Lost It, Again

I lost it in the office at the psych's. Completely, utterly broke down. Shaking, sobbing. I think I used half his tissue box. I couldn't stop. And he just sat there and let me cry, which made me feel stupid and dumb and broken. I admitted I hadn't been med compliant and that I couldn't keep up with the hydration on the Lithium to offset the side effects. And when he suggested Abilify, I had to shoot that down because I'd been on it and gained 50lbs. And that's when my last psychiatrist suggested bariatric surgery rather than meds. What the fuck?

So I'm out in the parking lot outside the office, calling Jb, because I suddenly realize what day it is and that he's not getting paid 'til next Friday, and I blew all our foodstamps on food for, like, 4-5 days and a bunch of crap, and we've a whole other week we need groceries for. So I fucked up. And I'm bawling on the phone to him about that. And I can't stop. I can't stop crying. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Fucking roller coaster, and I want off. But no, the psych says, "That seems to be symptomatic of your illness." So it's official: I'm a rapid cycler.

Anway, prescription changes: off the Lithium. Still on the Lamictal and Klonopin. Wellbutrin is now gone. Zoloft has been up from 50 to 100MG.

Everybody's Comin' to Get Me

Last night, paranoia hit me hard. It's been hitting me on and off for a long while, though it gets stronger and weaker at times. But it's only last night that I think I started seeing it for what it is. Half the time it manifests itself in the usual ways: thinking people are always watching me, talking about me behind my back, thinking mean thoughts about me, conspiring about me at work. Now I'm starting to think it manifests itself heavily in my relationships. I start thinking things about my significant other like, "Oh, he doesn't really love me. I just want him to admit what I already know: he doesn't actually love me." And there's paranoia about what they're doing, thinking, mostly in regards to me or how it affects me. Are they cheating? Would they ever? Do they want to? What are they hiding on their computers? What are they hiding in their lives? Why don't they ever want to spend time with me? The computer/tv/object must be more important than I am. Maybe I'm not capable of being loved. Etc., etc.

My thoughts were on the mental downward train last night because Jb was on the computer most of the night, watched a tiny bit of tv with me, then zonked out. I immediately started in with the whole, "He never wants to spend time with me anymore. He must not love me. The computer and tv are more important than me. This is just like my last relationship. I'm losing him. What if he cheats on me? He probably doesn't love me anymore. He probably hates me and thinks I'm crazy." Which he should when I think things like that. Because, you know, he couldn't possibly be tired because he's had a long week at work in 90 degree weather, which would be enough to sap anyone. So this becomes just another symptom to bring up to my psych doctor.

Also, I willfully didn't take my meds last night. I didn't want to. I didn't want to have to be taking meds, and certainly not so damn many. Most of the time, I'm extremely faithful to the idea of being med compliant. But last night, I was so down with the paranoid thinking that I didn't see how it mattered if I took meds or not. I didn't care. I didn't care about me.

On a better note, I did take my meds this morning. Lamictal and Wellbutrin down. As far as my sleep schedule, tried to go to bed around 10:30-ish. Not sure when I actually got to sleep. Slept until about 10:30-ish this morning. 12 hours. A little too long, maybe.