It’s been since November that I’ve seen my psychiatrist—too long. I’ve been halfway around the globe with my family and the COR-OH-NO! virus.
He had no problem that I had ditched lithium at the end of December. Too much diarrhea. 😆 Too much diarrhea in Rome.
So, I’m cruising on clonazepam, gabapentin, venlafaxine, and (as-needed) quetiapine. Quetiapine is the first antipsychotic where I’ve been voluntarily compliant with a compromise, and this has only been since early 2019. My doc is happy, and I’m riding hypomania, which I don’t want to wreck while I have it. It makes me productive, and helps me feel more hopeful about my efforts and the future. I know depression is coming, so why would I put myself in a mid-brain coma with a steady diet of 400 mg of quetiapine per day?
I’m pretty much all over the map emotionally, mostly riding the high-end, very excited and talkative, prone to fits of crying out of the blue, but still getting rest and not occupied with ruminations/etc. I’m emotional about Sunday night’s choir concert (with strings, kids on ukulele’s, and a couple solos like viola and piano), because it’s symbolic for me, especially with relentless anxiety/stress since September, which is now possibly fading a bit.
Speaking of diarrhea, please see my latest work post about Microsoft server architecture documentation. 😆