Did I just eat all that? No, really. Is it gone?

I've gained 50 pounds on Zyprexa.  I was 125, and now I'm 175.  I'm tall so it doesn't look too bad, but still 50 freaking pounds.  How long will this go on? My doctor doubled a prescription of a drug I'm taking that's supposed to supress appetite,  and if that doesn't work I'll try a diet drug that I haven't tried yet because it causes anxiety, and works against an antipsychotic.

I have a little tardive dyskinesia left over from last time I had a flare up.  The above video is how bad it was while I was taking .25 mg of Klonopin.  I'd been asked a couple times if I knew my mouth was twitching before I took the video.

Below is this is at lunch after taking .50 mg of Klonopin.

I had to put my dog Fender down because he hurt his back.  It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  The next day my sister in law took me to Davis County Animal Control.  I wasn't planning on getting a dog yet, just to see them.  But when I saw Gibson I knew he was the one.  He's the dog in the picture above.

Gibson is a sweet dog that get's along with everyone, even the kids that come over.  Which is totally different than Fender, who I had to lock up when people came over.  Gibson loves to play fetch, and have his belly rubbed.  And he likes to cuddle.

Getting a new dog was the right thing to do.  My sister in law was right to take me.  It doesn't change that I'm sad about Fender.  It just gives me a little extra room in my heart.

I found some papers from before I quit my job, and got on disability.  This poem was written  when things were bad, because I was so stressed out.  Anyway, judge for yourself.  There is no title.

There is a voice in the back of my mind
Whispering nothings into the air.
I only follow along,  because
I have no where else to go.
Do you think there are nothings
To whisper to the wind,
Or is nothing the strange netherworld
Full of promises often best forgotten
In the dark of the night.

If I told you the truth would
You believe me?
If I told you how close I've come
To Death,
You'd shrink from me.
I've stood on that precipice
Staring down into the wanderings
Of a mind stood still too long.

Do you think I'm lying?
Do you think I'd tell you
A distruth when I have now
Nothing left to lose?
I speak only whisperings of a thing
In it's honesty,
And shout meaningless phrases into the twilight.
Choose now which you will hear.
The other will seem strange
With the passing of time.



There are two more poems written at the same time as this last one.



The door is open on gentle hinges.
At any moment they might give,
And snap closed the plank.
To walk through that door terrifies me.
I fear for my well being,
For my peace of mind,
And in fearing make real
That very thing that I dread.



And the last one:



There are shadows in my head,
A mockery of fairnesss and understanding,
Too late to see the severed hand of love.
It lies outstretched but undone;
To twist between it's fingers
Now the cloth of ingenuity.

Do Butterflies Frequent This Garden

Have you ever promised
But lied,
Or maybe not lied,
But didn't follow through;
Which is kind of a lie.
If promises are like flowers,
Then lies are like those
Huge pitcher flowers,
The ones that smell
Like a rotting corpse,
Or maybe that's just the big lies.
Maybe white lies
Are just baby's breath.
No smell,
And they go along with everything.