Note: I am fine, except how we're all generally not fine. My antidepressants are basically holding steady, but the anxiety meds do need a tweak. Or two.


Last week, to my therapist, apparently: "...and I'll be following up with my psych about getting breakthrough meds for anxiety."

The next day, somewhere in the middle of the latest medication gothic: my therapist gets a message saying "Hey did you know your client is asking for meds? Maybe you need another appointment?"
My therapist, to herself: "My client? Is asking? For meds? We discussed it at our last appointment? WELL, GIVE THEM MEDS, THEN!"

Me to my therapist, today: "anyway they finally coughed up some of the stuff, you know, the antihistamine", and "and I was thinking, I HAVE MAXED OUT MY COPING SKILLS I COULD PROBABLY TEACH A CLASS ON COPING SKILLS, I HAVE DEALT WITH THE PAIN FROM A BROKEN TOOTH USING MEDITATION, I WENT DECADES WITH SUICIDAL DEPRESSION ONLY USING COPING SKILLS AND A LIBRARY, I WOULD NOT BE ASKING FOR MEDICATION IF I THOUGHT I COULD DO IT MYSELF."

(note: as soon as I safely could admit to a medical professional that I needed antidepressants, I did, I got them, and they would have to pry them out of my live and very angry hands if they haven't stopped working on me -- at which point I would be looking for another type that worked. my example is here for reasons of I kinda had to, and may the generations of the future never know what we had to go through.)

...

Psych appointment is next week.

Noodle is in the truck.

The death of someone in my greater circles, who I'd probably never talked to directly but I always admired her presence, is still haunting me all these years later. Her name is on Trump's body count list. I told my therapist that even if I did have the opportunity, which I won't, I couldn't possibly strangle That Man with these lily-white hands. (what a fucking phrase for a cliche, eh???) I just hope that when he goes, he is alone and scared, and that he feels the weight of every one of those deaths. And cracked a joke. She reminded me about legos. I cracked another one.

She hadn't known about the ABCDEF, and we giggled a bit about how Stephen King cracking a tasteless joke about Elon Musk's relationships resulting in him getting kicked off the service formerly known as Twitter? that was actually pretty high up there on the Grimness scale.

I'm trying to talk about the normal things in my life. History will record many of the abnormal things. But we're still sharing cat memes in group chat. We're still reading books. We're still cussing out the dishes. We're still looking at the dishbox with dismay, dispirited woe, and sometimes despair. I'm still getting cricks in my neck from excessive muscle tension.

Even if all I can get out of the day is lying in bed with a book, or maybe some not intellectually challenging video and a pair of prism glasses: I'm still here, and I'll do the best I can.


Bonus: I told my therapist about the study I'm in, and how I am using that depression-engraved ability to find problems in a constructive way, and how it is going to result in gift cards, and how I have a Target glass tree habit. And I held up the three trees on my desk in slow, dramatic succession.

"Have you seen that tiktok video, it's this doctor," my therapist wheezed, "where he goes around Target, holding things up to the camera, and saying--"
"NO!" I completed, giggling. "I actually haven't seen THAT one, but I have seen a lot of similar content over the years. Had you seen the one that's the dog toy or ... NOT a dog toy?"

Did a small shopping. A pack of BelVita biscuits (shared, 3:1) and an almond snickers (shared, roughly 50:50) worked for a mid-project refuel.

The snow stuck! Tomorrow (Friday) there may be ice.

Tomorrow (Friday) is the rescheduled oven delivery date.

I managed to dig up enough information about my motherboard (without cracking the case) that Belovedest was confident to help me narrow down my video card choices. We're going with one that can drive four monitors, and can use some of the connections we have already without excessive adapting. I hope it works. (The next obvious thing to upgrade to make it work would potentially be the power supply. And that seems hairy not for computer reasons, but for stupid house electrical system reasons.)

The household conclusion about the "pomegranate" 7-up is that it's slightly like Fruit Punch.

