I am, for the most part, anxious Numbo. But I can feel the mood shift coming, and it’s gonna be a dark one. It’s tugging at my brain, clouding things in a gray haze…It’s coming. I know I am supposed to fight it, spew some sunshine, blah blah. My attitude is, I’m out of bed and dressed, what more do you want from me?

My mom called me at 2 a.m. telling me Spook was screaming in pain with an earache. I offered to come get her, take her out to the ER but honestly, other than an anti biotic, they weren’t going to do a thing for her. She stayed, though when I called this morning, the kid apparently kept mom up most of the night. Welcome to my world. She is an active child. Mom said, “I don’t know how you do it, I can’t keep up with her.” I barely can. Though the hyper thing is easier than the nonstop chatter. Just can’t handle rapid fire noise.

I went and fetched her before the arranged time because mom s0unded exhausted. Ha ha ha. She’s always carrying on about how hard my sister works and how tired she is all the time. Well, she had fifteen years of not working or even raising her own kid to save up the energy while I was working my ass off trying to be stable. It’s less bitterness and more…unlevel playing field. No matter how hard I battle, my mom always makes it seem like my sister has it worse. Considering what she’s married to…Maybe she does. I couldn’t stand a husband who refused to work or even do household chores. Alone is better than that. Meh.

Since returning home…The trip into the dish and the sunshine gave me a headache. My child has been in my face,yap yap yap, making my head hurt worse. I really want a dark quiet room. Not happening with Uzi child.

The descent. It’s there, tugging, pulling. I thought maybe before I picked her up today I’d  hit some yard sales. I didn’t feel the slightest inclination to stop when I drove by one. And once again, I wonder, what happened to me? Why am I suddenly numb to everything but the bad stuff? (And even that is gauzy and wrapped in latex.) I think I can stop blaming the Latarda now. I think this is the Trileptal. I don’t fucking like it, it’s as bad as Lithium haze. But if I don’t agree to the doctor’s “med flavor of the week” I can be noted as non compliant. Shit. I don’t agree with him that Lamictal was the problem. I don’t want him to take me off it. I don’t like Trileptal or at least how I’ve felt since I started it.

When he broached taking me off Lamictal he said, “I know you like it because it has few side effects, but I think Trileptal is the better choice.” Okay, first off, I’ve been going to shrinks for twenty years and this is the first time EVER one has ever mentioned this Trileptal shit. Second, what is with guilt tripping me for wanting a med that doesn’t give me ass trash side effects? How is it non compliant to not want to live your daily life shrouded in side effects? I mean, would the doctor take a Tylenol for a headache if it also gave him hives, the shits, and impotence? I doubt it. But that’s what we have with psych meds. Suffer multiple “inconveniences” we didn’t have just to treat the one thing we do have. Nutsy frigging kookoo.

Is it bedtime yet? I need darkness and quiet.

I caved and started watching Orange Is The New Black. Thus far…Not all that interesting. Sometimes hype is just hype. Only reason I watched it was because of a line I heard on izombie. Something about tampon sandals on Orange Is The New Black. Hmmm…Yeah, had to know. Now I don’t care. Two episodes, if it doesn’t start interesting me, I’m done.

Since I am feeling obligated to spew sunshine since venting is akin to feeling sorry for oneself (I dispute it whole heartedly)…I’ve dealt with both family factions already today so the rest of my weekend should be family free. That’s a relief. I sound awful but…You have to know them. Toxic doesn’t begin to cover it.

I should do some housework. But for now, since I can’t even find my Tylenol, and the child is stomping and screaming…I’m just gonna dim the lights and hope the headache dies down.

Tug tug. Descent beckoning. It was bound to happen, going off an SSRI and onto an SNRI. So far, the Prozac withdrawal has been minimal, just some tingling numbness in my fingertips. No brain zaps, thank the sacred spork. Those brain zaps make you understand shock treatment better.

I think it will be an early bedtime tonight. I stayed up til nearly two thirty a.m. last night and got up before nine, so I’m feeling lethargic. Whine and cheese, right? Blah.

Now this is my idea of spewing sunshine.





6 Responses to “Descent”

  1. Ugh, venting does help, for me though, I have trouble putting it to words & I don’t wanna complain to my family, they sympathize but I don’t wanna feel whiny/attention seeker (they’ve never acted odd about it) my family is dysfunctional) but we all get along well, which is rare (Mom, 2 sisters, brother, *my Daddy died in 2001) I still feel fucked up mentally/have lots of issues. You must have a hard time coping too! Get on your Pegacorn, raise your sporks to the ‘jaunting’ position & CHARGE!!!

  2. What the fuck with the shrink though. I think if we already accept to deal with meds that break 20 things to fix 1, we should at least get a say in which one we prefer. *narrowed eyes* I can’t deal with fuckerwraps.

    • I agree with you Zoe. At least my psych nurse listens to me and takes me off when I tell her I am having a problem and searches for something new to try. I don’t understand some of these drs.

  3. You made me laugh so much with the last picture! Stil laughing indeed, hahaha!

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