The Hardest Thing

Last Saturday I took Keagan to the vet for his arthritis. He was having a lot of problems getting around. They prescribed him gabapentin, which I thought was funny, since I take that for anxiety, and carprofen, which is an NSAID pain reliever. I was delighted he perked right up and seemed to feel a lot better.

Tuesday evening, he was really weak. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to go outside. He just wanted to lay down. I was worried, but we had auditors, so I was planning on taking him to the vet Thursday or Friday. That idea went out the window when I woke up at 2am and he couldn’t stand up. He’s wet himself, and he’s crawled across the floor to get out of the wet. My heart sank. I considered rushing him to the ER, but instead I made him comfortable and laid on the ground with him for the rest of the night. I barely slept. I just wanted him to be okay. In the morning, he still couldn’t stand, though. I called my mom and told her had to go to the vet, and she came over to help me get him downstairs, and later into the car so I could get him there.

The vet, a very nice man by the name of Dr. Fedder, who always called Keagan my mutant (for what else can you call a Corgi/Husky hybrid?), said that Keagan was extremely anemic. The first potential cause could be a tumor on his spleen. They’re very vascular, common in old dogs, and very fragile. It was very possible that he’s had it, and that when he started moving around more, it ruptured: meaning he was bleeding into his abdomen. The surgery to save him would need blood transfusions and had a very low survival rate, along with a very high cost. The other likely cause would be an autoimmune disease. It’s harder to diagnose, and I’d need to take him to the emergency vet for a series of tests. If it was an autoimmune disease, he’d need to undergo blood transfusions, chemo, and a lot of pills. Survival was 50%.

In what has been the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my entire life… I chose to let Keagan go. He was 17, the survival rates were very poor, and I didn’t want to put him through chemo and pills or surgery at 17 years old. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d selfishly put him through all the stress and pain just for 6 more months or maybe a year… I didn’t want to watch him slowly degenerate right in front of me, just because I couldn’t let go. It hurt more than anything I’ve done, including when they ripped my wisdom teeth out. I’d rather have done that every weekend for the rest of my life than have to have let him go… but life doesn’t work that way.

It was a blessing for me that this experience was nothing like when I had to put Joie down all those years ago. Joie bled out into his abdomen, too. His blood pressure was so low that the shots didn’t work. They gave him enough to put down a St Bernard, and he was a small Bichon thing. We ended up having to hook Joie up to the anesthesia machine and watch him struggle to stay awake. He wasn’t ready to go. He was scared to leave. It was excruciating. While letting Keagan go was excruciating for ME, he didn’t fight it. They gave him the sedative, and he nodded off like he was supposed to. I promised him he’d be okay, and so would I. I told him to say hi to Joie for me. While he had low blood pressure, the second shot worked almost instantly. He stopped breathing, and he was gone. I don’t think he even saw it coming… which is best for him, and probably me.

The vet said I could stay with him as long as I wanted, but he got cold so fast… so much faster than I would have ever guessed. I hated to leave, but he just wasn’t there anymore.

I’m having him cremated, and I get a paw print.

I went home and cried. I folded up his kennel and rearranged so that when I come home tonight the first thing I do isn’t to be reminded he’s gone and collapse. After that, I got in bed and didn’t move again until my mom came home. She brought dinner and we watched some mindless cooking show at her place.

Sleeping was hard. I’m so used to him being there, curled up next to me. I woke up in the middle of the night and reached out for him, and he wasn’t there. I woke up in the morning, and he wasn’t there. I let the dogs out and I counted 1-2-3—- there was no 4, and I just cried. I cried on and off all morning, trying to get ready for work.

I managed to get up early enough to sit in the living room while everyone ate. Bdo didn’t eat all his food. Kyrie didn’t eat all her food. Even Kira, who didn’t even like Keagan, because she was so jealous of him, didn’t eat all her food. They know something’s up. They know yesterday morning he was here and I was sad. They know I came home without him and was sad. They know he didn’t come home and I’m still so very sad. I wish I could explain it to them.

