I was actually feeling quite well. These past couple of months have been quite stable. I’ve felt as though I finally found the right combination of meds. I thought that life was finally going to even out for me. Sure I’d be on meds for the rest of my life, but who cared if I was happy.

Well, vacation’s over. Curse you honeymoon period. Turns out what I thought would last  a life time lasted only long enough to give me false hope. What could it be this time? Let’s take a role call:

Depression: I am on the same dosage of generic Celexa as I was during my stable time. Okay, so admittedly I have been forgetting to take it on time, but I’ve only missed a couple of full days.

Bipolar Disorder: Still on the Seroquel XR at the same dosage. No real change there. Okay so there was that one night that I spent at my grandparents but forgot the Seroquel at my dad’s and didn’t sleep and then had a nervous breakdown the next day at my sister’s birthday party. But since then I’ve taken it religiously. I may have had a few hypomanic moments that past month but they have been too short lived to be a true hypomanic episode. Although I am pretty angry right now for no damn reason which can be indicative of the Bipolar, but also of PMS (which I also have)

Eating Disorder: I have been unhappy about my weight. The good news is since August I have dropped a whole pants size and 4 pounds. However I am still eating a diet full of junk food, although admittedly I haven’t been eating as much as I should lately. That has less to do with weight concerns and more to do with fatigue/laziness/lack of anything sounding good. I don’t keep a scale in the house, though I have been tempted. I could also probably use the energy boost that comes from not eating for a couple of days, but I hate the sound of my stomach growling so that’s not likely to happen.

BPD: I think there’s a general agreement that I’m cured of this, if I even had it in the first place. Of course as I begin to slip back to my old friend, those symptoms are starting to become more noticeable.

ADHD: Still on the medication…sometimes. This is admittedly the medication I most often forget to take. Hence the lack of memory, low attention span, inability to focus, etc. However, I don’t think that has anything to do with depression (except for giving me more ammo against myself).

Seasonal Affective Disorder: Ah, here’s the culprit. Though it has never been written down on paper, my first therapist noticed the signs and my first effective psychiatrist “prescribed” a sun lamp (which is sitting up stairs in the closet). Apparently the SAD is not affected by simplistic human medicine. It’s the only thing I can figure.

So what exactly am I feeling. There are moments when I laugh, and do enjoy myself. But they only last the moment. As long as the stimulus no longer holds my attention I go back to feeling somewhat morose. Angry for no reason: check. Self-degradation: check. Feeling all alone in the world: check. My current job situation certainly doesn’t help. For those of you who have previously read my blog know I used to work at a college. Well, since moving for my husband’s job I now work retail. And this shit is hard work. I feel like crap everyday because I don’t meet any of my standards and I get to read that everyday when looking at stats. I am also now convinced that the managers like the new hire better than me. Don’t get me wrong, I like her too. I’ve invited her to hang out with me though the invitation hasn’t yet been accepted. And if the managers like her better then perhaps she can take my job of having a key and managerial responsibilities without managerial pay. But there is that problem of the constant need for approval I have. So yeah, it hurts a little. The result? I spend half my time at work miserable and depressed without the pay to make it worth it.

Money. Sigh. We’re making it, just living paycheck to paycheck. I appreciate the blessing of just making it. But the insurance through my husband’s work sucks and doesn’t cover mental health. I keep forgetting to call Medicaid to see if they cover that. I’m currently covered for family planning so I get GYN appointments and birth control free. As for my asthma, it’s cheaper to get my inhalers through Costco than through my insurance. I need to get some kind of mental health coverage stat. My old psychiatrist won’t give me another prescription. And I should probably see a therapist considering how down I’m feeling. I know I’m getting depressed, but I’m not THERE yet.

The funny thing is my last post in August was about my group of friends, and those feelings have not gone away. I still feel very distant from them. Definitely pretty sure I won’t be a bridesmaid at my friend’s wedding. My list of bridesmaids for my wedding (yes we’re married, but didn’t get to do the big shebang so we’ll be doing some sort of vow renewal) is whittling down quite a bit.

