I spent four hours working in a warehouse moving boxes for charity yesterday. So I guess I found that healthy release for the rage. I was exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. And I couldn’t focus on anything so I didn’t write. It was the medication, but I did finally sleep when that wore off.
I figured I’d regret my choice this morning, but I feel as normal as normal feels for me today. I took some anti inflammatory medicine when I got home and basically collapsed on the couch and vegged out to Netflix- Criminal Minds- and drank a ton of water.
I feel a lot less angry today. It’s a good thing; I don’t think I could have done another day of that. Instead I just feel the new normal side effects of the meds for mood and ADD. Yay? Just the skin-buzz, a mild nausea and indigestion, as if I had anything to eat yet today.
I still have to call the doctor back to set up a follow up, but if this is the new normal, I can live with it I guess. I wish I could say the meds were definitely working, but I can’t. I’m still too easily distracted, I’m still pretty depressed, and as far as I can tell, I just added med side effects to what I already live with.
At least I know what to do for rage when I’m not exhausted. I think when I’m exhausted and raging, the treatment may be a good drink or two.
I thought I knew what to do for depression, but Mrs. M. has not been cooperating with my treatment plan, so while I think it would work, this alternate therapy isn’t being applied frequently enough to monitor its’ effectiveness with any kind of accuracy or predictive value..
(“wink wink, nudge nudge, know what I mean?”)
So saying all that is saying maybe I am on the upside of the wave. But I’m not holding my breath. I’m glad I’m busy today or I might be able to focus on my feelings more and we don’t want that. Or, I don’t want that. Not today. Maybe on the top side of this wave, but not now.
My dear Mum. She called because I described the side effects and she wanted to make sure I wasn’t having suicidal thoughts or inclinations, after she talked with some people she knows who are in the nursing field. I respect that. Some nurses know more than doctors about symptoms and side effects and medications. I reassured her, and I’ll reassure you, that one loss is one too many, and I’ll keep fighting it out. I hope you all will do the same. I confided in my mum that I actually decided during my first severe depressive episode, at age 14, that she was never really aware of, that I wouldn’t take that way out. At that time I even wrote the requisite note telling everyone my whys and goodbyes and knew how to do it. Back then it was bullies and my abnormalities and my wimpy hurt feelings and my lack of hope for the future. I’ve still thought about it, sometimes, but always decided, at least for the 37 years following the first major episode, to stay here.
My plan is to live long enough to be a raging old fart, to live long enough to get revenge on the kids for the things they do or don’t do that piss me off, to say what’s on my mind at that season in life when you can get away with it and no one can say anything about it, and to clean my house and fix the shit on the to-do list. And to piss everyone off because I just don’t give a shit any more. The rage should help my productivity.
From now until then, I’ll just sincerely apologize to any readers who keep on reading my blog, because it’s probably just going to be the same shit, twisted and recycled. If I get something new, you’ll be seeing that too, but until then, bless your hearts. Sorry. You’re stuck with me.