Well, the damn Zyprexa landed me in the hospital. On Tuesday, I just lost it completely.
I was screaming, ranting about things crawling on me and shadows coming after me, and clawing at my skin trying to make the crawling things go away. I was hearing voices that told me to kill myself. I poured all my Klonopin into my hand and Cliff had to physically force me not to swallow them and to put them back in the bottle.
So Cliff told me either he'd take me to the hospital or he'd call 911 and let them take me. I let him take me and I got home early this afternoon.
The doctor in the hospital put me back on Invega and gave me enough to get through a month and a half so maybe I can straighten out the financial situation with my regular psychiatrist's office so I can go see my psychiatrist again. Also, by then, I'll have had my disability hearing (please please please please please let it come through) so maybe I'll have that help by then too.