I just feel like I have no friends and that’s pretty pathetic. I keep bugging my husband about wanting a baby but he’s being logical and doesn’t want one until we’re more financially stable. Granted there are some days where I feel like I’ll be an unfit mother.

So all in all just not feeling that great about myself lately. And it’s only the beginning of the season. And now Daylight Savings ended, so it gets darker a hell of a lot earlier. And it still has to get much colder and cloudier. Well F me, I guess it’s time to pull that stupid lamp out. How awkward.

It hurts to think how far apart we’ve drifted. What hurts more is they don’t seem to think of me as often as I think of them.

I will be the first to admit I’m horrible at keeping in touch (just look at how bad I am with blogging). And I’ve felt so guilty and kept thinking if only I would communicate more than this wouldn’t be an issue. But today I realized something. I have been putting in an effort. I am 99% of the time the one who initiates contact, with varied responses. There are two friends that usually respond after some time. There are two others that never respond. One of those friend I’ve suspected I was not as good a friend as I thought. Ever since I was not a bridesmaid at her wedding. I know it’s a stupid thing to get upset about. But the only other friend who was not included (and this includes those who were added to the “circle” without unanimous agreement) was the one who was married and lived 300 miles away and couldn’t even make the wedding. Like the week before the wedding she asked me to be an usher. I was just surprised to be invited.

Now I have another friend who’s engaged. She at least called me to tell me about the engagement. But I haven’t heard from her since and I’m expecting to once again be excluded.

Perhaps it’s time to give up this dream. This dream that we will always be friends. Perhaps it’s time to realize I only have one best friend. The one that is an (admittedly) codependent relationship. A relationship which several people have advised is not healthy. But how do I leave her alone and leave me friendless?

It just sucks that what I’ve always feared may be true: I was only, am only, a friend of convenience. Friend forever doesn’t mean anything when you’re 1,000 miles away. And they have the luxury to forget about me. They didn’t leave everything behind and move somewhere where they didn’t know anyone. I however only have my husband. And when he’s at work I have plenty of time to be bored and think about my so-called friendships.

I used to be convinced that I was destined to be alone. Then I got married and I thought I had been proven wrong. Now I think it was never meant to be literal. But rather I would always feel alone.

So, do I save myself further pain and let go of this false hope. I’m sure they’ll all get along just fine.

Another thought. Is it simply coincidence that they drifted away after my mental issues were revealed, or is it cause and effect.

Oh well, I guess I’m left to continue to search for the plug of this gaping whole.

On a completely different note, the spam commenters are getting trickier. So I apologize if legitimate comments get marked as spam.

Once again I must apologize for my silence. I used to be so much better about blogging. The good news is that if I’m not posting it usually means I’m doing okay instead of the opposite.

I am officially moved in in my new town. I do mean town. As in, 20,000 people. That was the population at the university I worked at! I’m looking for a job, which looks like is going to be in retail. Quite the pay decrease, but at least my husband is earning more now. I have an interview on Wednesday for a clothing store. It’s a part time position. If I get it I will probably look for a 2nd job. I’m bummed because I turned in an ap almost 2 weeks ago to an agency that works with adults with disabilities and haven’t heard anything. I sent an email on Monday and was told I “may” receive a call from someone. :p Whatever.

In the mean time I would like to say I’ve been productive, but I’ve actually been fighting a cold. A really bad cold. And I don’t have any inhalers. (The one medication I didn’t refill before my insurance got snatched from me.) So I’ve spent 2 weeks suffering from major asthma attacks and coughing fits. I am finally starting to feel better. Just in time for my inhaler from Costco to arrive. (It will probably be here Monday.) Oh, the irony of it all. I had to call my doctor’s nurse to get her to put in a prescription with Costco because I could actually afford their prices for my inhalers (both name brand). I get my generics from Walmart, but they don’t have a price list for name brand medications and Costco does. Thankfully my doctor filled for 6 months (which I couldn’t afford in one go) so at least I will have back up if my husband’s insurance doesn’t kick in before I need a refill.

