Well, the past few days have been rather difficult. I was writing here recently about problems dealing with my mother and her mental health issues, and related things of that nature. Last week I apologized for some rather nasty things I had said to my mother recently, and tried to patch things up between us. The next day, her dear companion (her dog), Toby, died. For years my mother has said, "When Toby dies, I am goin to kill myself", jokingly, but it's not totally a joke, because people who speak frequently of suicide and also have Bipolar Disorder are usually not just being funny. So, I always worried that, as her dog, Toby, got older, and the chances of his living much longer grew more slim, my mother was going to end up having some sort of nervous breakdown. Saturday, Toby died. It was sudden, though apparently he must have had a tumor growing for some time, according to the doctor at the emergency vet clinic. My sister, my brother, my sister-in-law, and I were all there to be supportive, and try to help, but my mother was definitely not prepared for this to happen, and has not taken it well. I created a little memorial webpage on a site for pet memorials, and she seems to like that; I don't know how much it will actually help. I think some losses take a person a long time to get over, and I know that I am still not over my break-up with my boyfriend that occured seven months ago, which I should have seen as inevitably coming for about a year before it happened. I think it will be a while before my mom gets over the loss of Toby. She doesn't deal well with humans, and she was very close to that dog; he went everywhere with her, for ten years.
Then, today, my sister had a major seizure (the Grand Mal kind), and I went to the emergency room where she was sent by her fellow employees at the hospital where she works. I ended up being there for about five hours before she was allowed to go home. My sister has Epilepsy, and I've been driving her home from work lately because her license was revoked by a doctor due to other seizures she has had in the past.
In the meantime, however, some good did occur. I finally got a job, which takes a huge burden off my back. It is a job that pays less than what I used to make, but is a job, nonetheless, so, it is a good thing. I will need to get back on a more normal type of schedule, which is something I've been working on for a while now, and being back on Anafranil helps me to actually get to sleep at night, so my schedule is getting better. Unfortunately, I somehow lost my Klonopin, and right now it's been four, almost five, days since I've had any of it. My doctor's office won't prescribe a new order of it, I guess because it is a controlled substance, even though I have been on it for a number of years and have never had any kind of problem with taking extra. I don't really understand this mentality, that because you're prescribed an addictive drug, you might just be a drug addict. I never asked to be put on Klonopin; it was a doctor's idea, and they have kept me on it at every new doctor I've gone to for years, because it helps me. Going off it cold turkey = not so helpful. I am shaking, literally as I type this because my body is going through withdrawals from the medication. I can't hold my hands still. Apparently, my doctor does not care about that, though, since there are people who are addicted to half a milligram of Klonopin on this planet, and there is a chance in the realm of human possibilities, that I might just be one of them, so we wouldn't want me to get an extra week's worth of medication. I might sell it in a back alley for ten dollars. We wouldn't want that! Better that I just risk having a seizure by going off it cold turkey, which is, according to all medical information, not a good idea.
Anyway, enough of these miscellaneous complaints! I did get a job, so I suppose I should be saying that all is right with the world, at this time. Here you go: All is right with the world. At this time.
Meanwhile, I've read a few more interesting books recently. I read The Last Time I Wore a Dress , by Daphne Scholinski, who I learned on the internet is now Dylan Scholinski (he's transgender), a fact that was not included in the book. The book involves her treatment in psychiatric hospitals as a teenager in the 1980's, where she was sent because she was gay, and, apparently, nobody realized that she was not at all mentally ill. Following that, I read Gone to the Crazies , by Alison Weaver, which is another interesting tale of a teenager who spent years confined in a psychiatric treatment program that was also a weird sort of boarding school. Then I started reading (but have not yet finished), Marya Hornbacher's excellent second memoir, called Madness , which is about her struggle with Bipolar Disorder. Marya wrote a very excellent memoir a few years ago about anorexia and bulimia, which is one of the few books on eating disorders I would ever recommend people read, as it is one of the few I consider reader-worthy. That book is called Wasted.
Speaking of mental illness... my antipsychotic, Seroquel, is working well, and I have not had any psychotic symptoms lately. I have, however, not gotten out of the pit of depression I've been in - at least not completely. I'm able to read, which is a good sign for me, because often when I am not doing well I cannot concentrate to read anything. I am also able to laugh and make jokes and write. However, I am living in a place that is an absolute shambles - my disgusting apartment, which I have not cleaned at all in months. I cannot bring myself to face the overwhelming, horrifying task of fixing this embarassing situation, and this situation has been going on for a while now...Even my cat, Spooky, is fed up with me. She wants to run away, and every time I open the door, she tries to do so. My car, similarly, is a disgusting pile of rubbish, which I need to clean for many hours. I will have to do this soon. And I have not been doing a few other things that I should be doing, like laundry. It all overwhelms me and I find it too complicated to handle. Instead of dealing with the things I so obviously need to be dealing with, I retreat into my mind, into a world where I have a close relationship with a person who, in reality, doesn't want to have that kind of relationship with me, but who is, in my mind, always acting like somebody else, and not his actual self.
I guess that is all for now....Oh, one more thing: I saw my ex-boyfriend for what might be the last time the other day. I am relieved about that. And I finally had him removed from my auto insurance policy so we no longer have any reason to communicate.