Taking Stock

Well. I'm here.

But first, a side note...

To the makers of Paxil, who still insist on putting out propaganda implying that their medication is not physically addictive:

Go fuck yourselves.

Sincerely, Melanie Johnson (aka Ember Madrone)

We return you now to your regularly scheduled Taking Stock. Warning: stream of consciousness occurring...

It's been a fun day. I've been on 1 a day with my Paxil for about a week, due to poor money management and having to wait for our new FSA (flexible spending account) card to come in the mail. That's usually not a problem, been doing it on and off this past year, because I don't want to be on a full dose if I ever do become pregnant, so I see living on 1 a day as emotional progress (yes, I know, bullshit...but let's move on, shall we?).

So the card came in the mail, I breathed a sigh of relief, and hit the Walgreen's on the way to work this morning to pick up my meds, only to discover that it's been a week since the darn things were filled, so they'd shelved 'em and had to refill 'em. I wasn't about to wait around and be late to work, so I just said I'd pick them up after.

You'd think after more than 10 years of taking the stuff, I'd remember how my brain doesn't appreciate being off it.

I'm already at a disadvantage lately with my eyes too. The ole eye prescription has definitely changed, because wearing my regular contacts and sitting at my computer for 8 hours at a stretch has been producing headaches, floaters, and serious concentration issues. Today was a little better, because I only put one astigmatic contact lens in, gave the other eye a straight myopia lens. Seemed to help, thank goodness...but I still got a mini eye migraine around 3 and wondered how the hell I was going to survive wearing glasses to work, because I really should probably be doing that instead...luckily, Walmart called this afternoon and squeezed me in for this Saturday. Yes, that's right, Walmart Vision actually called me back. I'm still in shock.

So I'm having trouble reading the goddamn screen this afternoon, plowing through Mods, and I realize I'm starting to feel the effects of not having Paxil in my system. It really is a medical oddity that I'm so large, because the way my body metabolizes stuff is insanely fast. My concentration went way haywire and it was all I could do to get my work done. I was starting to fidget, my arms and hands felt like they needed to be shook out, and I ached to be elsewhere. Like roller skating through a mall or something. The tangents my brain goes off on...it brought back memories of college, and that ain't exactly a good thing. By the end of the day, I was starting to physically ache and holding off urges to self-harm.

You will be happy to read that I have since taken my Paxil, as well as a happy pill to take the edge off, and I should be back on kilter (aka, my version of normal) come tomorrow. However, it brings home once again that I'm a bipolar nutbar, Paxil is a physically addictive medication, and the people who manufacture it are douche canoes.

Thanks to the Bloggess for that gem of a phrase.

Moving on!

Outside: rainy and cool. Today was also a reminder that I have no business not wearing my orthotics in my shoes (lord, but I'm an old fart!). I skipped 'em yesterday in favor of flats, and my left knee was arthritic all day today. Going to make appointment for podiatrist to get new ones (orthotics, not knees), as the old ones can't be worn without socks.

Inside: a little glum...will get to that in Hoping.

Wearing: eh, we'll skip that this week...you don't need to hear how since we don't have kids, home is a pants-optional domicile...heheh, ooops......

Creating: second sock, Cozy...Cozy, second sock...

Reading: explicably enjoying Amish fiction, grabbed a trilogy outta the library on the Kindle. Pile o' library books getting varied stages of attention as well...

Going: me, nowhere...Husby, maybe SC...

Hoping...
Dad J in holding pattern, which isn't doing him or the immediate family any good. They are planning to start a new regimen in another week, but his looks declined enough to scare Mom and get her calling docs, and his regular oncologist recommended hospice again. Wish we were there to advise her better, because I'd have told her to not even call that office, to get information from the Charleston docs...

Husby's feeling the fear and sadness, I can tell. I hope they ask him to go up there, because he should be closer to his Dad, regardless of how things pan out. This sucks. Keep us in your prayers please.

Image from here.