I have been a little productive. I’ve been doing more as I’ve been feeling better. Almost everything is unpacked and (almost) put away. And by unpacked I mean the things we need. I repacked a lot of our things and shoved them in the closet in the second bedroom. We’ll have to move in a year, so there’s no point in unpacking all of our stuff. It’s been difficult figuring out where to put things. We’ve gone from a 3 bed, 2 bath apartment to a 2 bed, 1 bath house (rental). We’ve traded in a secure storage space off our balcony for a basement that may or may not leak. We live in a flood area so I’m not willing to risk it. But at least we have a backyard for the dog. I will spend more time out there as soon as I can get my husband to spray it for bugs. We have a lot of mosquitoes and they have always liked me. My blood must seem to them as coconut cream pie seems to me. And on top of it I’m allergic to mosquito bites so I end up having huge red, itchy welts. Apparently there are different type of mosquitoes that you can react to differently. Well, I think I’m allergic to all of them, but these ones leave “bruises” after the bite is gone.

But long story short the house is livable. And aside from my inhalers I am good on meds (except for birth control but I will be taking a trip to planned parenthood for that). I was able to get a 90 day supply of the Strattera and Seroquel XR from my psychiatrist. And Walmart changed my 2 tablets of 20mg (generic) Celexa fro 1 tablet of 40mg. When I got the original prescription the 40mg wasn’t available at the $4 price, but now it is. Thank you pharmacist at Walmart for changing that for me. Now I get 90 days for $10 instead of $20. For those of you who take generics, I recommend Walmart. Even if you have insurance, it’s cheaper not to use it for certain meds. Walmart will only apply insurance if you ask them. I usually don’t endorse Walmart as a company, but I think they are actually doing better on the humanitarian front and you just can’t beat their prices. I have discovered a new grocery store that me and my husband LOVE! It has great selection at good prices. And, it’s employee owned. Love that!

So aside from physical health, I am doing rather well.

I am sorry that I have not been reading the blogs I follow. I hope you are all well.

I just finished watching an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. It featured a character who was schizophrenic. It struck me that she was aware of her disease, and yet she lived a life of childlike fantasy. Now to be honest, my only experience with someone with schizophrenia is my aunt, who at this point I am no longer sure if she actually has that diagnosis anymore. She was first diagnosed with schizophrenia and later bipolar. I don’t know if with the bipolar diagnosis they discovered she wasn’t schizophrenic or if she has both. Either way before she was rightly medicated, she was an angry, scary, unpredictable woman who caused my father a lot of pain growing up. So this image of schizophrenia, along with the subject in The Autobiography of a Schizophrenic Girl, is starting to change my understanding of schizophrenia.

But that is not — directly — what this post is about. The character’s child-like innocence (and I have to admit I fell in love with her character) got me thinking about the whole debate about creativity and mental health. There is a bit of a (somewhat silent, depending on your circles) disagreement over whether mental illness helps creativity and/or whether medication stunts that creativity. Up to this point I have been on the fence about it and didn’t really know which was true. I think I’m starting to lean toward a certain stance.

It is pretty widely accepted that some of Western civilization’s (which leads to another question as to the cultural relativity of mental illness–but another time) greatest artists, authors, and poets suffered from mental illness. It is pretty widely known that Edgar Allen Poe (a favorite of mine) suffered from some pretty dark depressions. I mean just reading his poems–well, I shouldn’t joke about that. Emily Dickinson was a recluse, and I don’t know if it’s been verified but I know of rumors that she suffered from mental illness. I heard something about Van Gogh (sp?) but don’t take my word for it. My favorite poet wrote a poem about suicide: Robert Frost’s A Dust of Snow (it may just be called Snow).

