I feel bad and beautiful

Prepping for the move is still plodding along at a snail's pace. Which is to be expected because while I have a huge to-do list for the move, most of it can't be completed until the first week of April at the earliest.

Which is driving me absolutely bonkers, as you can probably imagine.

Also, I'm in the midst of a manic phase which is at once terrifying and exhilirating because OMG I want to DO stuff! But I can't focus on what stuff I want to DO so I spend most of my time waffling and planning stuff and then getting distracted by shinies. For instance, last night I read the words virgin Snape somewhere and then had to go look up the Virgin quiz on quiz_sshg and then somehow it was four am and Captain was waking up and he was all "Did you take your pills?" and I was all "Well, not today." and then there was sighing.

Also also, somehow the Demon Spawn's saliva has taken on the same thick, slick viscosity as the drool slime from the Alien movies and that seems a bit creepy.

Also also also, today I had to go on base to get a new military ID as my old one expires next month and still has Captain's rank from two promotions ago, and it's the first ID photo I've had in almost ten years where I did not look like an immediate blood relative of Peter Griffin from Family Guy, so yay there.

And finally also, probably due to the mania, I have been ALL OVER THE INTERNET today, flooding inboxes and looking at photos and drooling at things on Amazon and buying a tiny fedora for the Demon Spawn (two, actually)...

P.S. - I did take my medication when I got up this morning, like a good girl. Promise.

It's been ages since I posted, and just like last time I'm dealing with some medical related issues that I'm not really going to get into detail about just yet - the important bit is that I'm still having my meds adjusted.

I've got another doctor's appointment next week and I'm hoping (HOPING!) that will finalize the changes for awhile.

On the mental health front, Crazy!Doc has pulled me off of ALL my meds due to possible contraindications. Oh yeah, there is no possible way this could end poorly. /sarcasm

So Captain came in to my last psych appointment and spoke to the doctor with me so that we both would have an idea of what warning signs to look for (because I am aware that I don't necessarily recognize the early signs of a depressive episode because those things are sneaky and stealthy and ... well, you know how depression works) because Crazy!Doc wants me to be careful. Captain even grabbed one of my doctor's cards on the way out so that he could make some phone calls if he needed too.

I've also cut back on my caffeine intake like whoa. As in I only drink diet pop when we're out for dinner, and am sticking to ginger ale and flavored water at the house and when we're gaming.

Unfortunately, while all these changes are being made in an effort to make me healthier in the long run, right now I am so worn down and tired and exhausted. I've managed to get the house as unpacked as I can without the Captain having some time to help out, and we have appointments several times a week that I've been making sure we keep on top of, but I've been letting other commitments fall to the wayside and I feel so guilty about that.

Top on the guilt list is the prize I owe bambu345 from the Exchange Bingo. Bambu has been super understanding about my lateness, but I signed up with the understanding that I would produce a fic in a timely manner and that is what I need to do. Easier said than done, of course. I've barely even managed to get a few sentences written (but I've got NOTES!). Still ... I've got a job and I need to do it.

Although I may need a nap first.

Dang it.

Holiday stress? Hormones? General crankiness? The barely working internet connection I am still fighting with? My phone not working at my house but working just fine everywhere else?

I don't know the exact reason, all I know is that yesterday turned into the perfect storm of Miah crazyness and by the time Captain managed to make it home (late, through no fault of his own thanks to a day full of barrack inspections because Someone Important was visiting base) I was ready to blow.

And I did.

And then I apologized to poor Captain several times because - while he did absolutely nothing to help the situation, and actually made it worse a few times - it technically wasn't his fault in the first place and I, as a grown adult type person, have to accept responsibility for my actions and sometimes irrational crazy-pants-ness.

Let's just say that if my phone could actually make a phone call right now, Comcast and T-Mobile heads would be rolling. ROLLING.

Monday Captain and I drove up to South Carolina for another visit with the Crazy!Doc. We spent my fifteen minutes (billed as half an hour, as always) discussing Doctor!Asshat, and I believe this is the first time Crazy!Doc has ever seen me being truly bitchy.

Oh, he's seen me annoyed and bitter and cranky, but never in full on gleeful bitch mode.

By the end of the session he was convinced that New!Doc was an asshat, and he completely agreed that New!Doc should not be mucking about with things he has no business in (ie - my crazy!meds). So Crazy!Doc wrote some new prescriptions for me, to override the ones New!Doc had put into the system, and sent me off to schedule my next appointment in two months.

This morning I had to report to the hospital to see New!Doc again because he got my lab results (from the bloodwork I had to remind him that I needed) and wanted to "discuss treatment options".

