Breaking the Ice
So I've been out of the hospital for two weeks now, and I can't say I really feel that much better. I'm going to Outpatient classes three days a week for three hours each day. I guess they're helping a little. It doesn't help that I've developed a car phobia and driving is mentally tiring and scary as hell, like it's never been before. I don't know where that came from. And I can't even see a message blink on the answering machine without thinking it's horrible news.
We're not going to Florida this year because I had to fuck it up and get sick again. C already made arrangements with her job so I feel especially bad that she'll have that time off with nowhere to go. We may go to the AmericInn for a night because they have a pool with lax closing hours. Last time we were in there until twelve-thirty in the morning and still no one came to shoo us out for closing time. We were just pruney and wanted to go smoke and watch Adult Swim.
But now I can't even watch Adult Swim because I have to go to bed at 11 each night. Eratic sleeping hours are a no no in therapy. So is smoking weed, but how the hell am I supposed to just stop doing the ONE AND ONLY THING that stops the panic and hummingbird feeling in my chest and body? Today one of my therapists told me she doesn't wear her seatbelt 100% of the time. In my opinion, that's MORE wrong than smoking pot, which I do responsibly in my own home and not around anyone who doesn't like it. I was just floored at that statement, that she doesn't always wear her seatbelt. My brain can't even comprehend the wrongness of this situation.
I had my first piss test today. It will be "dirty" and I am almost certain they'll never get a "clean" sample from me. I know Obama isn't going to legalize, but the best we can hope for is a state-based decriminalization. I'd get involved with NORML, but I'm too paranoid, that has NOTHING to do with weed. If anything, weed makes me LESS paranoid. It puts things into perspective for me, and it centers me back to the earth where I understand not everything is out to get me or that failure lurks around every decision I make.
Weed makes the things I dread seem comical, like I can handle anything, becaue nothing in life can ever be THAT bad. But maybe they can be, I'm just stuck with thinking something bad will always happen. My mom says that's OCD, but I think I've just been screwed over too many times by life.
Carolyne is coming over tonight so we can play some Guitar Hero. GH always gets my mind off of matters (got my foot on the ladder and I'm climing up to the moon?), and it keeps my hands busy and not pulling out my hair.
Oh, in other news, My nephew is the cutest baby I've ever seen. He's such a pleasant soul. So happy and he giggles when you just brush your lips on his delicate ears for a tiny kiss. I wish I didn't have panic attacks when thinking about him entering the wild world, but I can't control anything that happens to him. I'm only in control of my own emotions, and what happens to me. It's just remember that that's the key.
Well, this post took a lot out of me so I'm going to go take a power nap and/or a Seroquel to calm down. I just hope the Lamictal starts working soon. I'm up to 50mg a day and I still swing from moods like fucking Curious George on a vine. But I'm trying to remain positive and keep changing. We played Pictionary in open group today, and my drawing of a piggy bank totally owned. Hell yea.
Until next time,hopefully not eight weeks from now, take care journal land. And remember: No Dumping, No Jiving.
We're not going to Florida this year because I had to fuck it up and get sick again. C already made arrangements with her job so I feel especially bad that she'll have that time off with nowhere to go. We may go to the AmericInn for a night because they have a pool with lax closing hours. Last time we were in there until twelve-thirty in the morning and still no one came to shoo us out for closing time. We were just pruney and wanted to go smoke and watch Adult Swim.
But now I can't even watch Adult Swim because I have to go to bed at 11 each night. Eratic sleeping hours are a no no in therapy. So is smoking weed, but how the hell am I supposed to just stop doing the ONE AND ONLY THING that stops the panic and hummingbird feeling in my chest and body? Today one of my therapists told me she doesn't wear her seatbelt 100% of the time. In my opinion, that's MORE wrong than smoking pot, which I do responsibly in my own home and not around anyone who doesn't like it. I was just floored at that statement, that she doesn't always wear her seatbelt. My brain can't even comprehend the wrongness of this situation.
I had my first piss test today. It will be "dirty" and I am almost certain they'll never get a "clean" sample from me. I know Obama isn't going to legalize, but the best we can hope for is a state-based decriminalization. I'd get involved with NORML, but I'm too paranoid, that has NOTHING to do with weed. If anything, weed makes me LESS paranoid. It puts things into perspective for me, and it centers me back to the earth where I understand not everything is out to get me or that failure lurks around every decision I make.
Weed makes the things I dread seem comical, like I can handle anything, becaue nothing in life can ever be THAT bad. But maybe they can be, I'm just stuck with thinking something bad will always happen. My mom says that's OCD, but I think I've just been screwed over too many times by life.
Carolyne is coming over tonight so we can play some Guitar Hero. GH always gets my mind off of matters (got my foot on the ladder and I'm climing up to the moon?), and it keeps my hands busy and not pulling out my hair.
Oh, in other news, My nephew is the cutest baby I've ever seen. He's such a pleasant soul. So happy and he giggles when you just brush your lips on his delicate ears for a tiny kiss. I wish I didn't have panic attacks when thinking about him entering the wild world, but I can't control anything that happens to him. I'm only in control of my own emotions, and what happens to me. It's just remember that that's the key.
Well, this post took a lot out of me so I'm going to go take a power nap and/or a Seroquel to calm down. I just hope the Lamictal starts working soon. I'm up to 50mg a day and I still swing from moods like fucking Curious George on a vine. But I'm trying to remain positive and keep changing. We played Pictionary in open group today, and my drawing of a piggy bank totally owned. Hell yea.
Until next time,hopefully not eight weeks from now, take care journal land. And remember: No Dumping, No Jiving.