From my own personal experience, I am most creative when I am depressed. I just don’t have the energy to live out that creativity. I am also highly creative when I am hypomanic, but I don’t have the where-with-all to take pen or pencil to paper. Due to the ADHD I don’t remember these sparks of creativity.

Enter medication. Since stabilizing in my medication, I am less prone to creative impulses. However, they may come less frequently, but I am able to remember them. So that though an idea for a painting emerged during a depression (and possible act of self-injury), I have been able to retain the memory of the image so that I can paint it when I get a chance.

So, yes, I believe mental illness does spark creativity. I also believe that medication helps maintain a longer lifespan. So, since being stable I haven’t written any poems. I haven’t continued my fanfiction. Inspiration for art is few and far between. And that is hard for someone who has defined herself in part by her creativity. It’s one of my strengths in a job interview. It helped me survive my childhood.

But being medicated has allowed me to get married and stay married. It has helped me be more successful in my job than even I thought I was. It has helped me get rid of major credit card debt. It has helped me to begin advocating for myself. It has helped me remember to feed my pets, who I love as my children. It has helped me even think of having children as a possibility.

So yes, I vote on the side that medication does dampen your creativity–or at least it does mine. But I would rather have 20 creations in 20 years, than the same amount in 1 year only. Because if I wasn’t on these medications, my last creation would be my own corpse.

So was the questions posed by John Stewart on Wednesday’s “The Daily Show”. He was talking about how there could have been very deep probing questions after the debacle of what’s her name (the 80-something white house news correspondent who abruptly retired after putting her foot in her mouth). Instead, it seemed that every single news source was wondering who was going to take her seat in the FRONT ROW. Yes, instead of wondering about censorship, blind allyship, etc., reporters care more about who gets the FRONT ROW seat. And, as John Stewart so aptly put it, there’s really nothing that great about the FRONT ROW seat. In fact, that FRONT ROW is in a very tiny room. And the people in the FRONT ROW have not exactly been asking pungent questions as of late.

Now, I will gladly admit that I get all my news information from John Stewart these days, so my views and thoughts are completely biased. But, interesting nonetheless?

But onto less thinking-required topics. I am quite bored and quite lonely. My husband got promoted. Two hours away from where we live. We had less than a week to find a place to live and move. He’s there now as we thankfully found a place. I’m still here with the kiddos as I have to finish this last week of work. What it means though is that I’m sitting in the apartment with no method of leisure but the computer completely alone (except for the pets). And surfing the internet is not all that exciting. Of course there’s cleaning to be done, but a lot of it can’t be done until I can get someone to transport all the furniture we’re donating.

And on this lonely, boring Saturday night, I suddenly felt particularly distanced from my college friends. We were a pretty close group, and I feel like I don’t know what’s going on with any of them. I sent an email last week with updates and have so far gotten no replies. I sent another one today to tell them about the promotion, so we’ll see. I know, I know, don’t read too much into it. They all have busy lives. People drift apart, it’s natural. But man I didn’t want to lose these girls. I just feel like a million miles and a thousand years away from them. And of course none of them are as addicted to Facebook as I am.

I’m starting to wonder if I should wean myself off of my Facebook habit. Here’s the conflict: not only does Facebook take up time, but it’s a stress reliever. After a long day at work I can go work on my “farm”. Yes, I am one of those annoying Farmville people. And I understand people get sick of seeing those statuses. But guess what, I don’t always care about theirs! You know what I do? I ignore the damn statuses I don’t care about. Not to mention you can block applications and they won’t show up in your feed. I actually had an old professor (who is also facebook friends with me) message me and ask me to change my settings so that my Farmville status updates don’t show up to all my friends. Are you kidding me? Not to mention I could not find this “magic” setting. So I told her to just block the damn thing. I was so angry I seriously considered defriending her (borderline rage, anyone?). Even now the whole thing makes my blood boil. Grrr. I think it’s probably also because I go on facebook for these two aps, not even connecting anymore really, because none of my friends use it for that. In fact, if there was a way to play Farmville out of Facebook and still get all the privileges, I’d do it in a minute. But the problem is that the thing that makes it worth playing is the bonuses you get from other people’s statuses!