Such an eye roll for that one.

Anyway, we showed up thirty minutes early because gate traffic wasn't as bad as we were expecting, which meant we were brought back far earlier than he was expecting. Captain came back to the exam room with me so that we could roll our eyes at each other behind New!Doc's back, which I can already tell is the only way we'll be getting through any future appointments with him.

I brought knitting because I had fully expected to be sitting in the car, waiting to get through security, for a while, so I was sitting on the exam table knitting when New!Doc showed up. He glared at me, either because I'd brought Captain along, or because I didn't immediately drop what I was doing the second he opened the door. I was counting stitches and was all set to mark my place and give him my attention until the glare. After that, I finished counting and didn't bother hurrying as I carefully tucked my knitting away, then turned to face him and gave him the brightest, most innocently cheerful smile ever. That earned me another glare. I'm assuming that one was for not being intimidated by the first.

Whatever.

It seems that New!Doc didn't even realize he'd changed my metformin prescription two weeks ago (upping it by 200mgs a day) because he can't read a typed spreadsheet in 14pt Times New Roman and got the dosage wrong. Also, he put ALL the meds I'm on into the system for refill at that point (including my Crazy!Meds, which he isn't supposed to be touching, hence my earlier discussion with Crazy!Doc) and the hospital pharmacy did their job and filled them as he wrote them, so I don't know why he was copping an attitude with me because I went home with the wrong dosage. So now I've got a huge bottle of 850mg metformin sitting in my cabinet that I can't take because he upped the dosage again this morning.

He also did that annoying thing some doctors do - the scare tactic thing? You know the one, where they tell you if you don't change your evil ways, you'll end up legless, peeing into a bag or something? This time it was... insulin therapy, whispered in this soft, menacing tone. Captain and I shared an eye roll AND a smirk over that one.

I don't know what he wants me to do this time, I'm already taking all my pills as prescribed, limiting my sugar intake, trying to cut back on the red meat by eating more chicken and turkey and the occasional pork chop (lightly breaded with seasoned bread crumbs that I've smashed with my very own rolling pin - FUN!) and I've even been making myself bleed every stupid morning. Captain and I are even heading to the PX this weekend to look at exercise bikes because there is a sale and I can park a bike in the living room and watch zombie movies while I peddle in the privacy of my comfy climate controlled home.

Basically what I'm saying is that I'm doing what I've been told and if the meds I'm taking aren't doing their job to his satisfaction, it's not my fault this time. So he can suck it.

Also - I accidentally locked Bellatrix in the linen/medicine cabinet for a few hours this afternoon and ended up tearing apart most of the house trying to find her before I remembered putting away the unused metformin bottle. So that was fun.

So, yesterday, Captain called to let me know he was done with work and on his way home, as he does everyday because I get very paranoid about strange sounds at the door if I don't know someone is coming because I am just a very paranoid person in general.

Anyway, he called.

Me: What do you want for dinner?

Captain: Whatever is easiest for you to make.

Me: Ah, well... I can't go in the kitchen until you come home.

Captain: WHAT? Why? What happened?

Me: I was reading scary things. On the internet.

Captain: About the kitchen?

Me: No.

Captain: But the kitchen is scary now?

Me: Sort of? More specifically the hallway is dark between me and the kitchen. So I can't get to the kitchen until you come home and turn the light on.

Captain: Ohhhkay. That's fine. I'll turn the light on.

Me: Yay! Maybe I'll try to make it to the kitchen, but don't get your hopes up.

Captain: Fair enough. Can you get to the bathroom?

Me: Nope. I've just been holding it until you come home. Which is a hint. That you should come home.

In case you were curious, I did eventually make it through the dark hallway to the light switch and then took care of things and had dinner started by the time he made it home. BUT, before we went to sleep I made him look under the bed and also in the closet. Also, there was a scary video on youtube that I had watched part of and wanted to know how it would end but I didn't want to watch it myself, so I made him watch it for me and tell me what happened.

And that's yet another reason why I love my husband.

Yesterday I told myself, very firmly, that I was going to Go To Bed Early.

I did not.

However, I did force myself to get up at eight, as planned, and was on the road by ten fifteen, as planned, because I have this thing where I insist on being early for appointments and meetings (and movies) if I can because "If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, you're left." and that has stuck with me for nearly two decades or longer.

Moral of that story - careful what you drill into young impressionable children's heads because they will remember (some of) that crud for the rest of their lives.

Obviously, I was half an hour early for my appointment, and as usual my doctor was five minutes late, but that's still a heck of a lot better than my last psychiatrist who was routinely hours behind schedule. (8:45 appointment? Called back to the office sometime around 11:30. So many books read in that waiting room.)

