly- before or during being medicated.

On top of that, something that seems to annoy me the most, ha! I laugh, but I don’t think it is funny actually.  I was under instruction to avoid grapefruit. I have no problem avoiding grapefruit, in fact I have avoided grapefruit successfully for the vast majority of my life, but I asked the pill-pushing medical experts  what would happen if I went on a grapefruit binge, they just smiled and said they did not know.

I once had slightly high blood pressure a few years back, without hesitation the GP prescribed me statins (I think that’s what they are called), the leaflet that came with them said to avoid grapefruit too. Then a few months later I went to the doctor about being unhappy, and got referred to a young psychiatrist who was in a rush, who prescribed me with something that can raise my blood pressure. I asked him if it was OK to take with meds I was taking to lower blood pressure, he said I should talk to my GP, I talked to my GP who did not seem sure, referred to medi-google I guess, and said it should be fine. And the Quetiapine leaflet also instructed not to take grapefruit.

I’ve got off point there with my grapefruit fixation. But what other food and drink stuffs have the potential to interact with the drugs that are commonly dispensed to us with barely a thought or care for our long term well-being?

What did I do when my behaviour become strange and difficult for others to tolerate, especially by the people closest and dearest to me? I put my trust in the NHS.  I specifically asked for only very mild sedatives to help me sleep. I begged to not have to take medications, in hospital especially.

My only regret in this is that I should have refused to take the tablets. I know it would have resulted in me getting forcibly injected, but I feel rather put out that I was too cowardly to put up a fight.

I’ve gone off course here, it was my intention to delve into what being insane was like, at least what I can remember, which is actually quite a lot. I’ve just not got the vocabulary or necessary basic skills yet to explain without sounding completely insane.

When I am ready to describe certain things, it will be disguised as fiction in some way most probably.

What appeared so crazy to others when I appeared to be acutely manic by some psychiatrists, psychotic to other ones,  was only a little bit insane for me on the inside.

I am relieved though that at the time, I did not have the experience of a good education, at least that which is classified by the post-modern educators  as a good education these days. I’m glad I wasn’t more confident and outgoing when it comes to applying for jobs, and filling out university applications. . . .

 

God, I’m so relieved that I never owned a passport until 2017, that I had never decided to learn how to drive a motor vehicle.

I might explain why one of these days, to-day does not appear to be that day.