Wow, I had no idea this was going to turn into a rant about Farmville, of all things. That is so lame. I apologize, if you’ve even continued reading.

But I do feel rather glum right now. A mixture of everything really. And I haven’t slept well the past couple of nights. And the Seroquel doesn’t even really make me drowsy anymore. So I can’t sleep through this boredom.

Please, just let it be Friday.

But Howie Day’s “Collide” just came on Pandora. Perhaps things are looking up?

We went to my husbands manager’s house for a BBQ. It was a work thing, everyone there either works there or is the family of someone who works there. I was feeling very left out in the beginning. For some reason my husband would not talk to me and everytime I tried to be near him he would go off some where else. And then the two women there, well they’ve known each other for a while. So they can totally have a good time with each other without even thinking of me. So I just kind of stood off to the side and watched. The only ones really talking to me were the kids.

It eventually got better. But then when my husband asked if I had a good time I said yeah. He said that wasn’t very convincing. So then I told him how things started out. He said I was being over-sensitive. Because I tend to be super sensitive about things. So I guess I’m always going to be doomed to be overly sensitive so my opinion or feelings don’t matter.

You know, I often complain I don’t know who I am. Who the hell cares anyway?

Today was one of those days where it was a bad simply because how I was feeling. A little bit of tiredness from my endeavor yesterday (more on that later). Grumpy because this time I am definitely pmsing. And then my acid reflux decided to flare up. It started with I wasn’t feeling very hungry. But 1:00 rolled around and I knew I needed to eat something so I went to the potluck my department was having. Well, by the time I got there there was slim pickings. And the things I got — I took one bite and it felt like the food was burning a hole in my throat. Needless to say I didn’t eat anymore (oh and I forgot to mention that I went to work with a sore throat. I thought maybe I was getting sick but now I think it was GERD). So I come home and I have a bag of popcorn. I was able to eat that okay. I was sitting around and had a really bad headache and was beginning to feel like it was turning into a migraine. I thought it was because I only had one cup of caffiene today so I went to McDonald’s to get a Caramel Frappe (which are AMAZING by the way). That went down okay but I still have the headache. And about an hour ago my acid reflux majorly flared up. So now my dinner is going to be soy milk, maybe some bread and butter. When it gets this bad, bland and boring is the way to go.

So my endeavor yesterday. I did Habitat for Humanity yesterday. If you haven’t heard of it google it. It’s an amazing organization. I helped put up the frame for the roof. I learned important things yesterday. One, I have no arm strength. I made Barbie look butch with the trouble I was having hammering. Two, sweat in your eyes can blind you. Three, I can work with a jackass as long as I know and he knows he’s a jackass. Four, I missed my calling in construction. I felt so fulfilled after working for four hours. And it’s a way more interesting workout than hitting the gym. And it’s the kind of job when you can see immediate results. Four hours later and a house frame with a flat top suddenly begins to look like a real house. My day job doesn’t allow for such immediate, concrete results. They’re much more subtle and take longer to achieve. I could totally see myself in construction, after some major bench pressing of course. I plan to do this weekly this summer, though I am bummed that I have to miss next week. But the week after, I’ll be back.

I did find out this evening that that family member is back in the hospital. But this is actually okay because they’ll keep them longer so hopefully things will get stabilized. I’m not too worried about this particular incident, but the overall picture scares me. The health is failing, and this person has been a major part of my life. I’ve been dreading this moment for years, and it’s hard to think that it might actually come to it. That this person really can’t live forever.

So all in all an interesting day. I think the blessing of not feeling well is that I feel so bad physically that I don’t have any room in my brain or body for a major emotional reaction. The tears are there somewhere, but I don’t think they’ll fall.

