NOPE Is Not An Option

I need to go town. My immediate thought is NOPE. The trips to town are taking so much out of me, with the panic attacks and paranoia, and I am not feeling energized this morning in spite of decent-ish sleep…But I’ve put it off as long as I can. The cats have half a cup of food left so…I can’t nope this one away. I think I missed when I simply didn’t have the money to go to town so when I said nope, I had a legit excuse other than…I’m fucking insane.

And make no mistake, I am feeling insane. In the space of a few weeks I’ve gone from ‘feeling okay-ish’ to feeling like “If I don’t wake ip tomorrow, that’s okay”. If this is my NP’s idea of improvement, maybe she’s the insane one. And what truly pisses me off is that if she had just left me on 300mg Wellbutrin WITH the Zoloft, I might not have gone downhill so fast. At least not with the depression. The panic attacks have turned me into the former agoraphobic I was for the better part of two years after a shitty doctor banned all benzos and treated my anxiety with low doses of Seroquel. That was fucking useless. And I left my apartment twice a month-for bill paying and for food. Other than that, my apartment was my prison. Because leaving caused me so much anxiety. Then my sister made some calls and found me a new shrink in town and within a month of seeing her, I had a proper diagnosis and proper medication that was helping more than it was hurting. I guess I am living for that twist, praying this center keeps its revolving door of providers and maybe one decent one will make their way in.

That doesn’t really provide me with much immediate hope, though. They’ve been talking telepsych since the start of the year and it hasn’t happened yet. I need less conservative treatment. I’ve got a Baskin Robbins of conditions that need major treatment, not dabbling by someone who thinks less is more even if it means my quality of life sucks.

So today’s task will be getting dressed and forcing myself into the car into town. Never mind the dishes and laundry piled up. Just a few weeks ago I was at least managing to keep up with that. I KNEW her yanking me off the dual regimine was going to fuck me over. You can tell how agitated I am by how many times I make various usage of the word fuck. It’s offensive to many but for me, it’s cathartic. If I didn’t swear, I’d be back to smashing plates in the trash can or taking a hammer to shit to get the aggression out. I find it odd that society frowns on swearing yet somehow respects violent acts like punching someone. Fuck that and fuck them.

I really dread going to town. Damn myself for forgetting catfood when I was there Saturday. That is why I try not to shop when Spook is with me. She yaps so much that even with a list I forget stuff because I am just focused on getting it done and getting back to my safe space. I am really tired of living this way. I just don’t know how to break out of whatever this funk I am in is. Though when it’s clinical depression and anxiety, it really isn’t just a rut or a funk you can snap out of. I need my brain chemicals to start sending me proper messages, consistently. That Abilify fail really set me back. Now that I am feeling so low, I really wish I’d just tried harder to deal with the side effects. But I know I tried my best and they were just that bad.

Mental health issues truly are a damned if you do, damned it you don’t situation.

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