On Hold Until Next Week...

On Monday, I was still really upset about our fight on Sunday, and I just wanted to lay in bed.  Mark took a shower then went downstairs, and came upstairs and stood at the bed until I looked at him.  What he said, I couldn't believe it.

He said HE was still mad at ME because he thought I wasn't taking any accountability for what had happened.  I said "what EXACTLY did I do?", and he said I was equally responsible.  I was just incredulous, and so freaking angry that I didn't know what to say.  I didn't want to fight again like we did the day before, so I tried not to say anything, but I'm sure my eyes and face said it all.  So he started rehashing what he thought *I* did, and I was thinking "are you kidding me...". 

I know this sounds so petty, but I don't think anyone can imagine how sad this whole thing makes me.  It's not WHAT we argued and fought about, it's what all happened and what was said during the argument. 

He even went so far saying he felt bad about the situation and was praying to God in the shower about what to do, and God had told him to come talk to me.  Uhm, God told him to come to me and tell me he was mad at me and that would make everything okay?  If that was God's advice, God doesn't know me like I thought He did.  That made me mad too, that he would use God against me.

So I wrote our marriage counselor again today and told her a bit about what happened, and she said she highly recommended that we come in for a session together next week.  I asked Mark when would he be available to go in, and he said any day next week, so I'm waiting on her to tell me when.  I don't want to go to her and "tell on him", I just want to work this out.  I really REALLY just want someone to talk to, I have no one.  Some things you can tell your friends, and some things you can't because they will never forget. 

I can't move on until we get this settled, I don't see him right now the way I've always seen him.  He seems like a different person.

He did suggest we take the dog to the dog park yesterday afternoon and we did that, and that ended up being a lot of fun.  He knows the way to my heart is always through my dog.  Seeing Bailey happy at the dog park cheered me up for the time that we were there, and Mark took a lot of pictures and sent them to me.

Probably by the time our appointment rolls around I'll be fine, I won't even want to go.

When Will It Change?

I wrote our marriage counselor about what happened with Mark, and she said that "I Just Want to Die" usually means 'I Just Want The Pain to End", but the gun thing was alarming.  She told me to asked if he intended to harm himself, he laughed and said it was a coincidence because he'd been working on the things he'd been wanting to do, and seemed better.  She wants him to come and see a different counselor other than her in her office, but he has to want to go, and he doesn't.

I thought he seemed better, but he's not.  He seems angry a lot.  I think the anger stems from anxiety which stems from depression.  He yells, but says the yelling is not directed AT me, he's just yelling when he's talking about something TO me.  He agrees it's from his depression, and explains it's a man's way of crying, but I told him that doesn't mean it's okay to yell at your wife.  He still has a short temper with me.  I find myself getting angry at him and holding it in, but then the next time I get angry at him, I just get that much more angrier, and it continues to build and build and build.

So today, I don't even feel like explaining the whole thing, but we got into a huge blowout fight, worst one we've had in years and years.  I even started packing my suitcase to leave.  Oh, just thinking about it is making me very angry again.  I'm not over it yet, and this time, I don't know when I will be.  I'm pretty mad and upset.  It sucks that this would have to be our 3 day weekend together, when we don't even want to be around each other. 

I don't think it helped that we went to dinner with his parents on Saturday night.  All they did at the end was say they were praying for him to go back to church - afterwards I said that was nice, I would like to go back to church, too.  Again, his anger came back out full force.  How I didn't understand this, I didn't understand that, how could they say that, on and on.  Another whole story that would be a blog entry in itself to explain.  But whatever, I just said it meant that they cared, but apparently it was the wrong thing to say.  Everything is the wrong thing to say.

 So after our huge blowout fight, he was trying to make up a little, and started saying a few things that I was right about that we had been arguing about during the week.  I was too angry, and didn't want to hear it.  So NOW you're going to listen to me, but you were willing to fight me to the ground on it before?  Too little, too late and too obvious.  He started saying how he wouldn't be good at something, and I'm usually his biggest cheerleader, but I didn't have it in me  He was going on and on, and I finally said "I just don't have it in me to encourage you right now."  He has no idea how often I'm in his corner, what a positive influence I am in his life, NO IDEA.  I'm constantly telling him he can do things, which I always believe that he can, but it's just not in me anymore. 

