exhausting week

Exhausting week

Sunday night I realized I was an absolute idiot. Even though going out to play chess was probably good for my mental health, it was not good for my physical pain. I had a very rough night sleeping. I sent some texts to the therapist and I saw her that afternoon on Monday. I got dressed up because I didn’t want to get dressed twice but that ended up happening anyways as after therapy, I went into my PJs for a nap that never happened. I never showered. I just couldn’t be bothered. I was and still am so profoundly depressed. I thought things couldn’t get possibly worse and they did. Tues morning while at the church, I read one of the psalm books and it had the word “breaking” in it. Well, my brain just saw the “king” part and the voices started chanting “you are king, go into the light” over and over and over again. I sent a message to the NP. She wanted me up to 6 mg but it was going to take a few days to work. I told her I have no idea if I have an infection (I don’t) but the uro wanted to do a urine culture. The NP said she thought about ordering other lab stuff and putting me on another medication. She was going to be away the rest of the week but would monitor the message system if I should send a message. I did tonight as the voices are still saying “go into the light” though I have no idea what the fuck it means and it is on a fucking loop that is annoying the crap out of me. The meds are working as I feel more sedated and less agitated than I was. Other than the voices kicking up, the funeral and reception went well. I spent yesterday in bed. I didn’t do a damn thing. I was supposed to have therapy today but decided to cancel. I am glad because the occupational therapy appointment took so much energy from me and then I went grocery shopping which further taxed me. I am so wiped out it isn’t funny.

I was hoping my writing was going to be a little more frequent but some days I can’t write. I had so much emotion that I was just overloaded and couldn’t get my thoughts out but then, when you are actively psychotic, it is so damn hard to think. I got to ask my therapist how old she is, well at least if she is younger or older than I am. It is bugging the crap out of me. She freaked out when I told her the year I was born. I don’t understand why as she has my record in front of her. Makes no sense. The professionals I see are always shocked when they see my age. They will say, “oh, you’re 43? I thought you were 20 something.” Um, hello. I am not lying if you have my record there in front of you! I know I don’t look my age (don’t act it either, LOL) but come on.

As I was walking back to the area where the shuttles were to the train, I just crossed the street. Didn’t look and almost got hit by a passing car. I was like oh shit. It was a cop car too. I am just glad they didn’t give me a ticket because I didn’t cross at the crosswalk that was like 20 feet away from me. I still have this heaviness in my heart left by my aunt that passed. My cousin sent me a pic of my godfather last night. It was a pic that was taken at my cousin’s house way back when his kids were little. I miss him so much too. He has been gone for about 6 years or so now. I know he would have accepted me as trans. He was such a good guy with the kindest heart.

any thoughts?

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