And yes, I still haven’t gotten to reading your blogs. I don’t know what’s going on with me but I am absolutely useless lately. My meds have changed again. I’m now up to 250mg on the Seroquel XR. The Strattera has leveled out at 80mg but the time I take it keeps changing. I was taking it in the AM but it made me drowsy. Then when I took it at night I couldn’t get to sleep and had really distressing dreams (beyond the typical odd dreams I usually have). So now I’m taking it in the afternoon. I’m supposed to take it at 1:00m, but I keep forgetting to take it to work, so I take it when I come home. Until I get the Strattera on a routine for several weeks, I’m not going to see the effects. And that’s frustrating.

I did look up a place that does alternative healing in my area. I sent an email to see if I could schedule a consultation. I know I need some spiritual and energy healing, I just don’t know the best methods for what I need. I do know I need to get to church. I just need to force myself to get up and go.

So, this was kind of long. Kudos if you made it this far. Please take this virtual cookie of your desired flavor (I have all kinds). Let me know what kind you got!

My ability to focus had been shot. Well, I can do short stints of chores, but I can’t do things like read, or write, or watch TV even. Kind of a pain really. It may be some kind of hypomanic thing. I’ve had trouble sleeping the past couple days but was fine when I woke up (on a few hours of sleep). But then again I did take naps today and yesterday. Has anyone else experienced hypomania but still sometimes need to take naps?

Thursday and Friday I stayed home sick from work. I was feeling feverish. I think two things were happening. I think my meds are messing with my body temperature. I’m getting night sweats (which apparently can be caused by antidepressants) and hot flashes during the day. These were even before the 90 degree weather hit. Although I think part of the night sweats is this: I sleep under the comforter, sweat, and then I’m freezing so I snuggle deeper and the cycle starts over. It may also have to do with the fact that the dog sleeps at my feet. Thank goodness my husband doesn’t mind, cuz if we had to change the sheets every morning, we’d need a set for every day of the week. The other thing about being sick was I had a lot of anxiety from the training. I was really anxious on Monday. Was okay Tuesday but ended up leaving pissed off. And then Wednesday I brought up examples of elitism in our department and that almost gave me a panic attack. I had a feeling the higher ups wouldn’t like it, but those who were not so high up seem to be very glad that I said it. Apparently everyone else felt the same way, but I was the only one with the balls to say something. I think I’ve gotten so disenheartened by the school that I’ll go ahead and put my ass on the line. The training, I have mixed feelings. On one hand I think it was good and I really got to know the other side of certain people. On the other hand, a) I doubt anything is going to come of this, and b) I hate it when people sit in a room and talk about social justice but then don’t actually live it. Drives me crazy (pardon me for the word use). I’m not saying I’m perfect all the time. I have my moments, but at least it’s a guiding principal in my life.

I have a psychiatry appointment tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it because I think we might settle on prescriptions. Although we might not since I haven’t had any real consistency in my reaction to the meds. I’m too the point now that the seroquel doesn’t put me to sleep really. That could be the Strattera since it causes insomnia, but that would be weird since it made me drowsy before. I may actually be hypomanic and that’s complicating things. Or my body may just be completely confused and is refusing to react consistently to medications. Tomorrow morning I think I’ll go through this blog and look at how things have been since the med changes.

I think my sister might be bipolar. I’ve been thinking for a while everything stems from her borderline asberger’s syndrome. However, she really does get incredibly irate for no reason, or she’ll be super excited and talk really loud. And when she was younger she tried to jump off the balcony on numerous occassions and even tried to jump out of the car while it was moving. I’m no psychiatrist, but I wish she would see someone who can seriously analyze her behavior. She was seeing a therapist but that person was an idiot. They just took everything my sister said at face value, without digging deeper. Basically my sister remembers things that just didn’t happen. Some of it is legit, but some of it I think is an unconscious attempt to make sense of all her psychological issues. Me, my brother, and my sister all have them. I just don’t know if they’re all diagnosable. But it does run in both sides of our family (mental illness I mean).