I don't feel appreciated, and I don't like feeling like a burden.  I'm actually really sick of the whole situation. 

At one point, he said tomorrow this will all seem exaggerated.  Well, it's tomorrow, even though it's 1:41am.  Doesn't seem exaggerated yet.  I still feel the same.

How Do You Make Someone Get Help?

Someone I love dearly has a problem, and being mentally ill myself, I know what *I* would do, but I'm finding out that getting someone else to do what you know is the right thing to do and they won't do it is very frustrating.  Especially when you live with them and watch the consequences and worry about them.

My husband has been going up and down with depression ever since I've met him.  He's tried scores of anti-depressants, but he claims they don't work, or the side effects are not worth it.  Yes, I totally get the whole side effect thing, but in my case, I can't give up, that's simply not an option.  I don't know why it's okay for him to do it, but I always thought to myself, "If it ever got THAT BAD, he would be desperate enough to do something about it."

So the last few months I've noticed he's been very anxious, and it didn't occur to me until yesterday and he blurted out how depressed he was (I'll get to that in a minute) that anxiety can be a sign of depression.  He's had a history of abusing alcohol and xanax in the past and we've had "episodes" that I don't think he'd appreciate me posting on the internet, not that he'd appreciate this either, but I do record things in my life that I find to be important or I want to remember for a later date.

Again, a few months ago, I went to kiss him, and thought I detected alcohol on his breath.  At the time, he had been home for quite awhile, which meant he would have had to sneak something to drink at home.  That's alarming to me - that he would actually hide it from me.  I told him his breath smelled like he had been drinking, but he apologized and said he must have bad breath.  Hello?  I've known him for 15 years.  I know what his bad breath is like, and that wasn't it.  But I questioned myself.  It wasn't very strong.

But it happened a couple more times.  I was hypersensitive about it though, was I imagining it?  I was pretty sure I knew the smell of alcohol, but would he really sneak a drink at home?  I saw him do it about a year ago and confronted him about it in marriage counseling and he admitted he had done it because he was anxious, and at about that time, he decided to stop drinking altogether.  That lasted for a few months, but he decided he could do without it, he had quit easily, and he could use it in moderation and talked about it with our counselor, and she seemed okay with it.  He does work in an environment where everyone drinks at business dinners, and it is extremely uncomfortable to the very few who do not.  I wouldn't believe it, but I've been to a business dinner of his.  I wasn't sure that this was the right decision, but honestly, I don't want to drink at dinner alone, and I don't want to drink if he's not drinking and is trying not to drink, so I was a little relieved, which I know is wrong of me. 

So he knows how I watch his drinking like a hawk, but lately, he has been using any excuse to drink.  It's not crazy drinking.  I mean, it's normal stuff to anyone else.  Cinco de Mayo, he wants to have a few beers.  We go to a Mexican restaurant on a night we don't normally go out for dinner, and he has a few beers.  It's not like he's buying a six pack and bringing it home and drinking it every night, or any night actually.  He doesn't drink at all at home as far as I know except what I suspect.  I know most people won't agree with me, but I just don't "get" drinking at home for no reason.  I know people have a glass of wine at night to "unwind" or whatever, but I don't understand it.  I just don't enjoy the feeling of alcohol that much so it's hard for me to relate and he knows that.  Social drinking?  Sure, it can be fun.  Drinking at home alone?  That seems wrong to me, but I come from a home of parents who drank and did drugs, so...it's probably natural for me not to want that as an adult, or to want that for myself either.

I've been checking up on his anxiety every so often, asking every few days how he's feeling, but by his actions, it's been escalating, but really got bad once we got back from our vacation.  Like out of control bad.  Everything and everyone was irritating him, he was on edge, but he still tried to be pleasant to me, make me happy, go running with me, showed me his office, went to a music festival with me.  But underneath it all, he was miserable.