We have discovered other viable BelVita breakfast biscuit flavors! Cinnamon is a no-go with Belovedest. Banana is potentially an anaphylaxis hazard for me. (I haven't tested it since ~2014 and getting a lip-tingle and washing out my mouth, and that was raw/frozen, not baked.) Cranberry-orange is a household-wide hit, and they also have it at Safeway. Chocolate has an Oreo-adjacent flavor according to Alex; haven't tested it myself. Standard here is blueberry, which is fully all right. Golden oat was the only one they stocked reliably in California/LA.

I have the mattress and pillow sack in my car; I should think about blankets and linens for the Potentially Sleeping At Ev's survival kit. Also about storage for same.

To do for this weekend: psych homework about sleep schedule.

This afternoon's Strattera wasn't bad-bad, but was at least mildly unpleasant. I attempted a nap in there.

Rumor on the internet has it that Bargain Basement Justin Hammer is heading into WWII Axis shit. Ugh.

https://blorbo.social/@azurelunatic is me, for now. Of note to fandomers: this is one of the places where "illegal in Australia" is relevant. Be advised, before signing up.

New meds level unlocked! I can go up to level 300 in 50 level steps, one step a week. I reloaded this week's bedtime meds wheel. I am to watch out for irritability and signs of panic.

I presented the sleep chart I'd colored as my homework before the appointment. He was impressed by the work and going "oh I see" at the nights with squares colored red.

He had a slightly involuntary laugh at my description of mornings before having the discussion about snooze options with Belovedest. The alarm. Madam Yellface having her say. "And then, the Roomba..." We discussed the mitigations I implemented (longer snooze for partner, helpful eye mask) and looked at my meds.

I will see him in another 5-6 weeks.

I sat down and made another sleep chart for March. I couldn't fit it all on one page, alas. Maybe next time. I have also set up a reminder to take my melatonin at "sunset", which may help with bed timing.

I also got a dongle sent back for a refund, the older 3g car monitor that automates my fuel consumption calculations and reminds me where my car is. The new one is at least 4g. Woo.

Belovedest is hacking away at the home automation thingy.

Strattera: still doing well, about to bump up to the next dosing level when the set of pills I just chugged kicks in. (I was on 25s; there were still some 25s left when I got bumped to 60s; I am getting the rest of the 25s out of the way by having 50mg for as many days as they last (not many). I kept with the 25s until the next bottle was actually in my hands, which is why it's starting today instead of Thursday. It was actually supposed to start yesterday, but I forgot to take my morning pills until around 5, so it's no good doing THAT. But today I start the 50mg.)

Dr. V was impressed by my bullet journals, and actually said that I could probably teach a class on How To Use Lists To Organize Your Life. I find this slightly alarming, because I'm not actually sure I'm qualified to help other people find a thing that works for them, vs. teaching my personal method.

He tried to give me an article on prompt waking from a respected psychiatrist. I politely told him that I could not accept this, handed it back, and told him about That Terrible Sleep Neurologist and that I had to respect my body's communication on what is and isn't enough sleep. (But the great thing about this stuff? I've been waking up coherently in the morning and able to get out of bed and start my day if I'm not still sleepy and in need of a little more.)

Due to the surgery, I am not quite yet cleared to use straws. This means that taking a drink in an inhabited area involves nearly full mask removal, not just a quick lift to shove the straw underneath. So I injured my throat during that appointment due to talking with extremely dry mouth. This is Annoying.


Last Christmas: I lost the Wham! game at the pre-surgical appointment.
From Tumblr:

last christmas
I gave you my heart
But the very next day
you said you were gay
This year
I found out I’m queer
and I even transed my gender

Yulegoat: Burned!


Surgery: went well! Because I was not sedated, there were no food restrictions beforehand. (And I saw that their instructions were for a six hour fast beforehand, which was pleasing on account of Rah's yelling-at-professionals over on the Twits.) I was on oxygen, which both cleared and irritated my sinuses. I had an increased level of nosebleed for the few days after. They made me nice and comfortable with my knees propped and head cradled, and then tilted the chair to the side, which made me worry that I'd possibly fall off during. I put myself into a brainspace where I was Not Bothered by the Goings-On, and proceeded to zone out during the procedure. This was helped by the dinging of the heart rate monitor, because that helped me focus on my breathing. There were a few stitches, the surgeon trimmed the edges off the invisalign-type plastic tray that contains The Fake Tooth (it is an Essix Appliance, apparently) and sent me off. The assistant told me I have very nice skin, after wiping some of the blood off my face.

