If anyone’s read over my last posts, you’d know about the antidepressant withdrawal and the brain tumour. Things aren’t getting better, it has been 8 months and my emotions are still numb. Then again, I haven’t taken any pills yet. The Cabergoline is still in its prescription bag, and the antidepressants too.
My issue is, I spent money on a Reiki Healer as I wanted some of my lost emotions restored. Instead she heals my brain tumour and claims it’s gone for good. But how do I know it’s gone without evidence in front of me? I’m needing another MRI for that, but the doctors where I’m from don’t give a shit about your wellbeing and wouldn’t even blink if you died thanks to their neglect. So asking for another MRI for reassurance isn’t going to happen, and I guess now I’m sat here wondering if I can take these meds.
I’ve lost the fucking plot anyway. When’s the last time I was bothered enough to eat food? Yesterday mum commented on my hands looking more skinny than usual. Eh, I didn’t even realise. Weren’t my hands always boney? That isn’t anything new. Then again, she might be right. My arms are getting skinnier.
Fuck if I have any emotions it would seem like I’m enjoying this. I’m reaching a point where I’m so numb and cut away from reality, that even eating doesn’t feel real. Like I’m separated from even needing to sustain nutrients etc. That I could simply survive without them, but obviously nobody can.
Yes all of the above sounds insane, that I’m losing the plot. I am, but I’ve still got some coherence left. The sense that if I don’t take my brain meds I’m not going to recover and if I don’t eat my body isn’t going to have the energy to fight.
I’m pushing myself towards suicide though. Really, imagine dying this way. Weakness, collapsing with exhaustion. Even my iron is low. I think. I haven’t even taken those iron pills, I can’t even ask if I still need them. My GP scares me.
When my prolactin levels shot up she didn’t even seem to care. Just said, “oh your prolactin is slightly elevated” and left me to it. I had to chase HER up to give me the results and all of a sudden she asks if I’m okay with an emergency MRI.
See? If I died she wouldn’t care. Lol. I’m just a stranger, a patient, a little money maker after all. She isn’t obligated to care. Doctors don’t have to have any empathy.
Whatever. Oh well. I’m dead. Can barely write, think or feel. Anyone remember DuringMyDarkestDays? That was me. Hello. We had some good times together. Too bad I forgot my account password back then.