So yesterday morning I once again asked about his anxiety and he said he was anxious, and I asked him if he knew what he was anxious about.  I had told him not that long ago that I had learned that sometimes I'm just anxious without a reason, yet my mind tries to attach it to ANYTHING to make sense of it, yet I have to remember it's only chemical.

He said "this is what I THINK it is."  And then he went on and on about how miserable he was, how depressed he was, how life had no meaning for him, and ended it with "I just want to die".  I was shocked. 

"I just want to die"?  That's a pretty serious statement.  I thought about that all day.  Is that suicidal?  Does someone have to say "I want to kill myself" suicidal, or is "I want to die" suicidal?  Either way, I didn't take it lightly, I was pretty alarmed and upset to hear that.

I can't count the number of times I've told him to go the psychiatrist, to go to a counselor, even our marriage counselor has asked him to come and see her on his own, and he won't.  She has known he's been going through something. 

I told him yesterday to go to a doctor, to get some help, and he said he refused to go to a psychiatrist.  He might go see our marriage counselor, but he would not go on drugs. 

I called him on the way to school when he was on the way to work, and he was once again extremely irritated at traffic, where he is at his worst when he is anxious.  I hadn't had a chance to say anything but greet him, and he started complaining about what lanes people were driving in, and how he had been driving 95 until some car had made him slow down to 75.  I told him I thought 95 was too fast in what I thought was not a mean way at all, just a "please be careful" way, and he went off on me.  He said something like I was just a civilian who had no right to tell him how fast to drive, only a police officer could tell him to slow down, or something like that, but very rudely.  I didn't say anything, I was like oooo-kay then, to myself.  I said "have a nice day, love you, bye" and hung up, because I sure wasn't going to make his anxiety worse by arguing with him.

So yesterday afternoon I finally told him, because I didn't know what else to do, that just like it is my responsibilty to take care of my mental health, it is his responsibilty to take care of his and he needed to do something about it.  I mean, what can I really do?  I can't force him to do or go anywhere.  I did threaten to leave him once years and years ago after the alcohol/xanax incidents if he didn't go to his pychiatrist and get help, and he did go.  But that was pretty extreme.  And I also called 911 and had him hauled to the emergency room when he overdosed which he is still mad about today.  But had he been coherent or even moving, he could have told them that he was okay and he didn't need them, and would remember actually being in the emergency room.

So he called me yesterday afternoon and said he felt much better, he got out of the office and went shopping, went to some place called Baretta, I guess it's an Italian gun place, and bought a case for his...uh, gun?  After years and years of telling me he didn't have one and didn't want to get one because I would shoot myself or him?  So I was happy he sounded better, but how could I not be upset that he had lied to me for years about having a gun, which I would have been okay with, I had suggested getting one many times?  It made me wonder, did he buy a gun at Baretta along with the gun case, or did he really have the gun all along?  He swears he had it all along and told me it was always unloaded in his trunk, and he was going to take a concealed weapons course.  I'm fine with that, but I got to thinking about the timing.  "I just want to die", and then he's thinking about guns?  It's not completely out of the blue.  Taking a concealed weapons course is on his list of things to do.  So it could be coincidental, or not.  He spent an hour or two cleaning the gun, and I looked carefully at his cleaning supplies, and they didn't look new, it looked like they'd been around somewhere for awhile.  I'm not sure how to process this yet.  I don't want to get mad at him because he's having such a difficult time.

Maybe it's a message after all.  I don't know what to think of it.

I see now how very, very difficult and hard it is to live with someone who is not taking care of themselves mentally.  Who could be so much better if they would just get help but won't.  It's FRUSTRATING, and I don't understand it!  If he would just be doing anything, I would be more understanding, not that he doesn't know that I'm not on the outside.  I will listen to him whenever he wants to talk about anything, which is not very often.  But I can't do this for him.  Only he has the power to help himself get better.

Wow, I didn't mean to write so much.  I thought it would just be about three paragraphs.  I must be more worried and frustrated than I thought I was.         

Back From Vacation!

