State of the Dana

Yesterday was a lovely day. Given the messed up antidepressant schedule, I only had one small mood crash that only lasted about 20 minutes. And in contrast to that, I had a lot of fun. I was very lucky that my mood chemistry decided to stay that sane.

Thanks to all those who let me know that Walgreens will give you emergency pills; they gave me three, so I'm taken care of through tomorrow. Hopefully my doctor will come through before then...

Today I defeated the evil minions of Crunch, and will mail the envelope which will cancel my membership. The only thing the evil fitness empire is doing that sucks is that they are charging me a $50 cancellation fee even though this cancellation is warranted under the contract. And, it would be nice if they would let me cancel it at the gym instead of having to mail documentation and cancellation request to this po box. Oh well. It could be much worse.

I'm also working to conquer my insane social paranoia. To spell it out, emotionally, I perceive myself as somewhere between tolerated and "liked, but not liked enough to be worth private time outside of a party with" as far as most people are concerned. I do not perceive myself as popular, well-liked, etc. This is because I am insane, and most likely not because of any failing on your part. Someone recently pointed this dichotomy out, and I find it interesting. I am striving to conquer it... I think a few months of an active social schedule in spite of having to avoid a certain person will destroy this perception. Hopefully. Now I just need to make said active social schedule happen! Must email nifty folk and arrange for time with them. Must not be afraid of rejection from the ones I perceive as too busy for me or too popular or whatever. lalalala.

Oh, and I'm nauseous. I have no idea why.

Today will find me Getting Stuff Done, working out, and doing laundry during Happy Hour at Brainwash. Isn't it exciting?

A meme from my friends list which is tough...

My name is Dana. I am a survivor of sexual violence.
No Pity. No Shame. No Silence.

I wondered for a moment what it would look like if just for one day, everyone who had survived sexual violence were visible as a survivor, if we could actually see the extent of it, if we could all know just how very not-alone we are. I wondered how angry and sad it would make me to know. I wondered how much power there might be in the truth. From the journal of misia.

More power to all people who have suffered this very painful psychological trauma, no matter what form it took.

blahs

Really not ok today, but luckily the new scrip should fix that.

In the meantime, I'm struggling with work (as usual), and watching movies.

I just watched Fifth Element for the billionth time. Now I'll go hide in my room with water and some zero calorie foods (since I'm feeling munchy) and watch Peter Pan on my laptop for the first time. If I get more work done today, great, but I'm not counting on it. Not without a substantial increase in my sanity. Maybe I'll get some other useful stuff done, though, like sewing or sorting through paperwork.

The nice thing about acknowledging that I'm undermedicated is that the insanity/depression focuses less and less on specific things, and becomes more ambiguous, which in turn makes it easier to ignore. It also is less likely to have negative repercussions, since most of my potential focii involve some sort of angstiness directed at the people in my life.

BTW, the baby toe I mashed the other day still feels a little funny when I wiggle it. Maybe I did break it, and baby toes just might not hurt much when you walk on them if it is a minor break. Either way, no biggie since it isn't aching and isn't impairing my ability to function or enjoy myself.