It is just before Christmas and I am feeling bleh. I am tired, I am a bit sad, I am a bit frustrated. I don’t know what’s going on with me. Probably my new meds. I dunno.
Went to the psych again and he added Wellbutrin to my mix. Read mixed reviews about it. Also discovered it is being used for people to stop smoking!
But I don’t want to stop smoking!
The thing is, I know I have to. But currently I am struggling my way through a marshland of serious mental difficulties. This weight loss has made a volcano erupt somehow. Which is a good thing, cause it’s stuff that was always there under the surface with which I never dealt. I dealt with it by eating myself to death.
Now I don’t eat myself to death anymore, thank fuck. BUT. now I am dealing with things I’ve had difficulty dealing with for over 20 years. And I need something. So I have my menthols.
(And lately some Benylin with codeine, and that is so so so bad, i am trying to stop, honest to God)
It is just that I am crawling out of my skin, I want to shout, but it is as if it’ll just resonate, from one corner to the other to the other to the other all over me.
And in the meantime I am trying to cope with my parents’ very dire situation as well as me and my brother had a big falling out, which totally tore my world apart.
It also came to light that indeed it seems I am bipolar. so yay, I suffered from untreated bipolar disorder right through my teens and student years and trying to do my best, and fix everything and everyone, and yeah. Couldn’t just help myself anymore.
So I ate.
Now. I smoke. And now these Wellbutrin tablets (or the sleeping pills he prescribed) are leaving a TERRIBLE taste in my mouth. I struggle to drink water even, and I LOVE water! That is all I drink! litres of it!
So it seems a bit of a problem.
I am trying to center myself and stay focused and taking me-time and do mindfullness as I was told. And it feels that it is working. But then I get moments like these. Where I sit in front of my computer and work and I just want to cry. And I don’t feel like doing anything. The thought of going home and reading a book doesn’t even excite me and make me happy – and that concerns me, because that is surely my favourite thing.
I don’t know. Sometimes I just get tired of this long journey I am on. It has its oases. Make no mistake. There are wonderful places along this yellow brick road. So many, that I would have to do a seperate post. But this is my moaning post. Cause I need to wallow a bit. When I am feeling better, I promise I will tell you all about the cool places I’ve discovered on this journey.
But now this weirdly bipolar, demented, disordered, girl interrupted just needs a bloody break.
And a smoke, darnit.