out in daylight, my potential

I went to collapse on the bed in a fit of "I cannot write and therefore am a worthless human being". Ace came to lick my face (or try, because I didn't let her), and then laid down on the bed next to me so I could rest my head on her chest and listen to her heartbeat. When I tried to get up, she moved so her head was on my shoulder, pinning me down more effectively than I thought possible, and kept me there until I had calmed the fuck down and felt more or less better.

Good dog. Best friend.

...In other news, I'm still alive. My beta blockers continue to work - I walked almost two miles earlier this week without a cane (and while wrestling the dog to keep her out of the road) and I didn't die! Antidepressants are still... iffy - I had a pretty bad downswing a few weeks ago, which is part of why I haven't updated for so long. Medicaid actually came through, and I haven't been to see a doctor (or get new glasses) yet, but hopefully soon.

thatrainbow and I took the dog to the dog park a couple days ago. Ace spent the entire time racing around and trying (awkwardly) to make friends with the other dogs, and almost fell asleep on my lap on the car ride home. We're thinking about getting either a pair of kittens or a puppy, depending on whether or not Michaelcat stops being a little shithead after he's been neutered and how soon Mat's father comes through on his promise to get our front yard fenced. Either way, I'm excited and would like my small furry creature now now now.

...yep. My life is exciting.

All of my plans today end in "LIKE A MOTHERFUCKING ADULT!!!"

Guys, please don't let me try to clean the house. If I mention I might try it, find some way to make me sit down and stay sitting. Trying to clean will wear me the fuck out, and I have plenty of other things to do, but when I start being productive, I become convinced I'm superhuman, and that way lies madness and pain.

Anyway. I have not yet managed to psych myself up to "email my father LIKE A MOTHERFUCKING ADULT", which is the next thing on my list. It has been the next thing on my list for literally months - which covers my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's, so now I have that extra paranoia that he's mad at me for not contacting him on holidays.

I think I'm going to shamelessly pull out the "suicidally depressed" card on this one. It might freak him out, but it's also my best chance of getting through that my brain chemistry is fucked the hell up, because I'm not sure he gets that. I know he probably won't be mad, I know he'll probably just be glad to hear from me, but you try getting that logic past anxiety and "I AM THE WORST DAUGHTER TO EVER LIIIIVE".

...my issues, let me show you them. :|

Thankfully, everything else I'm planning to do today is way the hell easier, I just need to get past... this.

...I think I'm going to clean the litterbox first. That's how much I want to do this. :\

( Same old depression/suicidal bullshit )

...I am so fucking tired, you guys. So tired, in every possible way, and every part of me hurts from crying, but I can't sleep any more right now.

I just want to shove all of this at someone else and have them deal with it. Just for a few hours, just to give me some breathing room and remind me who I am without it. That would be amazing.

I exist. Doctor's visit yesterday was thankfully not horrible, and I was too tired to get really anxious about the whole medical setting thing. We were there forever, but once we actually got to see a doctor, everything was ridiculously quick and easy from there.

It's a harmless rash, possibly cause by a virus and probably triggered by stress, and it'll go away on its own. I have medicine to help the itching, I have been reassured that I don't have some kind of pox, and I no longer want to claw my own skin off, so that's good. I'm also more dizzy and nauseous than normal, but I'm going to blame that on the meds and hope it goes away soon.

Emotionally, I am... bleh. Angry. My brain pulls this trick where it warps depression into seething, senseless rage with no real target - which is just as well, because it feels like, given a target, I would burn down the world just for the hell of it. Usually as soon as I realize what's happening, it goes from anger to regular depression pretty quickly, but that's not happening this time for some reason.

I'm not sure what's happening in my brain anymore. Autumn and winter are usually the better half of the year for me, from an emotional/mental health standpoint, but that's so not the case this year and it's freaking me out. I can just about deal when I can predict and brace myself for bouts of crazy, but this... no.

Man, I hate holidays. I always end up resenting everyone else in the world, and though I managed to avoid that on Thanksgiving by being kidnapped, the world seems to be making up for that by Christmas being so much worse.

( bluh bluh feelings )

I spent most of yesterday staring blankly at my computer or the ceiling and getting nothing done. Yeah, that'd be the increased meds.

I feel a little more clear-headed today. It still requires a lot of actual effort to focus, but at least it's possible. However, on the flipside, I feel like crap physically: really bad vertigo, nausea, general weakness... I'm not sure if that's the fault of the meds or my usual issues plus (greater than usual) anemia, but it's deeply unpleasant either way.

