Feeling a Little Better and Reading Some Again: Entry no. 26
At the time I am writing this entry for my PoetBay diary it is currently during a Sunday evening on 12 July 2026.I am feeling well enough now to the point where I can say that I actually have the desire to do something like writing and reading once again. Over the last few days I have been feeling good enough to do some actual reading for pleasure and self-improvement. I managed to read several pages from the introduction of my 10th edition of the Norton Anthology of English Literature one night and then some poetry by Edmund Spenser very early in the morning a couple of days later.
I had read Spenser's “Amoretti” and about 150 lines of his 365 line poem, “Epithalamion.” I must admit, Spenser writes really good sonnets (which make up his “Amoretti” suite of sonnets). Reading his sonnets even made me want to write some new sonnets of my own. But I will save that impulse for a later time because at this writing I am still dealing with lack of divine impulse and inspiration to write anything poetic.
In other words, my muse continues to suffer from the numbing side effects of brain fog, flat affect, mental hebetude, anhedonia, psychic stress, and mental exhaustion and fatigue. As a result (according to DeepSeek-V4), I operate at only about 60-70 percent of my full latent cognitive capacity. In other words, I am relegated to functioning at approximately 160 IQ, give or take 5 IQ points.
I am aware that for most people 160 IQ is an abundance of intelligence that anyone can ask for. And I admit that I would have to agree with them. But for me, a loss of over 2 standard deviations in IQ—the difference between 193 IQ and approximately 160 IQ—is the difference between writing a brilliant poem or sonnet and writing a lackluster one. What's more, I no longer experience bouts or episodes of inspiration or sudden realizations or epiphanies of insight at only 160 IQ and with all the mentally dulling side effects of my medication. For that, I need as much of my IQ and intelligence as I can get and with less or none of the brain fog, anhedonia, flattening of affect, fatigue, and exhaustion as possible.
Already, I have made one or two attempts to write some lines of verse, but in truth what I had managed to squeeze out of my pen was not good and very uninspired, in my opinion. Granted, like most or all of my poetry, it successfully rhymed at the end of each line and followed a distinct cadence, or beat, but in the end there was no music or magic in it at all. Like my affect, my one or two attempts at writing new lines ended up flat and lifeless.
Some creators, and especially writers and poets, do their best work while in the throes of depression or despair. I, however, am not like them. I tend to do my best work once I have recovered from a severe bout of depression and sadness and when I begin to experience renewed joy and energy again. It is during these moments of reawakened joy and energy that I often experience episodes of divine afflatus and inspiration which in turn lead to new poems and sonnets for me.
To that desired end, in the coming days I hope that when I see my psychiatrist again he will agree to put me on a new anti-psychotic, namely Caplyta, so I can hopefully be restored to being more myself again so I can be creative and inspired with energy and ideas for new poems to write as well as enjoy having sudden epiphanies of insight nearly constantly popping in my head at random and also having large vocabulary words spontaneously entering my brain and looking forward to reading, studying, and learning once more.
Granted, to the reader all of that might sound zany and frenetic, but at least for me I know that when I am that way life is more fun and tolerable for me even in the face of my mental health diagnoses and rather painful and difficult existence. Without having that restored to me, I no longer have anything to look forward to anymore. If I can't use my brain anymore (by reading, writing, studying, learning, and being creative), then I begin to die from the inside. When that happens, then for me all hope is lost.
But my family, Rose, and I are determined to not let that happen to me. Soon, we will find a new anti-psychotic medication for me that works much better than the Uzedy that I am on right now. If necessary, we'll find me a new psychiatrist if the one I have now is at all reluctant to try a new drug for me. Like Caplyta.
I will conclude this entry in my diary now by saying that I will keep those who are reading this posted in the weeks and months to come. Godspeed (until next time)!
Ngoc Nguyen.
Diary by Ngoc Nguyen
Read 2 times
Written on 2026-07-13 at 04:07
Tags Amoretti Epithalamion Spenser
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