( pain meds talk )

Between Ev and all of the support from others, the costs are covered!!! Hooray!

Recovery has been going well. I had a Mystery Tender Warm Lump near the end of an incision. I applied hot tea to it, the tenderness started to resolve promptly, and by the next morning I was satisfied with the progress. Belovedest helped me try and photograph it. This involved me sticking my phone in my mouth and them kneeling under it and peering up to tell me when I was in focus. I found this hilarious.

Food restrictions are going slightly less well. I have been judiciously ignoring the prohibition against Cronch when my mental health required it. Chips with hummus: not a problem when I have been careful, and I have been careful. "Cheese Bites" in soup: one stabbing so far, but it has not caused a problem. (And the Kellogg's strike and boycott are over, for now, so we can resume Cheez-Its, which are a little less sharp.)

We have ordered some things off the internets to attempt a DIY Essix Appliance, on the scale of $30 rather than $300, in the event that I manage to break or lose mine. So far we have two of the items. I have discovered that my water flosser is great for getting gunk out of the bits that are unreachable via the toothbrush.


Craigslist: Some recently widowed guy on Craigslist posted his late wife's clothes for free. We exchanged a few messages. His wife had died at 41 of uterine cancer. After a few go-rounds, it turned out he wasn't ready to give up the clothes just yet, but I could contact him in a few months. Perhaps I shall. I did get some weird Lonely Widower vibes, so I made sure to mention Belovedest after the first few messages. The first intended meeting was interrupted by his mom breaking a hip, and after that I had A Feeling.

The Expensive Office Chairs from an earlier Craigslisting are coming in super handy. One is in Sewzb0t Parlor and is much better for sewing and sorting than the armed one. One is Around in the basement and I have a thing I want to do with it. The third one is sitting in the kitchen and means I can sort and put away things in the fridge without Falling Over, and it's GREAT.


Internet Culture: The whole internet loves Jorts and Jean, the wholesome office cats!
*5 minutes later*
I am delighted to inform you that Jorts is kind and inclusive on the level of Dr. Tingle, and Jean is pro-union.

(I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE BUTTERED JORTS)

The official euphemism for "Am I The Asshole", according to amynewsmith, is "Who's The Bad Guy Here?" which can be used in explanations to children who are too young to hear their parents saying Asshole.


Gaming: Good times. J was sorting the Extremely Unsuitable For The Situation cards out of a Cards Against Humanity deck. We helped. Then we played with that deck, and found a few more cards that were Not Suited Either. We had dinner, and Jackbox.


Media room: with some help from Belovedest and Ev, I rearranged the items that were making the room basically impassable into something much less terrible. The electronics came out of the closet, the book boxes got stacked inside, the table got turned around so the monitors can be docked with, the Big Monitor got shoved out of the way towards the back of the desk, the CDs and DVDs got shelved, clothes were moved, the Big Monitor Box went in the weird gap in the closet space, and the electronics bits went into our bedroom.


Heat pump: tech came out in daylight and examined the outdoor connections. It looks fine, with none of the discoloration and other things there would be from a further refrigerant leak.


Ev: came over with Meow Meow and got her settled in and we did some shopping for snacks. Then I woke up at ass o'clock for the airport trip, and she flew off to her birth parents' for a week, extended on account of snow at Sea-Tac and possibly Omicron in the crew. She's rebooked for Monday but we'll see how that goes. Her mom is currently mad at Grandma and Bro, for some reason, which makes Ev the golden child and so mom is avoiding her. Grandma is sniping about lack of boyfriend and acne (clearly the lack of boyfriend is caused by acne). Mom is surprisingly reasonable about lack of boyfriend, because Mom's standards for any boyfriend of Ev's are high (and wrong for Ev).


