It isn't easy being blue...

I got into a conversation with my boyfriend yesterday about our psychiatric medications. In particular, the damaging physical effects they have on our bodies. The question I have is how could the FDA approve these medicines when they do so much physical damage? They can cause excessive weight gain, contribute to the onset of diabetes, cause cerebral edema, can f$#% up the QT interval of the heart, and I am sure my kidneys and liver aren't loving the meds either. Those are just a few. The biggie side effect that I am most concerned about is Tardive Dyskinesia. It is a potentially irreversible neurological disorder. It can cause repetitive involuntary movements of the face, tongue, lips, arms, legs, or trunk. I saw my own grandmother develop TD when she was put on the same medication I am on. She was constantly making a chewing motion, as if she was chewing gum all the time. It made it difficult to feed her when she was sick with Alzheimer's.

I answered my own question though, I think it's because they are desperate to keep us mentally ill under control. Benefits outweigh the risks sort of concept. But I often wonder if I am really benefited by being out in our society nowadays.

It is so hard to try and make it in this world when you have people telling you that you are not capable of working full-time and if you work part-time most of the money is taken away due to rent increases and loss of benefits. I am on disability by the way. I live at poverty level. I have a car, thanks to Mom. If I smoked I could not afford to have my car. But just living on disability with a car is a struggle itself. My free dial-up internet is now non-existent. I feel having my computer and the internet helps to keep me sane though, so I pay for the slowest, cheapest DSL. If my car were to need a repair, I would not be able to pay for it. I am lucky if I can save $25 a month. I would not have my own transportation if it weren't for my parents looking out for me. I have doctors literally all over the place. It is imperative that I can transport myself, as Medicaid will not pay for a taxi out of the nine mile radius. I cannot afford to buy clothes, or even shoes. Payless is a store that I now consider a luxury. My boyfriend gave me a $25 gift card to the food store so I could have food until my next paycheck as I only get $24 a month in foodstamps.

Once in a blue moon I go to the mall and walk by all these super expensive, ritzy stores. I see people walking around with multiple bags in hand. The only time I'll have a bag in hand at the mall is if it was just Christmas or my birthday and I was using my gift money. My family is middle class and can afford to give me some money at those times of the year. I know that I am lucky to have my family, as dysfunctional as they might be. My gift money often ends up being spent on gas for my car or food. I try to eat as cheaply as I can. I suppose I qualify for going to the food pantry. Maybe I will do that soon.

I applied for Section 8 government subsidized housing but I honestly don't think I could afford living there by myself. I could not foot the bills on the money I have now. I think I will always be in supported housing.

So, being able to get to my doctor appointments and having food on the table is always a worry for me. It eats away at me. As if having depression and schizophrenia weren't enough of a mind drain. I know I could be worse off, but I could also be so much better off. It is always an uncomfortable experience to attend family gatherings and parties. People always love to ask: "what do you do?". I can't even express how badly I'd like to be able to say I am working in some sort of job and actually be honest. Saying that I am out of work sort of kills the conversation. I suppose if I told them that I am mentally ill and/or on disability, that would kill the conversation also. The people that already do know about my mental illness often tell me that I "look good." They are not saying this because they think I am good looking, they are saying this because they don't know what else to say. I don't want their pity. I feel bad enough already.

Anyway, I've often contemplated being permanently institutionalized. I would not have to worry about food and getting to the doctor. There's a catch though, I'd want to refuse psych meds and ECT. I would accept the occasional injection of Haldol, as it is meant to be used- a temporary tranquilizer. Naturally, I'd have to be actively symptomatic to be institutionalized. Some people feel that I would lose all freedom. I don't think that way, I feel like if I were allowed to live off psych meds, and live with my illness, then I would be truly free. My body would no longer be poisoned. I would no longer suffer from the stress of being at poverty level in this society. I'd be with people like me. I would gain back some of my personality that is flattened by the antipsychotics and my artistic creativity. I know this because I went off of meds once in the past. I would gain back my emotions and not feel so numb.

I am not going to take that path though. I don't think I'd be allowed to refuse meds in an institution and I would lose the few people in my life that mean something to me. As tough as times may be, love keeps me here.