I’m incredibly sad. Keagan was my best friend. He was my soul mate. He was my constant. He was my world. No one will ever love me as much as Keagan. I love all my dogs, but Keagan was, and always will be special. I’m going to be incredibly sad for a very long time…

In the meantime, I have to be okay, because I promised.

One of the hardest parts of that is Kira. I was mad at her yesterday, because Keagan died and she never liked him. I was mad because I thought she wouldn’t even notice he was gone. She noticed, though, and it’s got her messed up. Also, I can’t be mad at her for being jealous: I favored Keagan all the time. And lastly, I can’t be mad at her for not being Keagan. She loves me uncontrollably. She does. No one will ever love me like Keagan, but if Keagan loved me like a soul mate, Kira loves me like an obsessed stalker.

I started thinking Keagan was going to die when he turned 10, because Joie died at 10. Keagan kept on going and was in great health till the last 24 hours, and I conned myself into believing he’d always be there…. Now I have to adjust without him… and that hurts so much…

I’ll never forget him.

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Doing… good… weirdly enough.

So I had to stop taking the Procardia. I went in for a blood pressure check, and while it was down, it wasn’t down enough, so the doctor doubled my dose. I thought I was gonna die. My body aches and joint pain got SOOO bad. It was crazy. I knocked it down to the previous dose and she added a diuretic, but the body aches and joint pain, while less, were still constant. It was so bad one night that I had to take a Tylenol 3 just to get some sleep.

So, now I’m on Normodyne twice a day. Just started it, but this morning I feel legit better. Like, my body doesn’t hurt. I never thought that would be such a great feeling, but it really is. Just discovered a fun side effect: my scalp is tingly! It’s not an unpleasant feeling either. Lol. I could deal with this.

With the blood pressure medication, I’m also supposed to be cutting back salt. That’s hard, cuz I’m really into salt. I don’t have a sweet tooth; I have a salt tooth. If you offer cake or pasta, I’m going with the pasta… So, I’ve been trying not to ingest too much salt. I made a low sodium pork tenderloin this weekend with wild rice and squash. It was actually pretty good. I’m craving pepperoni at all times, though. Lol. Which is weird, because I don’t usually eat much pepperoni. Still, I’m making the effort. I even cut back on soda, since it has sodium.

It’s helped that we don’t eat a lot of Chipotle anymore. We’re making the attempt at cooking at home. Lol. I usually end up eating a quesadilla and calling it good. Easy peasy.

In other news, I’ve been… good, emotionally. The procardia caused a little depression, because constant pain and not being able to do what you want to do will do that to you, but in general, I’ve been good. Like really good.

The shrink ha me on 75 mg of Effexor, 200 mg of Gabapentin and… whatever half a pill of Wellbutrin is… and I haven’t had a depressive episode: no irrational crying, no trying to sleep for 20 hours, no binge eating, and I haven’t been hating myself as much. It’s been–so nice. I haven’t been manic, although I did drop $50 at 2nd & Charles on books on Saturday, but it was the only impulsive thing I’ve done since the Wellbutrin became a thing. I haven’t been HAPPY, especially on the Procardia, but it’s really interesting to consciously know that I would usually be bawling and hysterical over something as mundane as dropping my lunch bag yesterday morning, and instead I just picked it up and finished getting ready for work.

Short of this terrible incident where a rabbit ran in front of my car and I couldn’t stop, I’ve been outburst free. That was a really awful day, though. I didn’t know that wehn you run over something as small as a rabbit it still feels like a speed bump. Mom told me to keep driving, and then as soon as we got close to a neighborhood the next street over she told me to pull over. I cried a lot. I don’t like the idea of killing things, and I tried so hard to stop, and I know it’s just a rabbit, but to me it’s a little fluffy life that I took, and it just killed me. I cried for like 20 minutes and she reassured me it wasn’t my fault, and that I obviously tried to stop, and that this just happens. And I know that… but I still feel bad. I fed the rabbits that live in my front yard carrots as some kind of cosmic compensation for not being able to stop. I’m sure my mother thought I was ridiculous, but she didn’t say as much.

