----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- miniatures I am anxiously waiting for the pharmacy to bring my new medication. They usually wake us up, but it's after 2PM now and I am wondering if it isn't going to be delivered. The old man that usually delivers the drugs not only bangs on the door like a cop, he opens our screen door and knocks on the inner door, which to me is incredibly incredibly rude and is very triggering to me. The only reason we go through this specific pharmacy, is because their coupons are much much much cheaper. So, when, for no reason, your pharmaceutical insurance gets cancelled, or there is a lapse between contracts of the old insurance and new insurance and you have to pay for your drugs out of pocket, it's best to be prepared and have your medication at a pharmacy that is more affordable. And they also deliver for free, even though it's not totally reliable. You always end up getting it, but sometimes you have to call, sometimes they forget, etc... This country is pretty fucked up that you have to plan for the worst even though you have insurance. You never know when it's not going to work, or it's going to change. Pulling the rug out from under you while you are already going through drug withdrawal because there was a delay in getting your drugs just makes the world even more topsy turvy. I am undecided about the drugs. All I know, is one of the only true regrets in my life is trying medication. It turned me into someone I wasn't supposed to be. And I'm still struggling with that, even 15 years after taking it. Part of me thinks it's a road that I can not divert from. The damage is done, and now I have to follow a path that isn't particularly appropriate for me. It probably doesn't make sense. I have not been very good about putting my feelings or thoughts into words. Medication fucked me up, and damaged my brain and my soul and I am terrified of taking it again because it so completely off-set my life. You could say ruined, but I'm not dead yet. It didn't help with what is was supposed to help with. The only thing it helped with is switching my mis-diagnosis from Major Depressive Disorder to Bi-polar when the medication made me manic. I walk around the yard and watch all the trees and shrubs I planted over the last two years growing. The roses we transplanted are all putting out new shoots. Transplanted lilies are popping up. The pussy willow has the cutest little flowers on it and the forsythia bushes have at least a couple flowers each. The weather has been awful. 80 degrees one day, snowing and below freezing the next, but things are growing any way. It's a small joy. 2:25 PM - Tuesday, Apr. 19, 2022 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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