Very sick

Very sick as I feel the psychotropic drugs' onslaught.  Not only am I in terrible  physical pain with muscle spasms, headache, and a debilitating weakness that makes it difficult to walk, but I am truly sick again, like I was for three weeks in the psychiatric hospital, unable to bear reality.  It helped to go lay under the trees but I never detoxed myself before I got another walloping dose from my truck and now here I am at home, so sick, and unable to function in reality, I can't even watch TV.  All I want to do is escape this oppressive, blank ill feeling of not being in reality.  At least I am not in and out of fugue states like I was earlier in the day, braking at green lights and running through red ones, and not even knowing where I am at or how I got there (the last time I was so fucked up while I was driving I was stoned out of mind on pot, and never knew how I got to downtown LA from San Bernardino).  Earlier in the day, I couldn't even remember what day it was.  I struggled for what seemed eternity, panicked because I know how serious it is when you can't remember what day it was.  It was a pain day.  A torture day.  A hatefilled day.  A day that I passed by remembering they American spy who "walked home" from his cell in Moscow; a day I passed by remember 007 surviving waterboarding, whipping, and repeated scorpion venon; a day I passed by remembering Christ on the Cross and knowing that the worst thing that could happen to me-death--is actually the best, but I can't cheat.  I can't break the Christian faith.  I can't type anymore either because my arms are too weak.  Thank God I got some vicodin, so i can knock myself out