Seize the night?
I had at least two complex partial seizures over the weekend that I remember. Sunday night was fairly memorable. I was running a fever, cramping from PMS, tired in general. I lost a couple of minutes, which was the seizure. I canceled today's psychotherapy session. I left messages for my doctors and my disability attorney. I stayed up for an hour more to monitor myself. I went to bed.
Adam came home at three in the morning, after working a sixteen-hour day in downtown DC. He was given today off to sleep and recover. We're hanging out and doing our thing. I'm groggy and wibbly-wobbly and drained and achy and sore and still PMSing (bleeding starts this Wednesday) and etcetera. Time for more pills. Also, I seem to be handling the Zoloft well. Not even a week out and I'm still not experiencing serious side effects, just small ones. I will keep going.
The cats were all over us this morning in bed. Rose plopped herself down on my right side and penned me in, while Jupiter settled down on my left side and propped himself up on my torso, purring madly when we scratched his head and stroked his back. Luna was still in her bed on top of Adam's dresser, but she came down to sit on Adam for a while. Much purring.
I'm still very satisfied with the new haircolor. The decision to go into the salon was completely spontaneous. I do remember, on Saturday morning, looking in the mirror and thinking how dull and tired I seemed. Washed out. I was tired of the faded red color from last summer. I was thinking about how I might have looked had I inherited Dad's black hair instead of Mom's medium brown hair. I was thinking that I could buy a couple of boxes of very dark brown hair dye myself and ask a friend to help. I was thinking I might wait to have it done professionally instead. When I went to the King Farm center to run my errands, I hadn't been thinking about my hair. But then I found the Hair Cuttery coupon in my purse, and why not, I was already there. I just really needed that change. Funny how a new haircolor makes a difference like that.
Having such strikingly dark hair makes me feel confident and cool about myself in a way I have not felt in years. Like I could face the night, the pain, the shit in life, and be all right. Although that could mostly be the Zoloft talking...
Adam came home at three in the morning, after working a sixteen-hour day in downtown DC. He was given today off to sleep and recover. We're hanging out and doing our thing. I'm groggy and wibbly-wobbly and drained and achy and sore and still PMSing (bleeding starts this Wednesday) and etcetera. Time for more pills. Also, I seem to be handling the Zoloft well. Not even a week out and I'm still not experiencing serious side effects, just small ones. I will keep going.
The cats were all over us this morning in bed. Rose plopped herself down on my right side and penned me in, while Jupiter settled down on my left side and propped himself up on my torso, purring madly when we scratched his head and stroked his back. Luna was still in her bed on top of Adam's dresser, but she came down to sit on Adam for a while. Much purring.
I'm still very satisfied with the new haircolor. The decision to go into the salon was completely spontaneous. I do remember, on Saturday morning, looking in the mirror and thinking how dull and tired I seemed. Washed out. I was tired of the faded red color from last summer. I was thinking about how I might have looked had I inherited Dad's black hair instead of Mom's medium brown hair. I was thinking that I could buy a couple of boxes of very dark brown hair dye myself and ask a friend to help. I was thinking I might wait to have it done professionally instead. When I went to the King Farm center to run my errands, I hadn't been thinking about my hair. But then I found the Hair Cuttery coupon in my purse, and why not, I was already there. I just really needed that change. Funny how a new haircolor makes a difference like that.
Having such strikingly dark hair makes me feel confident and cool about myself in a way I have not felt in years. Like I could face the night, the pain, the shit in life, and be all right. Although that could mostly be the Zoloft talking...