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mousmeArgh!
This insomnia thing blows bigger chunks than Vesuvius. :P (Actually, didn't Vesuvius spew incredibly hot ash? Or am I thinking of something else entirely?)
*sigh*
Am in the process of trying to sort out my thoughts, which is no easy task at the present, believe you me. See, until my meds doc tells me it's okay to *not* take the Clonazepam every second day until next Tuesday, that's exactly what I'll be doing. Like a good little mental patient, I've taken all my pills tonight.
So now, weirdly enough, I'm starting that spiral into depression again. I can feel it starting, and I'm not sure if it's psychosomatic (I may have inadvertently convinced myself that the meds are making me all weird, thus causing them to have a placebo effect, although I think the term "placebo" might be a misnomer given that these symptoms are generally unpleasant). I'm taking these doubts into account, but I do think the new meds are screwing with my mind in a way I don't like. I'll see what happens over the next few days, in any case, if Dr. Steiner doesn't get back to me.
He said he responds to email the same day he gets them. Since I sent my email today after office hours, I expect he'll answer sometime tomorrow. Apparently he's like me: more reliable by email. Go figure.
At the moment I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this latest slide into the Very Fun World of Insanity.
I'm feeling a little misunderstood at the moment, mostly by my parents (there's a shocker), and as though I'm not really being listened to. Whether or not this is based on fact is almost irrelevant, really: a feeling is a feeling. Part of me is reasonably sure that for the most part, I'm just being paranoid.
However, it's very hard to be told by your own mother that the best thing for one would be to go out and find a job or do volunteer work and stop focussing on oneself so much. (This was the tenor (sp?) of our conversation this evening, among other things). I felt more than a little invalidated, I must say, although she really and truly meant well. Then again, this is the woman who doesn't believe in medication, to the point where she refuses to take Tylenol for headaches, and who believes that gay people only want to get married so they can have children using questionable cloning technology. *sigh*
So she thinks that getting away from myself is the answer to all my problems. In a way, I don't disagree. Going out, interacting with people, not brooding over one's fate, these are all good things. She just seems to be dismissing the rest of it entirely, and that kind of hurts.
Also, I'm trying to figure out a way to make this whole Bipolar thing work out. I mean, it's all very well to have manic (or hypomanic) periods, and then depressed periods, but it gets really old really fast. I need to get my sleeping back on track.
Brain: "All stress and no sleep make Phnee something something."
Me: "Go crazy?"
Brain: "Don't mind if I do!" *wields axe willy-nilly*
Things I need to do to get my stupid brain under control:
1- Find something to induce regular sleeping patterns. I don't care what it is at this point.
2- Find proper combination of meds so that I don't go off my rocker.
3- Start exercising regularly. If nothing else, it'll help me sleep.
4- Try to actually eat healthy food. Well, any food, really, but preferably healthy stuff. This whole "eat when you remember to, and only because you're practically doubled over with hunger" thing is not working out for me.
I think I'll go attempt to sleep for a while. Or at least lie in the dark with my eyes closed and convince myself it's 70% as effective as sleep, which is what I did at university. Oh, wait, I used to hallucinate that the room was filling with water at university. Great. :P
Am off. G'night folks! Speak to you later. Thanks for tuning in to the Crazy Station. ;)
This insomnia thing blows bigger chunks than Vesuvius. :P (Actually, didn't Vesuvius spew incredibly hot ash? Or am I thinking of something else entirely?)
*sigh*
Am in the process of trying to sort out my thoughts, which is no easy task at the present, believe you me. See, until my meds doc tells me it's okay to *not* take the Clonazepam every second day until next Tuesday, that's exactly what I'll be doing. Like a good little mental patient, I've taken all my pills tonight.
So now, weirdly enough, I'm starting that spiral into depression again. I can feel it starting, and I'm not sure if it's psychosomatic (I may have inadvertently convinced myself that the meds are making me all weird, thus causing them to have a placebo effect, although I think the term "placebo" might be a misnomer given that these symptoms are generally unpleasant). I'm taking these doubts into account, but I do think the new meds are screwing with my mind in a way I don't like. I'll see what happens over the next few days, in any case, if Dr. Steiner doesn't get back to me.
He said he responds to email the same day he gets them. Since I sent my email today after office hours, I expect he'll answer sometime tomorrow. Apparently he's like me: more reliable by email. Go figure.
At the moment I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this latest slide into the Very Fun World of Insanity.
I'm feeling a little misunderstood at the moment, mostly by my parents (there's a shocker), and as though I'm not really being listened to. Whether or not this is based on fact is almost irrelevant, really: a feeling is a feeling. Part of me is reasonably sure that for the most part, I'm just being paranoid.
However, it's very hard to be told by your own mother that the best thing for one would be to go out and find a job or do volunteer work and stop focussing on oneself so much. (This was the tenor (sp?) of our conversation this evening, among other things). I felt more than a little invalidated, I must say, although she really and truly meant well. Then again, this is the woman who doesn't believe in medication, to the point where she refuses to take Tylenol for headaches, and who believes that gay people only want to get married so they can have children using questionable cloning technology. *sigh*
So she thinks that getting away from myself is the answer to all my problems. In a way, I don't disagree. Going out, interacting with people, not brooding over one's fate, these are all good things. She just seems to be dismissing the rest of it entirely, and that kind of hurts.
Also, I'm trying to figure out a way to make this whole Bipolar thing work out. I mean, it's all very well to have manic (or hypomanic) periods, and then depressed periods, but it gets really old really fast. I need to get my sleeping back on track.
Brain: "All stress and no sleep make Phnee something something."
Me: "Go crazy?"
Brain: "Don't mind if I do!" *wields axe willy-nilly*
Things I need to do to get my stupid brain under control:
1- Find something to induce regular sleeping patterns. I don't care what it is at this point.
2- Find proper combination of meds so that I don't go off my rocker.
3- Start exercising regularly. If nothing else, it'll help me sleep.
4- Try to actually eat healthy food. Well, any food, really, but preferably healthy stuff. This whole "eat when you remember to, and only because you're practically doubled over with hunger" thing is not working out for me.
I think I'll go attempt to sleep for a while. Or at least lie in the dark with my eyes closed and convince myself it's 70% as effective as sleep, which is what I did at university. Oh, wait, I used to hallucinate that the room was filling with water at university. Great. :P
Am off. G'night folks! Speak to you later. Thanks for tuning in to the Crazy Station. ;)
