I smell really bad

Alright. This is the third time I have attempted to write this little document. I seem to be getting no further than declaring that the medicine I have been prescribed in an effort to prevent me from “losing my shit” so often, to use one euphemism is, honestly, not working.

Psychotropic drugs and dreams

I believe I mentioned it in a prior entry, but when I was last hospitalised against my will, I was prescribed with two neuro-active medications. These being Quetiapine and Fluoxetine.

More musings about hypoglycaemia.

I have a confession to make. I used to try to reduce my blood sugar as much as I possibly could before going to sleep in order to make it vaguely possible for me to even sleep. Ever sat up for hours at night with a feeling like your mouth is filled with vomit and the skin around your lips has become encrusted shit? That is basically the feeling I get when I lie in bed at night with a blood sugar even slightly to the North of 10.0 mmol/l.

I have had a rough couple of days… and some other things for your amusement.

Regular readers will have noticed a rather sudden break in the usual rhythm of posts on this journal, not with any warning or hinting. This is for a number of reasons, but I think it best to speak in generalities for now. I doubt that any people out there who write seriously (I might define this at another time) will be that surprised that I write in bursts. Whilst drop-offs in output like that which occurred this week are rare, they happen.