My vacation was a lot of fun, but dramamine mixed with alcohol and probably my other medications is NOT a good combination for me.  Even though I took dramamine, I immediately felt incredibly motion sick on take off, so I took 3 klonipin hoping that would help.  I fell asleep, so it did, but of course it knocked me out.  We had gotten up at 3 am to take an early flight so we would have an entire day to spend doing things, but I had packed things up until midnight that night - not good.

I was doing my best to be a good sport, but then we went on a dinner cruise that night and that's when the alcohol got involved.  I drink a few glasses of wine about once a week with dinner when we go out, but this time I had champagne, I tried a martini for the first time, and I'm not sure what else.  All of a sudden, I got upset that they weren't "telling" us the sights as we were going by, which I thought they were going to do.  Mark was trying to be positive, I guess, and told me he could tell me what they were.  That made me SO ANGRY, I have no idea why.  I remember thinking who did he think he was, he didn't know, all he knew was from the internet, and I no longer wanted to be on that cruise with him.  I remember it was dark and the lights were twinkling from the city, and I could see cars going over bridges, and I was thinking, "I wish I was alone in one of those cars going to my own place where I lived by myself".  It was CRAZY!  I looked at my watch and announced to Mark "Well, I guess we have 40 minutes of THIS!", because, of course, we were trapped on the boat.  He isn't a dancer, so of course he never wanted to get up and dance.  I know, by the way I'm making it sound, it probably doesn't seem like I wanted to dance, but I did. 

Finally it was over, and we went to get a taxi to go back to our hotel at around midnight, but of course, no taxis, just as I had told him there wouldn't be.  So there were all of these people just standing around.  I have been there before and had problems getting taxis in the city, he told me he read they would be everywhere, so I was once again got angry, even though he had asked the taxi driver on the way over if there would be taxis after the cruise and he told him yes.  So we walked for BLOCKS and BLOCKS in my six inch heels and finally found a cab.  It's probably not a bad thing.  Physical exercise has a way of cooling down a temper.

But other than that, the trip was great.  We saw all the sights, walked so much that my feet were painfully, incredibily sore, and I don't understand that.  Mark had gotten up that morning and ran 10 miles, and walked the same distance I did, yet his feet didn't hurt.  I went and got a massage at the hotel for my legs and feet afterward, and the masseur said it was probably my shoes since I'm a runner.  So I've ordered new shoes.  I don't know if that's it.

On our first day, I went to a psychic because I've never been to one.  She told me things with tarot cards she couldn't have possibly known, but she also said a few things that I don't see how they could come true.  I guess the things in the past and present were basically true, so anything she told me about the future that I didn't like troubled me, and it kind of hung over me like a cloud for the rest of the day.  I know I shouldn't believe in that stuff, and I really don't, yet she said so much that was true, but at the same time, maybe what she said was true is true for most people, so she says it to everyone.

Mark was a trooper and went to a music festival with me today, which he has always hated.  He acted like he had a good time, at least he was a good sport about it. 

I missed FOUR days of school, when I only intended to miss two.  I missed an extra one at the beginning but I just ran out of time getting everything ready, and then I stayed home an extra day because I was so freaking tired and I wanted to spend time with my dog because I missed him terribly.

But then, after being gone so long and out of practice, I passed a Jury Charge test, with only 15 errors!  Wow, I was shocked, and so happy!  It has definitely motivated me more. 

On my trip, I gained about 3 or 4 pounds, and I can totally see it in the mirror.  Also, in the pictures Mark took, I see how fat I still am, and can TOTALLY not believe it.  But...it is inspiration to finish my weight loss and pick my running back up to where it once was.  I had slacked off running as many times a week as I was, so now it's time to get back to my regular schedule, and perhaps measuring everything I eat again.  Maybe even tracking it, too.  Ugh.  But, it works.

My hearing is out of control bad.  I tried to make an appointment to get my hearing re-checked to see if it had gotten worse on Friday, but the office had already closed.  I guess I'll go ahead and get hearing aids, it's ridiculous.  I'm tired of asking people to repeat what they said over and over, not hearing Mark or misunderstanding him, like, every sentence that he says.  Never hearing what our waiter is saying.  Not hearing the music in the car at all and Mark is actually singing the words to what he can hear.  The tours we took on vacation was the big eye-opener.  I just couldn't hear the tour guides.  I had to fight to make sure I was dead center whenever they moved.  If I was in the middle or the back of the group, I couldn't hear what they were saying.  I'm tired of living this way. 

