I tend to have clear-headed periods late at night, so…
Yes, I am having something of a relapse. No, it doesn’t involve me being misdiagnosed or incorrectly medicated or hospitalized or lying on the couch begging for the sweet release of death, so at least there’s been a net gain in things since last year.
Things continue to suck for me, although I think today sucked marginally less than yesterday which in turn sucked marginally less than the day before, thank god for small blessings. I have a Master’s degree from Harvard, a law degree from NYU, and have beaten cancer, and I’m happy that I was able to make myself get up and walk the dogs for 30 minutes before I had to come back to the house and cry. Hooray!
Blood tests show that my meds are all outta whack, which explains a lot. My doctor has plans, and contingencies for the plans, and contingencies for the contingencies, and other, secret plans that no one knows but her and her cat. (Okay, I don’t actually know that she owns a cat. But she seems like the type.) It may take a little time and the waiting is painful, oh so very, very painful, but there’s no other option. I’m trying to put my trust in everyone around me and believe me when they say things are going to be okay.
In the meantime, here are some learnings. Take 2 with a grain of salt and call me in the morning:
- When you are depressed and/or anxious and/or crazy in some other way and are not eating, and then you have a calm period where you can, eat a LOT. Like a camel with water. Get yourself to the next oasis safely. Watch it with the mashed potatoes, though, because they will sit in your GI tract like a goddamned rock.
- Sedating yourself to sleep will only allow yourself to ignore your current feelings and wait for your meds to kick in for so long. Suck it up and stay awake. It will suck, but will suck less in the long run. I mean, i hope it will; that’s what the doctor tells me.
- If you ever do find yourself laying on a couch begging for the sweet release of death, give yourself up to your friends and family and/or doctor and do whatever they say. Unless your friends and family are all psychopaths and/or serial killers, they will not allow you to fulfill this wish, they will force you to get the help you need, and you will come out the other side and go on to author a blog known mainly for its liberal use of the f-bomb rather than interesting content. (Everyone’s got a niche.)
- Internet strangers are crazy amazing. They will be drawn to your cuss-laden blog like moths to a flame. When you post about your current state of fuckupedness, they will write hundreds of comments and emails, slip notes under your front door and send gifts to your home, and you will be amazed at how much they care and will wonder why you didn’t start cursing on the internet years ago.