Hey, Miss J!

This post is partially NSFW near the bottom. You have been warned.

I had a different idea for my title today. Potential options will be included below… somewhere. I chose otherwise because I just found what I wrote this morning, while waiting to see my psychiatrist.

It went like this:

“@10:10am today.

I forgot where my pants were. Also my keys and wallet. I was supposed to be at my appointment at 9. Got here and found out the doctor has car problems and will be late. 

I’m not sure what to think right now…”

I was told that because I got there after 10AM, I had to wait after she arrived late. I just stared at the man behind the counter and explained that the woman who was supposed to take my vitals took far too long. Why should it take over 10 minutes for something so simplistic? I ended up having to sit down while I waited to have my standard checks done back there.  

Then, I told him that he had completely forgotten to even take my temperature. I’m certain he could tell by the way I addressed him that I was not about to get up yet again to let him do it either.

I also noticed a woman was behind the counter working along with him.

Typical…

Am I annoyed? Yes. I frightened my case worker by explaining that I didn’t want to keep waiting for my already delayed appointment and wasn’t even sure that I wanted to take my meds anymore either.

I didn’t fall nearly as much before I ended up on dual medications.

So now I’m on medication to treat my depression, which I’ve tested positive as ‘bipolar’ for before – but the doctor lost those notes. She’d have to reevaluate me. The medication for my depression increases my anxiety and racing thoughts so I’m on a pill for that, which makes me sleep like the dead half the time. I was just put on a prescription to treat my nerve pain and muscle fatigue – which doubles as anxiety meds, but it ramps me up even more.

Later on, today wasn’t so stressful. I apologized to my caseworker – I’m thinking I was dealing with bad mood swings, however to be fair… the people in the lobby were loud, obnoxious and using so much profanity that it made my head swim.

I explained to my doctor that the noise out there was still mild compared to dealing with just two of my family members. Four of them live there, I no longer speak with any of them.

The caseworker gave me a ride home, which was very good. If I wasn’t so upset, I would have hobbled back up that hill, cane and all.

I didn’t trust myself to drive, so it was a good idea. Hobbling downhill is much easier than back uphill. I managed to return the box I had to the original recipient.

Had some homemade Italian bread with butter and jam for my combination breakfast and lunch. (Brunch? Brunch.)

Took my pillbox upstairs… but when I went to take the meds, I noticed that Thursday’s pills were untouched. But not Wednesday’s.

I don’t know what to think.

If that’s true, if I didn’t mix up the days, I actually forgot my depression medication. My mood soured so quickly after 24 hours.

It’s scary…

I think I’m dependent on Bupropion to feel normal at all now.

I looked up symptoms of withdrawal from that medication, which can happen after a single missed dose… and it included: “Being confused.”

My morning was quite scary. I felt like I was losing my mind, trying to find my pants, wallet and keys.

Mind, I was unaware of how stupid I was. I hadn’t taken any of my medication for over a day. Not even my blood pressure medication.

So, I laid down to nap after having nearly no sleep at all and you wanna know what happened with a restored full dose of my medication resumed after over 24 hours without it?

Along with potent chemicals running through my veins again came strangely explicit dreams. Extremely so.

Wellbutrin and its generic form Bupropion are call the female version of Viagra – with reason.

Worse than before when I’d first started on this dosage. I ended up waking up in the midst of a massive orgasm – with indicators that it hadn’t been the first one by a mile. It stuttered to a stop after I got out of bed, only to return when I went to the bathroom. I’m amazed I was able to make it to the bathroom at all with my muscles quivering so much.

I already wake up in the morning flailing because of having a mask and hose attached to my face.

I don’t need this too.

Now I’m scared to go to sleep, and I need to because I have a meeting in the morning.

I just hope it doesn’t return tonight, but I’m worried that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

Many people would enjoy that side-effect, but I am not one of them.

I want to scream and cry, but can’t. Ugh…

Other potential titles for this blog post:

• “It Hurt Because I Was So Happy For You!”
• “These Points Of Data Make A Beautiful Line”
• “Out of Beta”
• “To Be Released On Time”
• “I Prefer To Stay Inside”
• “This Cake Is Great”
• “Glad I’m Not You”

That’s it for now. I suppose I should file this under “sexual dysfunction” so I can find it again? I worry that this is going to be an even more intense issue in the future.

~J. Lyst