The doctors are allowing me to stay with Sasha and Laisa for the 4th of July weekend. They don’t think I am a danger to anyone. I feel too sick to be of harm to anything. I need to continue with day treatment on Monday until my meds are fully adjusted. At least, I am not feeling psychopathic anymore.
The strip joint was not happy that I couldn’t work yesterday. Fortunately, one of my co-workers eagerly switcedh hours with me, so he could drive out to the lake today. I will work today, mostly because no one else wants to do so.
The doctor switched me from alprazolam to Invega, and from Depakote to Lamictal. My response to the new medications has been encouraging, but I’m feeling like I’m half-asleep regardless of how much sleep I get. There’s constant drooling and tremors. I’ve been rather heat-sensitive. My speech slurs. I must remind myself quite often that this beats having insane thoughts.
I don’t want to feel like this for Burning Man. I worked very hard on designing some kick ass playa art and I want to enjoy it’s destruction. I also would rather not DJ if I sound like I’m drunk. I think that I can swing it tonight if I keep the announcements short. I still feel extremely self-conscious about my voice nonetheless.
Sasha, Laisa and I are making some plans for this afternoon. A picnic would be lovely. Hopefully it won’t rain. I want to make the Cremora fireworks device I read about in Wired. Hell, I’d be happy with commercial fireworks. Sasha wants to be “patriotic” and “educate” people about being an American. He tries too hard to be a good little immigrant.
