More psychotropic drugs

I am being given psychotropic drugs again.  It is in my Diamox, and I don’t believe that scraping off the outer coating is working with this current prescription, as it did with the former one.  I know this because of the weird, alienated way I was feeling.  Last night at yoga I could not go deep into meditation, as I have been—once again, I felt separated from my spirit, just like when I am on psychotropic drugs.  So, I’ve quit taking the medicine, and I feel better, and more alive, energetic, and more like myself already.  Last night, I dreamed that Mom was doping me again (it reminded me of earlier in the week when I was watching a rerun of The Sopranos Pilot.  Tony, who for all his macho mobster, alpha male status, is completely powerless in the face of his mother’s undermining machinations that she hides behind a helpless, victimized façade.  Tony tells his therapist, “she is just a little old lady,” and Dr. Melfi responds, “not to you, she’s not.  She is very powerful.”  Anyway, in my dream, I got angry, and when my Mom asked me what made me think that she was doping me, I yelled back, “because of how fucked up I feel.”  All of a sudden, my Dad appeared out of nowhere, unkempt and unshaven, with his fist raised against me, demanding “why are you talking to your Mother like that?”  I said, “Dad, they are doping me against my will,” knowing that Dad would take my side (because as abusive as my father was, it was never out of manipulative desire to control).  He did understand and sympathized with me, but he still cuffed me across my shoulder anyway, saying, “you don’t talk to your Mother that way.”  Dream Interpretation:  I have neither Mother or Father to support me in my efforts to evade abuse and injustice, but then I have known that since I reached the age of reason in early adolescence.  It is up to me, all alone, to persevere and endure.  So, I have quit taking the drugs (which I need to control the level of cerebrospinal fluid in my body), even though that will have negative repercussions as the loud buzz in my head never abates, and my head feels like it is floating on my neck.  Without the drugs, I probably will have to have surgery—the thought of which terrifies me—but I would rather have surgery than be alienated from my spirit, energy, and deepest self, through the administration of psychotropic drugs.