*is a bad person*

January 8, 2011

A while ago I switched my antipsychotic medication from risperidone to aripiprazole in an attempt to stop my weight gain spiraling out of control. It didn’t. I’ve put on about 35 pounds over where I was happy, I know it seems a petty thing to complain about in light of everything else going on out there but it’s enough to tip me close to the edge at times. So I’ve stopped taking it. I know I should wait to speak to my GP but I’m not due to see him until the start of February and I simply don’t want to gain another 10 pounds in the time until then. I know this isn’t what I should be doing and even more so as a future pharmacist (fingers crossed), I should be setting a responsible example but it’s kind of done now.

I only take a baby dose anyway and so far haven’t noticed too many ill effects (other than chucking my crochet across the room in a moment of rage but that’s just because it was being incompetent, nothing to do with me, honest). And now it’s on to a semi serious attempt to lose all this blasted weight. Why is it so much easier to gain weight than lose it? I got EA sports 2 for Christmas so hopefully a combination of that and the occasional run will see me right.

This written while I’m sitting with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. *is a hypocrite too*


I hope I’m right

January 2, 2011

I got into pharmacy 🙂  This means that in about 9 months time I’m going to be a university student for the third time, seven years after I initially stepped through the doors of higher education. By the time I finish (if I finish), I’ll have been a student for 11 years bar time off for patches of complete insanity. Boyfriend is going to move with me and we’re looking at getting a house together (he works from home so can do that from anywhere).

A new life.

A new start.

And I am absolutely terrified. I’m coping remarkably well at the moment. My emotions are unstable as ever but I’m still clear of the depression and at least the rest of it is dealable with. But I don’t want to go back, in fact, I’d do anything to avoid it. I can never face going that low and that far-gone again. That’s why I’m scared. It was the pressures of university the very first time round, along with trying to hold down my first relationship that caused the initial forays into depression. From there it just got worse and everything that followed – the suicide attempts, the psychosis, all of it – spiraled from that initial pressure.

I only truly recovered to the stage I’m at now when I completely removed all pressure. Or more specifically when it all, even down to the most basic decisions, was removed from me and I was hospitalised. From there I’ve kept the pressure away and tried to live as low a stress life as possible but it can’t go on. I can’t just sit around on my arse for the rest of eternity, I should be capable of so much more. But when that pressure starts again…

I know I’ve got to try. I’ve generated an awesome opportunity for myself and I have to take it. But I have a feeling that if I fail at this then I’m running out of chances and places to go and that really is frightening.