I woke up this morning with my right leg feeling like it had been used as a punching bag. I had gone to a couple of stores yesterday, grocery shopping and picking up my medications. I even made some dinner for a change, my special spaghetti sauce. I am assuming that I pissed off my leg somehow. It could be from me sitting on it, a bad habit I have when I am on my chair.

I had planned on meeting my friend at the park today, along with her kids. I haven’t seen her in a long time, but I had to cancel because I could barely walk. I felt awful and still do. What a lovey day to have been outside, but perhaps next weekend instead. She was very understanding. This is the main reason why I have such a hard time making plans.

I have my intake appointment on Tuesday and from there I will start the outpatient program at the same place I was an inpatient. Back in 2011 I was in a sad state and all I did was cry for the first week. They are heavily into DBT and group therapy. I am looking forward to having something to do with myself for a few weeks and am hopeful that I will start feeling less depressed. Because I still am. Depression has a way of lingering like a dingleberry on the ass crack of your life.

Yep. Random swear time!

At least now that I am off that dreadful Latuda, I am starting to feel a bit better. I believe that the medication was amplifying everything and making life basically intolerable. The desire to die is not something that I recommend. I do however recommend the feeling of skipping. I used to kick ass at that. Sadly, people look at you strangely when you do it in public.

Drugs are scary shit, man.