The Bloody Doors Off

Despite my threats yesterday, I took a lithium this morning.

Same issues.

Spoke with my psychiatrist just now, and he’s agreed I can stop taking them effective immediately. “Some experiments fail,” he said. We’re not going to replace it right now; instead we’ll see how I fare in the short-term on just Wellbutrin with a Prozac chaser.

I’m relieved.

Now if I could do something about my dentures.

They don’t feel a part of me. Like they don’t belong. But without them, I look and sound like a meth addict.

Okay. That’s mean to meth heads.

But you get my point.

Which is. I’m vain as hell.

Doc Sugarman says the final dentures will be a vast improvement.

But I won’t get those until summer 2022 at the earliest.

It’s frustrating. I went out last night to see Eddie Izzard perform, and had dinner with friends beforehand. It took me three times as long to eat my meal. (It didn’t help I’m dealing with a sore on my tongue from all the stress of late.) The entire time I panicked, worried I was holding everything up. I’d contemplated skipping the dinner. Hell, I fought against my instincts to stay home as well, I was feeling so disconnected. But I’m glad I went; she was hilarious, and this may be her last tour before she runs for UK Parliament.

TLDR: I get to stop taking lithium, my dentures bug me, and I saw a show last night.