Firstly, I wanted to take a moment to thank the half dozen or so people responsible for yesterday’s post. Before I even thought about turning it into a post, I’d been talking to several friends, which then in turn helped me organize my thoughts in a way that pleased me and expunged any minor ire I might have had. But it’s certainly part of why I love having a wide circle of acquaintanceship/friendship — much like putting a stone in a rock tumbler, other people are the grit that give an idea-rock a bright finish. I think most of y’all have already taken your bows here and there, so hooray for that.
I’m lucky to know so many awesome and intelligent people, and that also goes for any of you guys who made comments and expressed opinions to the post itself. You all helped me prove a good point whether or not you know it — Miss Brosh’s experiences are a great starting point for discussion, rather than the film finish happy ending. So it made me rather happy that the most verbose comments were folks who supported what she had to say, because it was an honoring of the things she had to say by turning it into a discussion. I agree with them — she had a lot of good to say, and I will definitely make use of the dead fish metaphor in the future. But certainly, the corn moment isn’t the end-all point for everyone, no matter how identifiable-with it is for some!
My appointment with the psychiatrist went well yesterday, in my opinion. We’re upping my dose of Seroquel by another 50mg to 400mg, and adding in 50mg of sertraline (Zoloft). The addition of an antidepressant is something we’ve been holding back on, especially with my history of rapid cycling. The Seroquel has pretty much obliterated that, but there’s still enough episodes of depression and that mixed episode and whatnot that it’s worth tossing it on the pile. I’m hopeful — Zoloft is indicated for anxiety, depression, and OCD amongst various things, and those are the main things that I need a little boost-up on. I know it’ll take a couple of weeks for it to kick in in any meaningful way, so we’ll see. I just want to not feel terrible all the time. No matter how cheerful and cogent I might come off as, I feel like hell and it’s hard to think.
Oh, and I have to get another blood test done for the stupidest reason. My results came back with no issues with prolactin (so the Seroquel isn’t screwing up my menstrual cycle, I guess), but with a glucose result through the roof. Nobody freaking told me they’d be testing glucose. I was there drinking a damned soda when the test card was being written out. So I have to go in some morning next week to re-take it and show that my glucose levels are nearly normal. But oi doctors, why do they NEVER tell me about the glucose testing (which requires fasting)? Ah well, it’s only a minor annoyance in the scheme of things.
For the moment, I’m just sort of woozy and dopey. There’s an edge of ennui trying to wedge itself in a bit, but I’m doing my best to fight it off//resist the urge to go back to bed and sleep forever. I’ll hopefully figure something out to occupy my brain.