For the last few several months I have come more and more to rely on alcohol to make me feel...not even good, just more sane, slightly closer to able to "deal". It's like this...I go to work and barely function...and then I go home and drink a beer to make reality more palatable. Nothing really excites me anymore. I had a little spurt of enthusiasm at the beginning of the summer but it's clearly expired.
Then last week I didn't want to eat. I thought it was because of an antibiotic I was taking. But...no. This week it's evolved. I feel a little darker. Like a cloud rolled in. And the self-medication has evolved too. At least it's delicious. Yesterday I chugged a large order of hot and sour soup at my desk (crap, just talking about me makes me NEED IT) and just now I trucked over to the gas station to grab a container of the best fucking Ben and Jerry's I've ever had in my life (Bonaroo Buzz...I can't even tell you what's in it because I'll go get what little is left and finish it). Then I go home and chug a beer.
Aside from that I have no appetite at all.
I feel no joy.
I have zero optimism. I actually keep trying to think of "fun" things to write about but...meh.
I know to a lot of people a beer or two doesn't seem like a lot but I'm an extreme lightweight that actually gets a buzz off a half a beer.
I know my prescriber would have been telling me to take an ativan but I know that you shouldn't take that every day either. If you feel like you need to, something is clearly wrong.
And something really is clearly wrong.
I have been sort of ignoring it because I have genuine "socio-environmental challenges" right now and I've been patiently hoping they would evolve so that I could see if my dis-ease was related to that or related to body chemistry. Truly, I want to take some dynamite to my socio-environmental challenges...I need and deserve a break. But I don't have the luxury right now.
Am I sick? Is my environment sick? Yes to both. Is patience going to kill me? I'm starting to feel like it.
So...yesterday I went to a store that sells Happy Lites. Priced them. Not in the budget for the paycheck but my husband agrees it's worth the investment. And as soon as I'm done typing I'm going to call my prescriber.
Problem is, my anti-depressant (which clearly isn't doing shit for me) is also my migraine vertigo medication. If I stop taking it, I may very well lapse into disability.
GAHHHHHHHHHHHH. But I'm making the call anyway.