Splits

Splits

Lately I have been feeling like I have been losing what is left of my mind. I have been having some strange symptoms, like when the sun goes down, I turn into a villain. Every thing that is me changes to this wicked gloomy, suicidal, depressive self. Since I have been more aware of it, it has been happening less. I have been trying to get on a sleep schedule but my Sox team is on the west coast so have late games. And depending on how they do, I can get really excited and agitated very easily (as my tweets will prove). I just don’t understand why I get this way. I am not under real stress. My pdoc suggested it is because I am lonely? I find that unlikely as I don’t feel lonely. And the fact that it’s usually in the wee hours of the morning I am writing death letters and such more so than during the day time hours. Night time hours, I become a lunatic. To off set this, my pdoc wants me to take a standing dose of Ativan. I feel like she doesn’t grasp the situation at all. I did ask her if I should take some trilafon, a medication I am more familiar with, but she doesn’t want the side effects of that med with the other meds I am taking. So I will try it tonight and see if this offsets what I have been feeling the last few nights.

I didn’t change my bedding like I wanted to. I just got really tired when I came home and was really hungry as I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I will tomorrow as I really have nothing to do except go out for my coffee. I will change my bedding so it can be washed before I leave the house. I wish someone would put the sheets back on the bed for me. Taking them off I don’t mind. That is easy. But wrestling with the sheets to put them back on, wears me out to no end! I figure I will change the sheets in the morning when I get up, take a shower, wash the sheets and comforter, and then go out for coffee. I will then have my jave to juice me up and give me the energy I need to wrestle the bed. I used to love changing my sheets when I was a kid. It would take me a long time to do it because I would play with the mattress first. I would make a fortress and then jump all over the place pretending I was defending my home or something. It went on like this until I made an awful jump down on my bed and misjudged how much room I had with the windowsill. CRASH. I nearly gave myself a concussion. Gave myself a good bump on the head. No more playing after that.

I had a bladder accident today. I should know by now that a venti coffee fills my bladder up completely and that I should go to the bathroom afterwards. Because I am not aware that I am full, thanks to Cauda Equina Syndrome, I dribble some urine out due to overflow. The worse part is that I don’t even feel it or that my pants are wet. Very embarrassing. I came home to a nice mess. I texted my therapist, why should I live??

Well as this is my second blog of the day, I will stop here so that I can read some more of Lincoln’s Melancholy. Maybe he can give me some inspiration to continue the fight.

any thoughts?

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