In Which I'm Certainly Uncertain

This medicine I'm taking seems to be negating the worst effects of this suspected idiopathic epilepsy. Then again, I have started to feel a bit nauseous at points, and a bit dizzy but without the spinny-ness. It could be that the epilepsy was always going to worsen so that I would feel sick and... well, odd, and that the 100mg of Lamotrigine first and last thing are keeping things in check. However, it could be that these are side effects from the Lamotrigine, whose paper insert says that the side effects might include suicidal thoughts, or better yet, could actually make the epilepsy worse. It could be that for some reason, the misfiring brain activity spiked and has now fallen and plateaued to a more manageable level. So the medicine might not be helping me all that much. The problem is that this thing has come on so fast that it's rather hard to tell.

Anyway, writing this blog is proving to be somewhat cathartic. It's like therapy for someone who isn't willing/can't afford or, let's face it, couldn't be arsed to go and see a therapist. Writing about stuff wot goes on around me keeps my mind in check, provides a safety valve. I have to be careful about what I write, mind, because incriminating someone is the last thing I want to do. It's not great to be around friends who are scared of doing anything because they have the Essex Stasi on their case. Well, I say it's therapeutic. It could be that for some reason, the feelings of existential angst spiked and have now fallen and plateaued to a more manageable level. So the writing might be helping me all that much. The problem is that this thing has come on so fast that it's rather hard to tell.

Today's Tune