Cats:
Escape Calico tries to practice Inaccupressure on Alex. It's not very effective. She went on An Explore outside today. When it's inclement, she keeps to the side of the house for her explorations, and is a bit harder to catch.
Yellface is upset that Meow Meow has infiltrated her space, and has been getting hissy at humans a little, too. Poor Yellface. (She took offense at Ev walking around, because Yellface was trying to get out of Ev's way and then Ev kept walking along the same path that Yellface was taking. She also took offense at me trying to pet her when she was upset, and at me carrying her to the bedroom past Meow Meow.)
Meow Meow can be Stinky, and is extremely hit or miss on burying her poops. (She does attempt, but often it's trying to kick the side of the litter box over the poo, not trying to kick litter.) She is also very sweet, and has snuggled up to me and stood upon me. Like Yellface, she has Opinions when she believes the service in this establishment is Slow. She has also been informed that we do not go in the garbage cans, and we do not jump up on the sink.


General ADHD chaos: I have no fuckin' idea where my iPod is right now. It's somewhere in the house. I knew where it was. Then my brain got slammed with other things and I have no idea where it is right now. I cleaned several places in search of it! I found the mini-purse I thought it was in. Nope. WTF.


Holidays!
Solstice: Yay longest night. Yay sunrise!
Christmas Eve: selected a restaurant and picked up the traditional feast. Nom.
Christmas: One of Belovedest's family sent a refurbished Pixel 3a XL, and it turns out to be Locked in a way that makes Belovedest's intentions impossible. Now, I have one that seems to be Unlocked. So we are doing A Swap. So I was doing that, among other things. Unfortunately, the swap has not solved my problem of the screen blacking out on certain notifications. Woe.
Boxing Day: It started snowing on Christmas and snew overnight, so that we had two inches on the sidewalk by noon. Belovedest went out and scooped the driveway and I believe sidewalk as well. We may have to shovel more to get out tomorrow to pick Ev up.

Yesterday was a Fun Adventure! Mostly related to my ongoing quest for ADHD treatment that Actually Works(TM).

I went to the pharmacy to pick up pills: the last appointment bumped the bupropion, so I don't have any buffer yet. (Even though I renewed as soon as I remembered to.) Then I went to the appointment. We talked about the two Terrible Things I had been worried about actually happening, some Dental Fuckery (he winced gratifyingly) and then my dad dying. I didn't mention the mini-splits install, but that was also incredibly disruptive.

Helpfully, I'd written down some things, and saved them in the calendar appointment so I'd have them at the correct place and time.

ADHD Gothic, or, one of my mornings over the last month.

( Read more... )

After that, my psychiatrist kind of winced. Then he started talking about options for adding a medication. Score! I picked Strattera, because the other one was for anxiety, and generally the current meds on that end of things are working out. He went into a general lecture about how it would not Magically Make Me Organized, and how I should work with my therapist about learning to make lists. (I did not immediately have a page from my bullet journal situation to wave at him, so I sat there and nodded. The mini-splits install plus my dad dying kind of did a combination cannonball and belly flop into the peaceful pool of my organizational system, and we're still mopping up.)

He is taking vacation after Christmas, so he said I should check in before that to see how the medication is doing. I asked what "before that" meant, and we picked a general time for me to call for an appointment so there would be time, and I explained that I've got a calendar system so that I will remember to do things at times.

He sent the prescription, and handed me a note to take to the front desk to schedule our next appointment assuming I didn't have feedback on the new med (end of January). That got scheduled. I explained my system to the front desk lady. (Three calendars: deadlines and medical appointments, with the actual time of the appointment in the subject, length of the appointment plus fifteen minutes early in that calendar; duplicate to personal calendar but include drive time, duplicate to household calendar but include prep time, was how I did it this time.)

Then I was off to the pharmacy, but I considered that they might get started on it and there was a thrift store on the way back, so I poked into there and found some athletic tops that look like they will work nicely for my current War On Bras.

Then to the pharmacy! I grabbed a motorized shopping cart, with the expectation that the prescription would not be ready for at least a half-hour after I inquired, so I might as well be ready to do some shopping. But they said an hour. I thought I might do a good browse, but I thought wrong.

This morning, I wrote a customer service note to explain the situation.