Still, I’m doing really well emotionally. I’m really excited. AND, because I’m not eating my emotions, I’ve lost like 10 lbs! Okay, it’s a little less than that, but I was pushing 300lbs… Never quite hit it, but got DAMN DAMN close. I’m now at 291 even as of this morning. It’s really nice. I hope to pickup exercising again, and get even more off. I’m not making plans to weigh 145 or anything so terribly close to my ideal BMI, but if I could get down to 200lbs again, I’d be really happy.  That’s high school weight! Lol.

Other things:

  • I’m going out to celebrate a friend’s birthday this month!
  • I’m going to Comicon for the first time!
  • I might go see Heathers at Red Rocks!
  • And I still have Manson & Zombie to look forward to!
  • Oh, and Mothership is taking me to see Bob Seger in February!

I’m also talking to Robot Boy again… I invited his gloriously fashionable best friend to my book club, and she came and told him she was with me, and it turns out he missed me. We might hang out this weekend.

In news I’m sad about, the Polygon is shutting down. All my poly friends that liked the communal living are moving onto bigger and better things. So, I have the Polygon House Cooling party in July and it will be that last polygon party. SO SAD! It’s the end of an era… but I’m so happy for all of them. I hope we manage to keep in touch.

So… things are on the up and up. Who could have seen that coming?! Not me. Lol.

 

Secret Vacation

So. I got some vacation time this week.

I was talking to Bosslady about how I was going to lose my vacation this year. You see, at my place of work if you don’t USE the vacation, you LOSE it, because the company doesn’t pay it out. So, I was telling Bosslady how I lost my vacation and she was like NO YOU DID NOT!!! TAKE THE VACATION! NOW!

So, I was on vacation this week. I didn’t tell anyone, because… they might wanna do stuff… and I had things I wanted to get done.

I cleaned mom’s house Monday. I didn’t CLEAN IT clean it, but I vacuumed like four times for dog hair, cleaned the bathrooms, and mowed the lawn.
Tuesday I had problems doing things… Kinda wore myself out Monday, I guess. Still, I managed to mow my front and backyard.
Wednesday I went to Lowes for some garden stuff, including some Lois flowers. They’re called Lantana, and my grandma, Lois, grew them in giant bushes in Florida.

Wednesday evening I called to be sure Mothership had left work and she was NOT good. She was dizzy and nauseous, so I went and got her from work. When we got home she threw up… and I panicked. It was too much like that day I had to take her to Urgent Care… I don’t know if I can survive her in the hospital again. Fortunately, I set her up in bed and she woke up much better. That meant that I had to take her back to work Thursday, though.

So this morning I took her to work. It was a pleasant enough ride. Afterward, since I had a blood pressure check on that side of town at 1030 anyways, I went to Village Inn for breakfast. It wasn’t my best idea to eat before a blood pressure check. The omelet upset my stomach, which I think raised my blood pressure some; also: salt content. So I went in for the check and it was 138/90. That’s good, but it’s not quite where they wanted it to be. As a result, my doctor increased my Procardia. Doubled it, actually.

Here is the baffling thing about this experience.

My shrink reduced my Effexor because she thought it was raising my blood pressure. Last week, after I saw Joe and had better blood pressure, I got her to agree to increase it again and let me keep the Wellbutrin. That was major. Because it’s not as low as they wanted it, my Effexor might be in danger again.

I can’t go back to how I was before the Effexor. I woke every morning wishing I hadn’t. It’s no way to live. While I’m not 100% great right now, I’m better. That little bit of better is so important to me. I’ll do anything to keep the Effexor. That’s an important determination to make, because the Procardia is causing some tiredness and joint pain… and this flushing thing where I’m just super hecking hot a lot of the time. Procardia is not pleasant when you tend to get every single side effect known to occur… but I can’t go back. I need the Effexor because I like wanting to live.