I had weird dreams last night (or this afternoon, whatever) ( Cut for self-injury, mostly in a dream context... )

Really, the past few days have been a long, slow spiral into that weird, numb sort of depression. I feel useless and inadequate, I'm not good enough or smart enough for my friends or the things I want to do, and I'm just... tired of everyone, including me, pretending that's not the case. God, I am so tired.

You know how when you get food poisoning, after you're better you get this violent aversion to whatever you ate just before?

I'm having that right now, except instead of food poisoning, it's depression. Pretty much anything I had both the energy to cook and the ability to force myself to eat when I was most depressed a couple months ago is just deeply disgusting now.

I can just barely stomach yogurt, when I have no other choice. I've got a thing of honey roasted peanuts in my bag, which should be good to snack on when I can't manage actual food, but I can't even bring myself to dig them out, never mind actually eat any. Beka got me some coffee ice cream the other day, which should be awesome, but I haven't even touched it because just looking at it turns my stomach. And I hated Hot Pockets at the best of times - now just the smell of them makes me nauseous and inexplicably angry.

I've even been weird and skittish about coffee. (Stuff from coffee shops is fine, the stuff from the coffee maker at home is the problem.) Luckily, I stopped being able to taste it when the depression got really bad, and just stopped drinking it for a while, so it doesn't have as strong a cognitive link, but I'm still strangely wary about both making and drinking it.

So I've been pretty much living on peanut butter on toast for the past week or so, but now even that's grossing me out, because a week of anything is bound to make me sick of it (this is the reason anyone offering me pizza runs a serious risk of having something thrown at their face). So basically, we're down to nothing in this house that I can stomach, and that alone is throwing me into a weird depressive funk.

I'm just going to curl up under a blanket and nest in haaaaaaet.

I'm still alive.

Inspection on the house happened, and did not come up with any problems, so we should have a house in twenty days or so.

However, we are dead broke - even with thatrainbow's paycheck this week - so... y'know, eating this week is going to be fun. By which I mean I probably... mostly... won't.

I miiiight be able to get a job at Caroline's work for at least a little while, except hah, it requires a physical and shot records - I could almost definitely get a physical at the free clinic, but I do not have my shot records, and there's no way I can afford a blood test or whatever to confirm I've actually had the required shots. So that probably won't happen after all.

I want to be happy about the house working out. But mostly I'm just feeling stupid and useless and... Having no control over anything in my life, for better or worse, is just really demoralizing. I'm so tired and stressed (and so undercaffeinated oh god), and twenty days just seems like forever when it's standing between me and any sort of privacy (and my coffeemaker).

Mrrrph. Yesterday was awful (we took Ace to the dog park, the car refused to start when we tried to leave, and the car is still there - this is after we took it to the mechanic on Friday). Today is just... hard. And I have only been awake for four hours.

I had weird dreams. Something involving Harry Dresden and Jim Butcher (in the same dream, at the same time - pretty sure Harry did not punch Butcher, though no one would blame him), and some kind of supernatural thingy trying to kill us (naturally), and at least two dreams within a dream. Weird. So that was disorienting, and we overslept and Beka dragged me out of bed to go to the clinic, and I spent around an hour not entirely sure I was really awake this time.

I have antidepressants for the next two months. Yaaaay.

The doctor has no idea what's going on with my heart, just what's not going on - I don't have a heart murmur, it's not my thyroid, and it's not a neurological problem. My blood pressure is on the low end of normal, though. I didn't think of it at the time, but I should've had them check what it does when I'm standing up vs. sitting down, because I am pretty sure it drops like a rock. Not sure that knowledge would help anything, but.

I am still dizzy as fuck over an hour after getting home. This is a problem, because I kind of need to feed my animals, but I also have no great desire to pass out today, so... the animals will have to wait a little while longer. Sorry, kids.

I am so. Fucking. Bored.

And completely incapable of entertaining myself right now, because my focus is even more shot to hell than usual. I've been doing a lot of "tired of thinking, so I'm just going to spin in my chair for ten minutes" today. And yesterday.

Resisting the urge to paw at random people and insist THEY do something to entertain me, but only because I know I'd probably get distracted after a minute or three and wander off.

Thankfully, I am pretty chill about the whole "nothing is getting done" problem. Not throwing screaming fits or crying or anything. I don't know if it's the meds or just total emotional burnout, but it's nice and I'll take it.