So, yes... appointment. Yet another new prescription, of course. This time it's something called Buspar for anxiety (se my issues with insisting on being early to things, amongst other charming "quirks"); however, I googled it once I got home because Crazy!Doc couldn't remember if there were any drug interaction issues and told me to ask my pharmacist when I went to fill the prescription and I'm already taking six different kinds of meds every day and it's better to be safe than sorry, and there are some issues that I probably need to discuss with someone who actually knows what they're talking about. Not that wikipedia isn't entertaining and all, but I really don't consider it a "source of factual information". So I'll be printing out a new list of medications Miah is currently forcing herself to take every morning (I hate pills) and dragging that to the hospital at some point.

More importantly, I just got my brand new dress back from being altered today!

Finding a formal dress that does not look shapeless/drab/hideous/strapless(what the hell is up with that, btw?)/all of the above in chubby girl sizes is a PAIN IN THE REAR.

Even though the next ball isn't until spring sometime, I ended up ordering one on-line a few weeks ago because I found one I liked and they had one left in my size (supposedly) and I have spent the last year and change trying to find something I did not hate.

However, they did not send me the size I ordered, they sent the size below that, and by that point they were already sold out of my size. That made me a sad panda. The fact that I actually fit in the size they sent did not cheer me up because while my chest fit in the dress, because of the way the halter neckline closed, the bodice sat way too high. There's a little V-notch thing on the bodice that is supposed to show a tiny bit of cleavage, but in this dress the V-Notch ended up halfway between the breasts and my throat. Not quite the look I wanted. So, for the first time since I was the Maid of Honor at J's wedding, I had a garment altered.

I went in to see if maybe there was a way to extend the closure behind my neck - perhaps add a strip of fabric with a new button and loop or something - and this little woman (for reals, the top of her head hit my shoulders and she had to stand on a box to fiddle with the back of my dress and she kept telling me I was too tall - I am not tall) started pinning bits in and talking about taking things off and adding lace/ribbons/something and removing the train and hemming the bottom in broken English and I didn't want to offend her by asking what the hell she was saying so I just kept nodding because PINS IN MY BACK.

Anywho, picked up my dress today and it fits and I love it. For reals.

Now all I need are some kick'n heels and some jewelry and I'm good to go.

Also, my birthday is Wednesday. I plan to treat myself to expensive cow parts and a baked potato and perhaps some chocolate silk pie and also perhaps some nail polish.

Meds upped. Again.

Pretty sure I'm in the midst of a manic/depression phase that has probably been going on since March, at least. The worst was over a month ago I hope, good gravy, I hope I think, but I'm still breaking into tears at stupid things and last night I cried uncontrollably for a quarter of an hour because I'd "had a fight" with my husband.

Keep in mind, my husband probably wouldn't call it a fight. I suspect, if I were to ask, he would tell me that I sounded sad and unhappy and he was trying to be very careful to not say the wrong thing (he's known me for seventeen years and is well familiar with the whimsies of my emotional state). However, it upset me, and I ended up sitting on the bathroom floor in tears.

I want to do something, but I don't know what, and that is driving me nuts. It's so frustrating. I do know what I don't want to do, and that's the things I normally turn to to fill up my free time.

Maybe things will get better when Captain comes home. Maybe part of it is that I haven't spoken to a non-cashier/non-psychiatrist/non-doctor in person in over five months and I'm going a little stir crazy.

Who knows.

Last time I saw the Crazy Meds Doc, he prescribed sleeping pills. I waited nearly a week before I went in to get the prescription filled, and then my insurance company decided they didn't want to give me the pills the Doc had prescribed, they wanted to give me Ambien instead. But I specifically did not want Ambien, so I sad Hell No, and that took a week to sort out.

So this Sunday, I finally managed to pick up my sleeping pills (supposedly they are very mild and non-addictive and not easy to overdose with, all things I asked for). However, the little warning page mentioned that people can feel a bit groggy the day after, the first few times they take them, so I decided to wait until I knew I didn't have to get up in the morning and drive all over town.

Which was good, because I took my first one last night around eleven and passed out and didn't wake up until three thirty this afternoon.

Ooops.

I have the central air repair guy coming at eight in the morning tomorrow so I probably should not take one of the pills tonight.

Also, I may have witnessed some sort of territory dispute amongst a neighbor and a hoodlum in a white SUV this afternoon, so if I end up murdered in my sleep, that's probably why.

My day sucked ass.

Thank god I'm on crazy meds, that is all I have to say.

I've already had one ten minute emergency phone call with me in tears needing to be calmed down, I'd really rather not repeat it.