Admittedly, the tiredness and joint pain is hindering my former burst of energy that I got with the Effexor, but I’m still better on the Effexor than off of it.

We’ll just have to see how this plays out. Tomorrow I wanna do more yard work, and I’m getting the dogs groomed. It would be great to have a nice backyard to read in…

Steps Backwards

So.
I have high blood pressure.

My mom has high blood pressure and I’m incredibly fat and inactive… so, it’s not like this is unexpected or anything. What was unexpected is how stressful high blood pressure can be.

Let’s bullet this real quick.

  • So, I saw a shrink. She put me on Effexor. She requested some blood work.
  • My primary saw the blood work and wanted to talk about it, as well as just see me for the first time, since I finally picked a Kaiser doc.
    • My blood pressure at that appointment was high. She asked me to come back in like a month to recheck that it’s okay, because I thought it might be White-coat Hypertension. I don’t like doctors.
  • Before that recheck I saw my shrink again, just to see how I’m doing. I was doing great. Felt lots better. Started exercising. Woke up feeling pretty good on the daily. Wanted to increase just a little for weird depressive episodes.
    • Shrink had a nurse take my blood pressure since she saw it was high at my last doc visit, and Effexor CAN increase blood pressure.
    • My blood pressure was hella high. Like, to the point the nurse asked if I was having chest pain.
    • She got a higher ranking nurse to take it to confirm.
    • Blood pressure spooked my shrink, so she cut back the Effexor and gave me Wellbutrin.
  • Went to my blood pressure check.
    • Blood pressure was crazy high.
    • Nurse got panicky look and went to get higher ranking nurse to confirm again.
  • Doc scheduled me for an EKG and started me on Procardia.
  • Go to EKG. Take mom for moral support.
  • LPN is nutzo.
    • Can’t find the EKG order.
    • Tells me I don’t need to be there cuz it’s prolly White-coat Hypertension.
    • Brings me a 10XL gown to put on.
      • I’m fat, but I’m not THAT fat.
      • #bedsheet
    • EKG is fine. No damage to heart.
  • Take Procardia, Wellbutrin, and reduced dose of Effexor.
    • Feel bad.
    • Hard time waking up.
    • Very tired.
  • Get tired at work, so bosslady sends me to Rite Aid to check my BP.
    • BP is 183/123 according to machine.
    • Panic.
  • Mom takes me to Kaiser to have a nurse check my BP in case Imma have heart attack.
    • Nurse is cute guy named Joe.
    • BP is fine. 130-something / 80-something.
    • Advised that home devices and public machines are inaccurate.
      • For best results, sit for at least 5 minutes before taking BP.
  • Email Shrink about tiredness after mental breakdown over frittata.
    • It’s Effexor withdrawal.
    • Prescribes smaller pills.
      • Week 1: 1.5 pills
      • Week 2: 1 pill
      • Week 3: 0.5 pill
      • Week 4: Stop Effexor
    • Should help withdrawal.
    • Wait.
      • We’re stopping Effexor?
        • Not what I thought was happening.
      • Are we going to increase the Wellbutrin?
      • What if the Wellbutrin doesn’t work?
      • Panic.
      • Sadness.

And that brings us to today.

I picked up the pills… so I was up to 75mg… She knocked me down to half a pill (37.5mg) and added half a pill of Wellbutrin. So then she called in 37.5mg pills of Effexor, and I’m to take 1.5 of them this week to combat tiredness and withdrawal. Then decrease till I’m off Effexor.

