Yeah. One's gotta know when it's time to seek help. Professional help, in my case. I've been reading further about all these shitty side effects I'm experiencing, and guess what? Recurrent suicidal thoughts are amongst them. I cannot ignore this, so I promptly called my doctor, shaking like a fucking tree in the strongest winds, because the alternative to this...thing I'm taking is ECT.
ECT. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, a mol of nopes. D'you know what ECT means?
Electro-Convulsive-Therapy. No, no, no, no.
I've seen my boss and owner receive such treatment. It's medieval, to say the least. No, please, no. I'd rather die than do this. It erases memory, it messes with everything on your neurological system. It's fucking brutal. Nope. Nope. Nope.
But I've experiencing all of those symptoms, the irritabilty increase, aggressiveness, and all this crap about suicide. His Assistant, she noticed the panic on my voice, and she's going to try and schedule me for tomorrow. I can't last until the 9th of February, my previously scheduled appointment. I just can't.
But I'm not willing to undergo such thing, such "treatment", this ECT. No way.
Just NO. Man, I hope I don't have to do this, for my own sake. i've seen what it did to my boss. Closely. It wrecked the shit outta him.
Oh, shit. Why do I have to get the most defective brain in the family? Why? Why?
I'll be damned. Fuck, no.