I don't know if my dysphoria is gone.  I guess it is.  How do you know for sure?  Nothing has made me insanely upset, but does that mean there hasn't been a trigger?  I hate analyzing moods, and right now, I just don't have the energy.

When is Enough, Enough?

I'm so emotional today, I'm so unsure of myself, and I don't really know what's going on.  It's not that time of the month, what do "normal" feel on a regular basis?  I wish I knew.

There's some history with my sister-in-law.  I don't like her, she has a very unpleasant personality and I'm sure I've talked enough about her in my blog.  She doesn't seem to wish her brother or us well at all, nor does she seem to wish good things for us.  But she's like her brother, very passive agressive. 

So she sends this message in facebook to my other sister-in-law, Mark, and myself.  I don't check facebook, but I do have an app on my iphone that tells me when I have a notification.  So I read that she wanted us to get together with their mother for brunch on mother's day.  My other sister in law had already replied that they had plans, and right away she had responed it was okay, and something nice to her.  So I told her we were going on vacation and wouldn't be back in time.  Her response?  NOTHING.

So today Mark and I were in line at the pharmacy getting my NEW prescriptions (more on that later), and his bluetooth phone thing in his car goes off, and I hit "answer" on the screen.  It was his Dad.  He wanted to know if Mark knew that they were getting together for his Mom on mother's day.  What the HELL?  Oh my God, during their whole conversation, I could feel myself getting more and more angry.  I could hardly contain myself.  The anger was in the pit of my stomach and it was boiling over into every part of me, consuming me. 

So finally he gets off the phone, and I said "WHAT THE HELL?  You KNOW I replied to your sister and she was rude and didn't respond.  Why did she even ask if she didn't tell your Dad?  So now your Dad doesn't believe me?"  So he said "Maybe she didn't get the message", and logged onto facebook because HE has given up on the website too.  We both just hate it now.  But sure enough, there was my response to his sister with her response to his sister in law and none to me.

Maybe I over-reacted, but I'm just sick to death of his sister.  Why oh WHY did I think I had to "be the better person" and decide to tell her I wanted to put everthing behind us and send her a friend request in facebook for her to accept after I UNFRIENDED her for a FREAKING REASON!

We have NOTHING in common, we would never be friends under any circumstances, and I'm just tortured to have to spend time with her every year biting my tongue at her comments that are meant to torment me and dig at me.  As a matter of fact, I refused to be around her even once last year.  I haven't seen her since sometime in 2010.  Even her kids annoy me, not that they aren't good kids - they are.  Well behaved and cute.  But they're her kids, and that annoys me.

Am I over-reacting?  Maybe I am, because....

I went to my allergy/asthma/sleep disorder doctor, and it's a long story, but he gave me four prescriptions.  I went to get them filled, it was a big ordeal, an hour wait after I went an hour and a half later than they said they would be ready, to get home and find one prescription was missing, and another had only been partially filled and they didn't even bother to tell me.  I was so mad I was on the verge of breaking down and crying.  At the time, I knew it wasn't THAT big of a deal, but I couldn't help feeling what I felt.  I'd just HAD it. 

I really felt like, "Are you kidding?  What's the use?  I freaking give up!". 

But then I called the pharmacy, she felt so bad that she forgot to tell me and apologized about a million times for not telling me about the partial refill, and the one they forgot was actually over the counter.  She was so super nice about it though, that I realized it was a misunderstanding, no malice was meant, and I felt compassion for her.  I felt so much better.

So then I watched American Idol, and I started crying.  Just an emotional roller coaster!