That’s fine, I guess… but I feel like we’re moving backwards. I was doing great on Effexor. I’m on blood pressure meds now. The only up I’m seeing with Wellbutrin so far is that I don’t have the urge to smoke, even though I’ve been stressed out and sad. Great! But I’m supposed to be on vacation next week and I was really hoping to feel motivated to live so I can get some shit I wanna do, done. Right now I just want to sleep and cry. I’ve wanted to sleep and cry for years and I was finally kind of out of it, and now… we’re back here…

So I emailed my shrink… and asked when we’ll be increasing the Wellbutrin… because maybe it’ll work. It’s fine, if it works, but I am not currently fine. I had a freak out yesterday over cutting tomatoes… It was daunting, TO THE POINT OF TEARS, to cut tomatoes to put in a cake pan with eggs. That’s not better. That’s some shit I’d do before I started Effexor.

I feel very discouraged… I dunno what to do other than try to trust my shrink, but I’m not… great… at trusting mental health professionals…

In better news, I’ve lost some weight. Not a noticeable amount of weight, but 5lbs in 8 days. So, that’s good. I’m trying to keep up on exercising. Mom and I have been walking the dogs around the block a few times every night… we can’t go far cuz she’s still on oxygen at home, and all of us are out of shape, dogs included, but we’re doing SOMETHING. We didn’t go last night cuz of the freak out and general fatigue, but I did force myself to get on my stationary bike. I made it 12 minutes before my legs felt like they were going to explode… It’s not impressive, but it’s not bad for my first time in months.

I just… want to get better… Why is getting better so hard?

If I feel better, I can take better care of myself.
Not sad = can exercise & less binge eating.
Can exercise = will exercise. Less binging = less caloric intake.
Exercise + less calories = weight loss.
Weight loss = better heart health & better mood.
Repeat as needed.

But… that’s just not where I’m at right now.

It’s Gonna Be MAY

April 30th is “Obligatory Listen to NSYNC” day on the internet… because ramen.


It’s been almost a month since I started taking Effexor and Gabapentin. I can’t say that it’s solved all of my emotional problems, but there’s been marked improvement.

  • I don’t go home and cry everyday anymore.
  • I can’t sleep for 24 hours straight anymore.
  • My moods still swing, but the swings are shorter.
  • My panic attacks are fewer and shorter lived.
  • I can watch TV again.
  • I have the energy to go on walks with mom.
  • I had the desire to go get a pedicure this weekend.
  • I cleaned my room… which took 9 hours.

I think it might need to go up a little more, but the changes are noticeable and I have to admit that I feel better, emotionally, than I have in a long time. I’m still getting bouts of depression, and I’m still binge eating sometimes, and I’m still having some panic attacks… but overall I can’t say it’s not better.

The medication itself isn’t too bad, either. Non-sedative, and actually I think it gives me a little boost when I take it. I had some problems with nausea, but solved that by eating breakfast before I take the pill. The most annoying side effects are the dry mouth and compulsive yawning… lol. So, it’s not terrible.

My new diagnosis, btw, is Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar II, with an Eating Disorder and Anxiety Disorder. It’s definitely different from Bipolar 1 with Antisocial Personality Traits… but I asked for a rediagnosis, and I got one. At this point, I don’t care what they call it… so long as they treat it… and that seems to be what we’re doing.

Yesterday I cleaned my room, which is a thing I haven’t had the energy or motivation to do in like a year. Found a lot of shoes… I own a LOT of shoes…

So… Things are turning up. Mom is still on O2 at night, but we’re working on getting her levels up when she moves around. We walk at work and I walk her when we get home from work… It’s slow, but it’s getting better. Hopefully she’ll be off soon.

I have to see the doc for hypertension next week. She’s had me checking my blood pressure, and while I managed my fat diseases really well until now… apparently this is the year they all catch up to me. 140s over 100ish all the time… BUT she assures me that I might not need to be on hypertension meds forever… if I get my energy back and exercise everyday, maybe lose SOME weight, I might be able to get off them in the future. I’m choosing not to be upset over blood pressure, because… well… it was bound to happen. But there’s hope. Hope of energy and a better lifestyle. A hope I did not have for a very long time.

I’m not cured, but for the first time in a very long time I feel like things might be okay. I don’t feel like I’m despairing. I don’t feel like I’m alone. I don’t feel like everything is falling apart… I feel… okay.

