So overwhelmed at the moment…

not manic…  just overwhelmed… 

worried, I guess…

maybe, I’ll chill as the day moves onward.  (Someone else thought I’d feel better in the a.m. – I guess, we just keep pushing back our hopes and expectations, as needed.)

trying to push superfluous thoughts out of my head.  No time or space for this sh*t… 

One of the most helpful people in my life said to me yesterday, "I don’t want to be a burden to you."  What could I have said to make this person, whose absense would surely lead to my collapse, think that they were a burden to me?  It was madness.  I felt really terrible that he could have had that thought at all.  I wouldn’t be off smack if it weren’t for his friendship.  It’s that simple.  He held me up, and talked me through all the ugly stuff, until I wasn’t as scared, anymore.  He still talks me down when I manage to think myself into a tale spin. 

I know my solutions are probably imperfect and short-sighted, at times.  The truth is, I have no clue what I’m doing – I am making this up as I go along, and I’m just doing my best to stay afloat.  My life’s a mess, and I am just trying to slowly work the clean up, while keeping my spirits high enough to care.  If I don’t clear the wreckage, I’ll get discouraged, and give up.  But, if I just focus on the work of it all, and all the damage done, I will likewise get discouraged, and in all probability, I’ll give up.

I have nothing figured out.  I don’t know what I need, or what I am supposed to do.  Sometimes, I just know what DOESN’T make sense to me. 

And, sometimes, I just know what I need.

It’s going to be interesting, upping the dosage on the Lamictal (doctor’s orders), while simultaneously decreasing the methadone (the GI doc thinks this is ultimately the best thing for my horrid, chronic, stomach problem). 

I am trying to keep a good attitude.  The hospitalization thing was rough.  I feel pretty worn down at this point.  There’s been a lot of trying BS, lately.  I mean, when I first got that sick, of course I wanted to call my guy and get a bag.  There was sort of a funny moment when I realized that I’d anticipated myself – I took the numbers out of the phone.  I don’t remember doing it, but I’m sure I did it for a moment such as this one (I could get the number back, if I really wanted to, but taking them out of the phone defeats the impulse-buy-cause-this-sucks sh*t.  Part of me was pretty unhappy about that anticipatory thinking, but I’m on the other side of it, now, so whatever.