But my doctor.  So yes, I'm taking new medication.  I took another allergy test, and found I'm allergic to dust mites.  That's kind of difficult, because they're like, everywhere, even in your skin.  He started talking about putting covers over my mattress and my pillows and I was like "whoa...are you kidding?".  Kind of like when the audiologist started talking to me about hearing aids - same reaction.   I said, "You know, I can wash them more often?", and he said in HOT WATER, who knows what else.  He then gave me prescriptions for Singular, Symbicort, an inhaler I've already used, Allegra, which I found was over the counter, and then wants me to start taking Ambien.

I'm about ready to say screw it, and throw all the drugs in the trash.  Screw bipolar, screw asthma and coughing, screw allergies, screw sleep.  When is ENOUGH ENOUGH?  I swear, I can NOT go to a doctor these days and have something NOT be wrong with me.  Is it a con?  Sure, I go there for a reason, but can't it be a quick fix that doesn't require long term lifetime medication?

Yes, thank you God for making the knowledge you give to doctors to cure us.  But how much do you really want for them to do for us, when does it become too much?  Or is that left for me to decide? 

What Is "Normal" Happy?

I no longer feel dyphoric, although I do seem to be back to talking a lot and generally in a good mood.  It's so confusing when you're just overall "happy".  When is it "too much"?  Why do I have to feel guilty about feeling happy and not bland and boring/bored?  I'm not doing anything irrational, buying only things I need, but I'm sure bipolars who spend too much money think they NEED everything they're buying.  But that's not the case.  I haven't spent money we don't have nor for things that I can't justify.  Besides, that's never been an issue for me.

I just sing along with songs, laugh at things, like to talk about things, tell stories, just back to my bubbly self.  Why does that have to be a BAD thing?  No one has ever actually told me that that was a bad thing.  It's when my mood is too high and the consequences from that is when it becomes a problem.  I don't want that, but I don't know WHEN it's a problem, and WHEN I am just genuinely happy!  I mean, I'm about to go on vacation!

Can't I just be happy and excited to go on a freaking vacation?  Why do I have to analyze every stupid mood I have to see "am I too high?  am I too low?  will I crash?  what if, what if, what if?"  I'm sick of it.

If I encounter a problem, there's a consequence, or someone brings my behavior to my attention, then I'll know for sure.  Until then, whatever.

My irritation may have subsided, but that does NOT mean I am over being upset with my "neighbors" that I don't consider my "neighbors".  That's what the police officer called them that wrote me the ticket for speeding on THEIR street in THEIR section.  They had a Cinco de Mayo party at the pool/clubhouse and for some reason the freaking mayor was there (???).  I had forgotten about it, not that I would have gone, but we drove by, and when I saw it, Mark was in the middle of a story.  I interrupted him and pointed to it and told him to stop.  I wanted to march over there and get to the bottom of the whole situation.  Would I really have done anything?  Confrontation isn't normally in my nature.  But just seeing all of them made me mad.  Of course the last thing Mark would have done is stop and let me out of the car. 

How have I reacted to getting and paying the $178.10 ticket that my "neighbors" imposed on me?  Not well.  If it was meant to get me to stop speeding on their street, they got the exact opposite.  If we are truly "neighbors", there are so many better ways to go about it than complaining to the POLICE.  How is that neighborly?  The thing is, I paid attention to my normal driving habits in my neighborhood.  Yes, in their neighborhood, I do speed.  But once I get past the gates into MY neighborhood, for some reason I slow down to about 20 instead of 45?  It may be the blind curves and hills that they just don't have.  Their area is straight away blocks. 

I cancelled the stupid, stupid neurology appointment my family doctor made for me for MOTION SICKNESS!  I'm starting to think that maybe he doesn't want me to be his patient because I'm bipolar.  Maybe that's not the exact reason, but maybe because he's afraid of mixing anything with my medications, I really have no idea.  Either way, he won't prescribe anything to me, which tells me he doesn't want to be my doctor.  I got to thinking - if I go to a neurologist for simple motion sickness medication for my trip, I would have to go through a whole neurology exam.  Seeing that I take so many psychiatric medications, sure, I probably have some funky neurological side effects.  And lately, every time I go to the doctor, something has been really wrong with me.  Even Mark admitted, if you go, you'll probably end up getting an MRI and who knows what else?  It's true, I am a magnet for problems right now.  He'll diagnose me with MS or something horrible.  If I don't go, then there's nothing wrong with me!  So the decision was pretty easy to make.  CANCEL THE APPOINTMENT! 

