It went how it usually does.
Asking me basic questions.
Being surprised that I have a job. (This part never gets old.)
Ending with adding a new medication to my cocktail of psychiatrics.
This time, drum roll please, I get lithium.
I guess I've burned some bridges with my previous stints with the shiny, new anti-depressants like Celexa, Cymbalta, Lexapro and Zoloft.
Now I get stuck with the mood stabilizer from the 1800s.
|Not only was it popular in the 19th century, but it was one of the primary ingredients in|
'Bib-Label Lithiated Lemon-Lime Soda', more commonly known as 7 Up
I'm about 99.9% positive that my psychiatrist thinks that I'm bipolar.
And I'm about 99.9% positive that I'm not.
But never one to reject a chance to try out a new pharmaceutical, I suppose I'll give it a good two weeks and see if it has any discernible effect other than making me thirsty and fat.
Because that's what lithium is good at.
Making you thirsty and fat.
Oh, and fucking up your kidneys.
And... building up to toxic levels and, y'know, killing you.
So there's that.
But my dear psychiatrist thinks that I only need to be on a "little bit" of medications (which I'm sure is why I'm on the highest dosage of Vyvanse).
So my dosage should be low enough that it won't kill me.
And, in my opinion, low enough that it probably won't have any effect.
I guess we'll see.
Personally, I'm banking on this not working so that I can propose being put on Wellbutrin.
|For fuck's sake, Wellbutrin even looks happy!|
A bientôt, lovelies.