in Which there are Alchemical Changes.
I will make this brief. The anti-epileptic oxy…whatever turned out be Public Enemy No. 1. I have never experienced such violent vomiting before. Four days after beginning it, I found myself on the phone begging my doctor to let me quit. Lamotrigine suddenly didn’t seem that bad—even with seizures added to it. And Keppra was starting to look like a day-dream. Ah, the advantages of hindsight.
For the last month and a half, I have been cycling off of Lamotrigine and going back onto Keppra. The change in dosages is much more abrupt this time, every week stepping down 100 mg per day. I’ve really been able to see the effects that come from such sudden changes. At first it was up on Keppra: hard physically and emotionally. Then down a step on Lamo: a bit better both physically and emotionally. Another step down: better physically, BAD emotionally. Next step: better physically, absolutely wonderful emotionally—possibly somewhat manic: lots of action and not enough sleep, happy but so very tired. Next step: physical effects nearly gone, slightly less happy. I can literally feel the Keppra settling into my system. Lamo up and downs gone and the incredibly stable, but ever-annoyed me making a comeback. Forget history, forget tradition, forget culture—I am a product of my chemicals.
And through it all: terrible insomnia. Most of the time I get to sleep around 2 or 3 am. It’s kind of like living in a happy little fog. Sounds like something Bob Ross would say. I am gaining the greatest respect for people who deal with this as a mental illness: the depressed or bipolar who are constantly tweaking their medication. Rough stuff. I would probably rather go through brain surgery again than go through a couple more years of these alchemical experiments.