“This is your life… but you need to take Zyprexa” he says.
“This is your choice…. but you need to take Zyprexa.” he repeats.
“You can choose…but you need to take Zyprexa.” he assures.
I need to find a new pdoc (pill doctor/psychiatrist). I have no choice, not in his mind… what the hell is he thinking? Is this a joke to him? I will not stay on this drug. The side effects are not worth the pro’s of marginally calming my mania. It does not stabilize me. It will help me sleep at night, slow down my racing mind… but other, lesser evil meds, will help me do that too. I leave Dr. M’s office with a smile on my face, agreeing to follow his med plan-pretending again… this time to be the perfect patient. But now I am sitting here on my bed, needing to go to sleep, and my head is unraveling because I am suppose to take these meds. But I can’t make myself do it. I mean seriously, who prescribes Zyprexa to someone who has a history with an eating disorder. I try to explain, but he just isn’t listening. Asking someone who has struggled with anorexia to take this drug, infamous in the world of crazy, for weight gain – not a good idea. I don’t care what the scale says. I don’t care if I am on the lowest dose. Eating disorders are all mind games, and taking this med is like bringing out the game board again.
The pieces are setting up, and wanting me to play.
I want to scream until my voice doesn’t exist anymore.
I will not play this game again.