I feel so stupid now that I am back on my medications, though. There are definite pros and cons to the anti-psychotic I am taking. A few days ago, writing came so easily to me. Effortless. I felt so creative and couldn't wait to write more and more. Now? My mind feels tired and slow. It is a major effort to get something written down for this blog. I am having to read other blogs to get the inspiration to write. Slow. Dull witted. My mind aches. Writing is a painful process.
Last night, Rosa and I were talking on the phone about things sexual. She asked why I never want to make love anymore.
"I can't," I reply. "My medications completely blunt my sex drive."
I now know how all those frigid wives felt trying to spurn their sex starved husband's advances.
"But you were so amorous a few days ago," Rosa says.
"I was off my medications. I can't even get excited about porn when I am on them. These medications make me entirely asexual."
"Have you thought about Viagra?"
I laugh and say, "I am leery of taking more drugs. My drugs are already costing over $2000 a month."
I got out of the bed to come and look at pictures of naked women pulled up with a Google image search. No joy. It did nothing for me and I sighed, growing bored at all the fake and unrealistic looking women on the Internet. It was like giving a gay man a Playboy magazine and expecting him to get aroused. It did nothing for me.
I still couldn't sleep last night. I had all my windows open and listened to the wind blow and the last sounds of summer's insects as they faded away while the temperature dropped. Gone are the katydids and the cicadas. It will be a long winter until I hear them again. I also thought of Clara on that loading dock behind the shopping center. She must have gotten chilly last night. The temperature dropped to near 45 degrees. Her sleeping bag should be here in a few days and she will be toasty warm at night.