No, I won’t do it. No way. Absolutely not. It’s just not going to happen.
Yesterday my P-Doc told me that she wanted me to enter a
Mental Health Residence. No. I won’t do it. No way. Absolutely not. It’s just not
going to happen.
Her reasoning was that because she has switched up my med
combos three times in the last month, and none of the cocktails are working,
she wants me under 24-hour surveillance so that other mental health care
providers can watch me and observe how I react to a new med combo.
Now, at first this might make sense. The residence houses, in addition to
patients, a couple of live-in psychiatrists.
Hmmm, OK, there’s definitely an environment wherein I can be
observed. However, what percentage of my
perceived behavior and reaction to new meds is actually based on my reaction to
a strange environment? Strange house,
strange bed, strange food, strange bathroom, and strange crazy people who are, like me,
doing their own crazy jive. And, furthermore, there wouldn’t be any of the
personal comforts I have to keep myself stable (or at least try to become stable).
My hobbies, my cats, my gardens, my pillow and blanket--even my chicken noodle soup and saltine crackers!
Just the act of taking a trip and being in a strange
environment is stressful enough to trigger a psychotic break. And, I’ve been directed to have no social
interactions for a while. So how would living
in a strange environment, socially interacting with strangers in a very
personal situation be conducive to stabilizing me? This, I simply can’t understand no matter how
hard I try.
The bottom line is No.
I won’t do it. No way. Absolutely not. It’s just not going to happen.
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