Lost the med lottery today. I ate first, took my Trintellix, and BAM. Stomach ache and nausea so bad I think the flu is more appealing. THIS is why people don’t want to take meds or stay on them. I missed maybe two doses and there was no withdrawal, but even after two doses missed, you go right back to the original side effects from the first months of treatment and dose increases. It’s maddening. Yet I am reluctant to give up on it because it’s kept me vertical this long, it’s doing something. I dread taking it every day, though. It’s like trying to work yourself up to go in for a root canal. It’s worse than lithium nausea ever thought of being. While I know it will pass once I get a week of solid dose built back up, but still. Two missed doses should not involve in such nasty side effects. But alas, I know, I’m the one who got so scatterbrained I forgot my meds, I brought it on myself. My fault or not, the fact is, Trintellix has been one of the harshest meds I’ve been on.
Another NUTSYFUCKINGKOOKOO side effect from this medication, which of course, the doctors deny yet the message boards are full of people experiencing it as well, is the itching. Not just my whole skin, but my scalp. It’s got me using special shampoos, checking me and my kid constantly for head lice. And that’s precisely how it feels every single day no matter how long I am on it…Like living with a headful of lice crawling around in my hair and on my scalp.
I’m out of bed and dressed and doing my prison term. I mean, at the shop. R texted yesterday about his needs. Didn’t bother asking how I am. Doesn’t care the customers are pissed off, that he’s running the business into the ground. He gives zero fucks about anyone but his own needs. And I get it, he’s been out of state for two and a half weeks, he missed Thanksgiving with his family, he’s in limbo, unsure when they’re gonna be finished with the job and come back…I get it, he’s stressed,too, and then he has to come back to all this mess at the shop. BUT he brought this on himself. We have all tried to tell him, he is too egomaniacal to listen. So he kind of made his bed and needs to lie in it. And I think I deserve a goddamn Christmas bonus for dealing with all the enraged people who cuss me, yell at me, hang up on me, slam the door on me. But he would never think to do something so thoughtful and kind.
He’s the ‘I don’t want to know about the pregnancy,labor, or birth, just give me the baby’ type. I am the “Was the pregnancy difficult? How long were you in labor? How’s the baby? Any complications post partum?” I want the whole story because I care. I can’t stop being this person and he can’t stop being that person. It’s always been a tightrope act of our personalities clashing or meshing. I just don’t know I need another thoughtless insulting person who takes me for granted in my life when my family has it covered in spades. Tis why I have the three week plan in place. Though, I’m kind of plotting bitch cos I ain’t telling him about til after he fixes our heat. (Landlord told me if I blew another $200 main board I’d have to pay for it and the lazy Hvac guys always say it’s the board or else they’d have to know something and do some work, so fuck that, I’m gonna be a devious snake and have R fix it. That can be my Christmas bonus…please don’t think I’m horrible, heat is kind of necessity.)
At least I am not alone in my views here. All his friends, and even customers, say he’s ruined the place and the reputation. Least this time I know it’s not bipolar distortion or my personality flaw. He screwed the pooch on this one.
My kid had a warbler last night. First one in days. I shouldn’t have let her have the single peanut butter cup. Sugar always sends her around the bend but I find absolute denial makes kids sneak stuff and I don’t want her feeling she has to sneak food, even junk food, so she develops some shame disorder over food. But she went off the rails about being stupid and ugly, though the timing was convenient. She’d informed me she and a bunch of other kids were playing tag more like hockey slamfest so they all got lunch and recess detentions today. I can’t very well be disciplinarian and all when my kid’s having a self confidence meltdown, right? My mom says I make stuff up about how bad Spook acts out, that I make it worse than it is, like I am out to get her or something. No, that was my mom, always so harsh on me yet clueless that she was. I am interested in my kid not becoming a sociopath, being her friend is not my job. I make nothing up, this is her behavior. If I wanted to frame job her, I’d never point out her good behaviors. Hell, if I weren’t a loving, devoted mom, I’d have done run away from home because frankly, living in fear of an 8 year old going violent on me isn’t a pleasant life. But here I am, still trying, and my mom is accusing me of making it all up. As if I have a damned thing to gain by saying Spook misbehaves when she doesn’t.
This morning was no better. She had church last night so didn’t get to sleep til 9:30, come alarm today she started yelling at me it was too early and she was tired. Maybe the late night church thing needs to be done away if she can’t manage on an hour less sleep.
I’m not gonna say I am handling things with much grace. I’m hanging by some frayed thread here (while the sensation of crawling bugs on my scalp is making me nuts, but at least the nausea has subsided). I must have wakened 4 times during the night and I only hit snooze twice today because out of the gate…my brain starts spinning and stressing and worrying. How am I gonna get Christmas and pay all the bills? The car keeps dying on me, idle is too low, what am I gonna do if it keels over? Ugh, do I have to see the apathetic psych nurse who makes me feel so shitty? Isn’t there a better med that won’t make me feel like I have year round head lice? Round and round it goes, where it stops…I wish I knew.
But hey world, I am serving my time, vertical and at least wearing clothes I didn’t sleep in. I haven’t showered in 4 days but hey, as long as I am upright….I really hate life sometimes. I hate bipolar life. And more than anything…I despise depression. It’s one of the cruelest disorders one can live with. And one you won’t find much empathy for even amongst psychiatric professionals. Joy, joy, happy, happy.
Z-whack me now, please.