The Hardest of Hard Weeks

Easter was last Sunday.

Mothership and I were tired Saturday, so we didn’t do much, but Sunday morning I got up, gave her flowers, and made her breakfast. We didn’t do a lot with the day, but we spent time together, away from work, and I made her a good lunch of pork ribs, spinach, and asparagus. It was a nice day.

Monday morning, she called to tell me she couldn’t got into work, though. Mothership was incredibly dizzy and throwing up. By the time I finished getting dressed and went over to check on her before I went to work, she’d googled enough to think she had vertigo. She was also stuck on the bathroom floor. Whenever she tried to move she’d get sick again. I got her to a sofa and scheduled a call with a nurse for her later in the day, to determine if we could ride this out or go to the hospital.

By the time I got home she’d SOMEHOW made it upstairs. The nurse said she needed to go to urgent care, but either didn’t specify why or mom forgot in her blur of vomiting. She’d taken a bath but was stuck in bed. I tried to wait for her to reach a point where we could get downstairs, but it never really came. I ended up calling the nurse back to assess what she’d said, and when I told my mother that the nurse thought it might be hypertension or a stroke, she pulled herself up and got downstairs. She then threw up more… which is to say she wretched. She’d emptied her stomach long before that.

I got her in the car, and she was weirdly fine for the car ride. I laid her in the backseat and that seemed to work for her. Getting her into the urgent care was hard. I had to wheel her in, which she hated. Also, it was down a floor, so we had to take the elevator, which she had to be sick first for. Then we finally got downstairs and they got her to a room. Once they gave her IV fluids and something for the nausea she was a little better. They also put her on oxygen because her oxygen saturation was in the low 80s.

Christine came down, because without Rick around she’s taken to worrying about mom. That’s nice. It’s like having an aunt that cares.

We ended up just waiting for a long time. They did an EKG (cardiac event), chest x-ray (pneumonia), and CAT scan (stroke). Her blood pressure was fine. Her EKG was fine. The CAT scan was fine. The chest x-ray showed signs of pneumonia. They determined that she needed antibiotics and couldn’t be taken off oxygen, so we ended up waiting for them to get a bed at the hospital nearby, and for an ambulance to come take her, even though it’s a less than 5 minute drive.

Mothership was in the hospital for days.

While she was in the hospital, I was trying to close the month.
Over the years, we’ve made it a rule to not get sick at month end… she even conditioned her family to die when it wasn’t month end. Month end is how we judge our life calendars. Month end is sacred. Also, the first was the day mom entered the hospital.

I was hoping mothership was going to be in and out real quick. She was not.

While we’d often talked about me learning how to close the month, compile a statement, and pay the managers, we’ve not had time for me to actually learn it. So, I started by doing everything I knew how to do. We have a full office, but not everyone knows their job for month end. It became a lot of me redoing things just because it was faster than asking these girls to do them again.

I managed to push down the sadness, the worry, and the general bad feelings I had about the week. I did less well with pushing down the irritation I usually bottle up. I was very on edge all week. I visited mothership in the hospital everyday at lunch, which sucked because parking is a nightmare and I’d park really far away, hike all the way up the ward they had her one, then back, on a lunch break… I also swung by at night, and then spent my drive home agonizing about leaving her there.

At work, I just focused on what had to be done and little else. I blocked out the office and tried not to worry about or hate them for not understanding what kind of hell I was living in. When she was feeling a little better, mothership wrote down things she knew I needed to do to pull the statement together, and that was helpful. Christine, who is a retired controller, also came and was a big support and a big help to me. She’s a great teacher, but she managed to get herself all twisted in just two days of helping me.