You know this was supposed to just be a check in as I didn’t think I felt like blogging, but look what happened! I guess I had more to say than I realized. For those of you whose blogs I follow, I apologize for not reading them lately. I will follow again when my mind is a little unsettled. But until then, do know that I hope all is well with you.

Well, I should attempt to go to bed. So, good night all.

Oh one more thing. It’s been a while since I started the zine, and I have heard some interest but have gotten no emails. If you have a poem, essay, blog post, song, video, art, etc. about mental illness and/or identity that you would like featured in a zine (online magazine) send them to me at arifaery@gmail.com.

I was at this psych clinic. It reminded me of the building of my first real therapy, and the facility I go to now. I go in and I’m really confused. I don’t know about what. I go up to the window telling them I’m there for the group session. They give me a stack of books. Then they said the group had already started and they’d have to call. But the counselor in charge of the group came up, and it was a woman from the pagan group I was going to. As I’m walking through the door I see my first real therapist. I don’t know whether he recognizes me, so I duck my head to avoid an awkward reunion. I go through the door and am totally overwhelmed. The place looks like a library and all the groups are in there. Some areas are sectioned off while other groups are differentiated by putting chairs in a circle. I get totally lost. I return to the front desk and the nurse takes me to my group. I sit down. Several things occurred during the group. One was that the group was disorganized and not run well at all. I eventually noticed a coworker (one I don’t like) was in the group as well. At that point I made the decision to change groups when this session was over. We ended up watching tv and i was super unfocused. Then the therapist asked me a question but I didn’t know what she said. She repeated it and it had something to do with what do we do with animals we don’t like. The group next to us suddenly had these two girls get into a fight, and this group was run by an intern. I later found out the group was for people trying to quit smoking–there were 4 people. My group therapist jumped up to help the intern get the situation under control. Her method was not unlike what my father would have to do if one of the autistic students he was working with got violent. Then she came back. That group left and came back and the girl that started the fight made a snappy comment about how we had taken their room. And then we all as a group got up together and started taunting the other group. It stayed verbal, and we one. Then some of the board of directors came down to chastise my therapist. She said it was handled well. And one of the BoD guys said except you were _____ (I don’t remember exactly what, some kind of hand motions). Well group was over and I got to the front desk to return the books and cancel any further services. First I get cut in line by at least two people. So I decide to make a very important phone call. I don’t know to whom or for what. But just when the person picked up the phone I was able to catch the attention of one of the receptionists, so I put the guy on hold. I told them I was returning the books. Another nurse said the only way to get those is to check them out from there. And I said well I also want to cancel any further appointments. They were surprised and one of the nurses said oh you probably can’t handle it. And I said yeah because of the way the building was set up, and it was loud and chaotic. I told her I was overstimulated. I meant to say it was an ADHD thing but it never got out. So finally I’m dismissed after I tell them that I am seeing another therapist and I’m going to stick with her (at this point I was talking about my current therapist in real life). As I was walking out I look down at my phone it realize the guy hung up on me, AND my battery was dying. So instead of calling back I called and left a message with my husband that I was on my way home. I was rather surprised he hadn’t called to see where I was. I get in my car to drive home. At one point I was squeezing between a van double parked in the wrong direction and the curb (or another car). Then suddenly my car turned into a large grocery cart and I was going from front to back inside a family’s van and was finally able to get out through the trunk. (The area in which this occurred was exactly like this area near my current psychiatrist and the hospital my insurance covers). The last part of my dream I remember is walking my dog in the park. Except that instead of my small dog, this was a big dog. And the park was full of people–either from the therapy library building or people I know in real life. The dog was dragging me along the park. We finally made it home but I don’t remember anything after that.

I woke up 10 minutes before my alarm, dripping in sweat. I felt like I had once again had to drag myself out of a dream. I got up immediately because I felt sweaty and disgusting, and because I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in that bed. Now I’m a bit disoriented and disturbed. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience and I’m tired.

Not how I wanted to start my first day of training from hell.