(no subject)
Well, it's been pouring rain all day and it's something like 60° F (which is roughly 15° C for those of you who live where measurements make sense), so what's a girl to do when it drizzly and freezing? Why, get Eegee's, of course! For those of you who don't know (and that's probably 99% of my flist) an Eegee is kind of like a Slushy, only better because it's got chunks of fruit in it. Plus, it's a Tucson-based company so I don't feel guilty like I do when I go to other fast food places. So I've got my strawberry Eegee, which makes me happy even though it's really too cold out. Heaven, though? Heaven is a giant Eegee when it's 100° outside (which is...um...math makes brain hurt...40-ish degrees C).
So, I shall enjoy my ice-cold Eegee while I give you the latest mental health update.
I've been much less suicidal lately. Actually, I'm never actually suicidal. I don't want to die. I never want to die. I'm a huge fan of staying alive, truth be told, but part of my OCD is semi-uncontrollable suicidal thoughts. That would be the "obsession" part. I don't know why, but I'm always thinking about killing myself, nearly every day, but the thoughts terrify me and I get scared that I'll do it accidentally or against my will (I know that makes no sense, but I'm crazy so just work with me, k?), so then I make a routine that insures (to me, at least) that I won't ever have the chance to accidentally commit suicide, which is the "compulsion" part of OCD. So I do things like make sure my knives are all in the drawer where they belong and that I haven't put them near my bed without thinking about it. I check and re-check my carbon monoxide detector. All my box cutters are in my locked storage shed in my garage because they're what scares me the most because my sucidal thoughts are almost always about slicing my wrists with razor blades--like the kind found in box cutters. I actually wrote a fic about it called "Pulse" that's probably one of the more revealing stories I've ever written in that it really goes into detail of what my thoughts are like on a typical day, imagining the blood drops hitting the floor as I walk along.
Anyway, so that's just another glimpse into the odd cavern that is my brain, but it's been a lot better lately. It's actually a huge indicator of whether or not I've taken my meds on time--if the scary suicide thoughts come then I know I've forgotten my meds and need to take them ASAP.
But then my agoraphobia has been just as bad or worse, depending on the day/time/position of the planets or what have you, and it doesn't seem related whatsoever to my medication. I still haven't started BuSpar because I always resist taking new drugs and because I have to go to the pharmacy and then wait for them to fill it and just the thought of sitting there in the Walgreens waiting for my prescription causes a lot of anxiety. I know, I'm a mess. But I've decided to give the BuSpar a try, at least, so I'll be going to Walgreens tomorrow morning to get it filled.
And on a completely unrelated note, I got one of those plug in air fresheners and my entire house now smells like green apples, which kind of rocks.
So, I shall enjoy my ice-cold Eegee while I give you the latest mental health update.
I've been much less suicidal lately. Actually, I'm never actually suicidal. I don't want to die. I never want to die. I'm a huge fan of staying alive, truth be told, but part of my OCD is semi-uncontrollable suicidal thoughts. That would be the "obsession" part. I don't know why, but I'm always thinking about killing myself, nearly every day, but the thoughts terrify me and I get scared that I'll do it accidentally or against my will (I know that makes no sense, but I'm crazy so just work with me, k?), so then I make a routine that insures (to me, at least) that I won't ever have the chance to accidentally commit suicide, which is the "compulsion" part of OCD. So I do things like make sure my knives are all in the drawer where they belong and that I haven't put them near my bed without thinking about it. I check and re-check my carbon monoxide detector. All my box cutters are in my locked storage shed in my garage because they're what scares me the most because my sucidal thoughts are almost always about slicing my wrists with razor blades--like the kind found in box cutters. I actually wrote a fic about it called "Pulse" that's probably one of the more revealing stories I've ever written in that it really goes into detail of what my thoughts are like on a typical day, imagining the blood drops hitting the floor as I walk along.
Anyway, so that's just another glimpse into the odd cavern that is my brain, but it's been a lot better lately. It's actually a huge indicator of whether or not I've taken my meds on time--if the scary suicide thoughts come then I know I've forgotten my meds and need to take them ASAP.
But then my agoraphobia has been just as bad or worse, depending on the day/time/position of the planets or what have you, and it doesn't seem related whatsoever to my medication. I still haven't started BuSpar because I always resist taking new drugs and because I have to go to the pharmacy and then wait for them to fill it and just the thought of sitting there in the Walgreens waiting for my prescription causes a lot of anxiety. I know, I'm a mess. But I've decided to give the BuSpar a try, at least, so I'll be going to Walgreens tomorrow morning to get it filled.
And on a completely unrelated note, I got one of those plug in air fresheners and my entire house now smells like green apples, which kind of rocks.