Thursday mothership came home. It was a long day. I’d been trying to figure manager commissions all day, with the help of Christine, and I was fried. Then I had to go bring mothership home. She’s still on oxygen so they send her home with a tank. It was a trick to fit it in the car. Then we went to the pharmacy, where she waited in the car. Her PCP cancelled the antibiotic that the hospital doctor ordered for some reason. I hope it was a mistake. The hospital doctor had to be called and she put the order through again, but that took a while. Then we had to go home and call the oxygen people, because the tank she got sent home with was only good for five hours. They didn’t show up till around 10, and with an incomplete order.

To her credit, my mother came home that night, went to bed, then got up and finished manager commissions for me. She could see how stressed I was, I guess. She insisted, and she checked everything. I went to work that morning and just had to wrap shit up. It was still stressful, and I hated leaving her at home, but it was done. I managed to get the statement out and everything.


I also saw a shrink Friday.

Last time I saw a shrink it went poorly… Geodon is evil and sedative. So I saw a new shrink, because the sadness is eating me alive. She asked me a lot of questions, and I told her I didn’t think I was bipolar. To her credit, she listened to me, asked a lot more questions, and came out of it with, “you have a mood disorder, but I wouldn’t really call it bipolar.”

What does that mean?

Well, it means that I might be bipolar, but I’m on the functional side. I’m definitely depressed, and I still seem to exhibit mood swings, but since my mood swings aren’t MY top concern, they’re not her top concern, either. I like that. So, she’s decided to treat my depression with Effexor and Gabapentin, and actually said I might have an attention deficit problem. We have to fix the depression before I can be tested for that, though.

I took the Gabapentin last night, as directed, and slept good. I don’t know if that’s because of the Gabapentin or because I’m completely exhausted, but this morning I woke up at 7, let the dogs, out, took the Effexor, and tried to go back to sleep. I wasn’t successful. I felt okay, though, so I picked up and went hunting for Banjo Kazooie.

I didn’t find the game, but I ordered it from Amazon… and that’s fine. I also went to a book store. Only bought one book.

I’m tired now… doc said I might be tired and my tummy might get upset the first couple of days… so it’s expected. I hope I can start to feel better. I’d love to feel better.

Purple Spots

Kaiser is so fucking weird. Last time I wanted to see a shrink it took THREE MONTHS before I could get in… and I was really worried I wasn’t gonna make it that long. Today I called to get in and they’re like, “we could get you in with the shrink you saw last time early next week, but if you wanna see a new shrink we can get you in first week of April.” Really? Just two weeks? And it’s only that long because I didn’t want to see the same shrink I saw last time (as she is dead to me after her blatant disregard of my disdain for sedative medication).

Anyways… I get to see a new shrink! So… that’s fine. I mean, life’s been bad, and getting worse, but I’m having a weirdly good day for someone who didn’t sleep last night. I tried really hard, but yesterday was super hella blue.

Let’s backup.

Monday.
I made it into work, but on the way home I was just… defeated as fuck. We’re still down a biller, I’m training three new people, and the title gal went on vacation this week because she’s moving. I cried all the way home, and my mom encouraged me to go to my book club even though I was super blue. So, I bought some cigarettes, chain-smoked the whole way there, and actually had a really good time. I really enjoyed the book this month: Annihilation. It was really Lovecraftian, and I flew through it. I started book two when I got home from book club, and it’s really different, but I think I’ll finish the series anyways.

Tuesday.
For the first time in my life I found getting out of bed almost impossible. I’ve had low days, but Tuesday is one of the lowest days I’ve had since all this mood swinging like a wrecking ball started in eighth grade. I managed to get out of bed, and even shower, but then I couldn’t imagine leaving the house. It was 100% outside of the realm of things I was physically capable of doing. So, I called bosslady and told her I had a cough and issues breathing, and asked if I could work from home. I wasn’t opposed to working, but I just… couldn’t leave the house. I actually got a lot done from home, and it was fortunate I’d brought stuff home anyways. #YayRemoteAccess