( Read more... )

After I got the meds, I went by the taqueria on the corner. Sadly, the shrimp in the thing I got for Alex were Questionable. ( Read more... ) We are not getting shrimp there again, and I may write a review. Tails are not what is wanted when the shrimp are integrated into the dish and covered with sauce and not super finger-grabbable.

After that I managed to elbow my container wrong, and distributed nacho over a narrow but intense blast zone involving my desk, my arm, all of my clothing, and the floor. Sour cream side on my skirt and elbow.

So ... a day, amirite?

Belovedest has installed a pi-hole to deal with a number of ad networks. This is good except for three games that give me free stuff for experiencing ads. I've determined that for two out of the three, I just turn off wifi on my phone for the narrow window I need. The third one is extremely less playable without the extras, and it's built in a way that you basically have to start the game with access to the ad server if you're going to want to use an extra during a level. Which you don't always know until mid-level. Fortunately that's not one of the games with any real daily bonus that I care about, so I leave it until I would appreciate that particular variety of Soothing Game.

My brain has been acting up on me, and last night was not the greatest of nights. (I was, in fact, reminded of 1999.)

Then I went off to dinner with Purple, who gently observed that I seemed to be about half-speed, then held my hand while we complained about politics. He had a touching level of faith in the unwillingness of Indiana parents to not ask for their children to be tortured in the name of Getting Straight. And I provided some thoughts on the torture facilities euphemistically known as "wilderness survival camps" and their ilk.

And I got back home, and found that my sweetie's dating site profiles very cheerfully mention a primary partner. Me. I am touched beyond belief.

So a mixed bag, but getting better.

💙💙💙

Since the roommate has to get to work before the bus lines start running on this half of town, and she doesn't drive, she takes Super Shuttle. This means that they call when they are here to pick her up at the appointed time (3am) and she's not already out and waiting.

After the initial startled reaction the first day, it's become far less of an issue for me. After all, what else are they supposed to do? It's perfectly logical. I'm not such a poor sleeper that a routine disruption is going to make it so that I can't get back to sleep. I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom; I can become used to getting up in the middle of the night to tell Super Shuttle to chill out, the redhead is on her way.

And it's an excellent way to condition me out of the panic-fear-flight-fight reaction to the phone ringing while I'm asleep. Ever since 1996, if the phone rings while I am asleep, unless I know there is someone else ready to pick up that phone, unless I am so exhausted it doesn't break through, unless I am too tired and confused to find the phone, unless I make the conscious decision not to answer, I will pick up that phone. And I will be ready to do battle with someone or something, or dive halfway across the country and get my loved ones to safety. A wrong number at 8 am on a day when I'm scheduled to sleep until 11 can leave me awake getting rid of the cold shakes of reaction for an hour. A call earlier, especially while I'm sound asleep, is worse.

Today, the only reason I'm still up after they've called is that I needed to use the bathroom anyway, and I needed to get this out of my head. No shakes. No panic. No residual urge to teleport myself to the side of my beloved. It might be finally over.

It was ten years ago, and all parties involved in that ongoing summer of extended emergency are grown and gone. It's about time my body started catching up. Hooray desensitization therapy with Super Shuttle.

Once upon a time, I described for marxdarx what was going on inside my head at any given moment, and why I was frustrated when I couldn't keep up with others.

As I detailed each thing, his expression got more and more amazed. I'm running several background processes, usually, with my mind on something I've been working on for a while. Darkside takes up a huge background process, to maintain the link and his avatar. I think about school, about my current tasks. I have another large process devoted to the Little Fayoumis. If he says something, I hear it and I process it and I know what he's up to at almost every moment when he and I are both conscious and in sound and/or sight range. In addition to that, in a conversation, when I'm told an idea, my mind goes skimming through my library -- have I encountered any similar ideas before? How did they work? If they did not work, why? If they did work, why? Is the situation comparable? How do I think it would work? How would it succeed if it succeeded? What would happen if it failed? What would be the most likely modes of failure? How would those modes of failure change any situations?

He boggled at me for a bit, and told me that if he tried to run all those things at once, his brain would severely lag, lock up, and possibly crash.

It's still frustrating. I think that I ought to be able to think faster, do things faster, work faster...