On a positive note, I tried on the same brand of jeans today that I wore in October of last year, and I dropped 2 sizes!  That's pretty amazing! : )  From 12 to 8, which I know may not seem that small to a lot of people, but my normal size is 6, so almost there!  Although, it does seem to me like sizes are bigger now?  Is that true?  Even my old clothes that I can wear now, it seems like they aren't as small as they seemed to be at the time.  It's a very odd thing.  Maybe I wasn't as thin as I thought I was.

Past Irritation

My agitation/anger finally ended but came to an explosion - well, for me, kind of a mini-explosion, a few days ago.

I was on my way to school, leaving the neighborhood, and a police officer on a motorcycle was at the end of the street right outside of the subdivision. He stopped me and told me to make a u-turn and park. I did, and he gave me a ticket for going 44 in a 30, but that's not what made me so mad. He told me that the police had been getting complaints from neighbors that people had been driving too fast on that street, but he was nice and said to call my neighbors that I knew to let them know he was out there, I assume so they wouldn't get tickets.

The more I thought about that, the more angry I got. Those neighbors, who I don't even consider my neighbors because we live in the gated part of the community and they don't, actually took the time to call the police and complain? We pay 3-5 times the HOA monthly fees than they do. They're not MY neighbors, they're the riff raff we keep out, and they have the nerve to call the police on me? See, this is what I was thinking, I'm not thinking it now. But I was thinking up all kinds of ways to get back at them, because they had caused me to get a ticket, and in my mind I could just see them peeking out of their windows watching me get a ticket and giggling to themselves. So I had decided that once I saw a cop was not at the end of the street, to speed down that street to get to the gated part where we live as often as I could. I mean, that's as irrational as it got. Woo, speed down a street, such a rebel - ha! But it consumed me so much that that was all I could think about. I was sitting in class at school, getting SO mad even hours later that I couldn't concentrate and had to leave school an hour early.

But now this is maybe Day 4 or 5 of doubling my Lamictal because I'd felt so incredibly agitated, and I feel completely different.  I noticed it on my way to school this morning.  I tried to put into words for myself at the time how exactly I would describe what I felt.  At first I thought I was melancholy, but no, I wasn't sad.  Then I thought I just didn't care about anything, and got concerned.  But that didn't really seem true either.

I think what has happened is I simply care LESS about everything.  Perhaps I had been so revved up about everything around me and I cared too MUCH that in comparison, it seems like I don't care at all.  In actuality, I think I just care less, which is a good thing!  I must admit, even feeling very angry seems kind of good in retrospect.  Just feeling something PASSIONATELY seems impossible for me right now.  It's like a night and day change emotionally.  It will take some time to adjust, to not feel like I'm "missing out" out something.  Like I'm going from a world full of color to a world full of soft and dark grays.

And I feel somewhat physically exhausted.  It could be that not sleeping through the night every night for so long has finally caught up with me.  I was up maybe an hour and half in the middle of the night last night.  Perhaps I no longer have the energy to do that and be okay without sleep any more.

I went to my family doctor today to get what I hoped would be ear patches for my motion sickness for our vacation next week, and he referred me to a freaking neurologist, because he didn't feel comfortable prescribing something not knowing what reaction something might have with what I currently take!  Really?  A neurologist for MOTION SICKNESS??  But now I feel like I don't have a choice.  Take dramamine and sleep all day, or go to the neurologist.  Damned if you do, damned if you don't.  And there's no guarantee that if I go to the neurologist he'll even give me any freaking medicine!
I am excited that our vacation is next week!  Although I must admit, it would have been nice to be that fun, bubbly, excitable person on our vacation, instead of maybe the boring, colorless person I might be instead.

Who is the real me?  The unmedicated me, but apparently, not one that is appropriate for the world to see.   Sure would be SO much less complicated!!!!
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