Wednesday.
Hump Day was hard. I woke up, and I was determined to get into work, but I ended up about an hour late. I informed bosslady, obviously, and she knows I’m having problems, so she said that was fine, and that I could leave early. I did not leave early. I had some kind of mixed episode where I was pretty much hysterical but channeled it into trying to do EVERYTHING at once… and it literally startled bosslady. She tried to get me to go home at four, and I ended up staying a full eight hours “because there’s too much to get done.” But like… I was breaking…

So I went home. Mom had me try on some clothes she got me for Easter, to be sure they were the right size. I went home and refused to eat dinner… meditated on the idea that maybe I just wouldn’t eat again… and how last time I lost a lot of weight in a short period of time no one was concerned, because when you’re a fat girl that stops eating, or exercises herself to death, or binges and purges, people think the weight loss is great and no one asks how you lose 30 lbs in a few weeks. With my head spinning and my stomach feeling familiarly vacuous, I couldn’t focus on TV, so I played a few rounds of Star Realms before heading to bed with a book. Figured I’d wind down for an hour and be asleep by ten.

I was not asleep by ten. I was very awake. I put on white noise and laid in the dark for an hour. When the white noise shut off, I was still awake. So I turned on all the lights, got up, did a few things, turned on a fan and the humidifier, and then laid back down with some soft lo-fi hip hop to relax to. An hour later I was still awake and I had this pop song called RIIICH stuck in my head. It was annoying.

I tried thinking STOP STOP STOP or SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP, I counted sheep, I tried sleeping on the floor, I tried sleeping sitting up, I tried meditation, I took a 30 mg temazepam, I opened the window, I turned everything off… I got up and went downstairs, and in the dark biked on the hardest setting until my legs ached in an attempt to wear myself out. I was still awake… and all I wanted to do was sleep… and it broke me.

I’m not new to self harm or various creative ways to do it, but this was the first time I got so angry that I pretty much beat myself into submission. I slapped myself in the face, hit myself upside the head, punched and smacked my thighs till they burned, screamed, cried, and when it was all said and done I took to this weird game I’d played as a kid. I don’t remember why, but when we were kids there was some game where the punishment was someone hitting you with two or three fingers on your wrist or forearm. Every time my brain tried to think, after I laid back down, I’d hit myself on the arm. By the time I had calmed down, my arm ached like I’d slammed it in a door. This morning I woke up and thought it would be all kinds of colors, cuz it still hurt. Fortunately for me, it was just splotched purple. Still hurts like a bitch, though. There’s a definite swollen spot, but it’s not noticeable to anyone except me.

I never did sleep, I don’t think. I just managed a general nothingness till the alarm went off this morning. The dogs were concerned, but they are regrettably used to this kind of behavioral outburst. I hate that they’re used to it…

Thursday.
For someone that went totally batshit crazy and didn’t sleep, I’ve had a weirdly good day. I put on a nice purple sweater and cute boots. I’ve been very pleasant at work. I had a breakfast burrito and then meatloaf for lunch, in case you’re worried I didn’t eat today. I’m planning on Schlotsky’s for dinner, and I’d really like to maybe finish one of my books I’m reading tonight, but also get in some Star Realms time. I bought a ticket to a concert for tomorrow night, too.

Am I manic? I dunno. I’m terribly unfocused, but I’m not hyper, optimistic, or particularly chatty. I’ve just been enjoying my new playlist (and I took RIIICH off all but one playlist) and having a moderately pleasant day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fine a little bit of happiness in every time my arm taps something and I get a small shock of new pain amidst the constant ache. I’m sure that’s some secret to my good mood… some messed up bipolar thing.

I’m not even tired… I’m just disinterested in work today. It’s super weird, and all of this isn’t LOST on me. I can only hope that I sleep tonight and the mood continues.

Anyways….

I’m gonna go see this pdoc and see what she says in a couple weeks. I don’t wanna take anymore antipsychotics, though… and I have always said I didn’t want to take Lithium… so I don’t know what they might give me. I’m willing to negotiate, but I really want a shrink to listen to me. There are side effects I can’t tolerate (like falling asleep at work), and I need to be respected when it comes to that.

So. We’ll see.