One foot in front of the other

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Keeping a journal of what I did right and wrong through the day seems like a good idea so far, but it’s only the second day in so I might just be excited about trying out a new little coming home ritual. I’m trying to write something encouraging in it every time I fill in another day, no matter how good or bad the day was. This will be hard on the days where I had a really bad afternoon and I feel like the dumbest, grossest, ugliest person alive, but I think it might help boost my confidence levels and my self image.

Also listening to meditations at night as I sleep to… I don’t know, influence feelings of success I guess. It’s not keeping me from going to sleep so I don’t see any reason to not listen to slowed down dubstep being played over the image of a dollar bill.

Can’t hurt me except if someone comes into my room and asks me what the fuck I’m listening to, I can’t lie that well.

It was a pretty good day today, if you can’t tell by how rational I sound right now. No major fuck ups, I took my job nice and slow, did everything one step at a time. I’ve taken to chalking a piece every time I do something to it, so I remember that I inspected it, and it passed inspection during that round. Touch everything, touch it a lot. Touch it until someone asks you uncomfortable questions about your relationship with that particular piece. Whatever it takes to make sure you don’t mess it up. I need to remember that I don’t work in retail anymore, and that speed isn’t key, it’s quality.

No one expects me to make a million pieces in a day. No one is breathing down my neck demanding I produce more product in less time. I can pull off about seven jobs in a day if I apply myself and pick which ones I do well, and I can do it without rushing.

I really hope I never cry at work ever again for any other reason other than I smashed my whole hand in something. Knock on wood.

GUESS WHAT HAPPENED

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“OH WE’RE SORRY. YOUR INSURANCE DOESN’T COVER LITHIUM UNLESS IT’S MAIL ORDER. HAHAHAHAHA”

eat my ass i will pee on everything you love.

I finally made the call to the insurance supported med delivery bullshit place, gonna call my doctor tomorrow and ask her to fax my scripts to them, then cross my fingers and pray that nothing interesting can be made out of lithium and latuda like… hyper death meth or super crack, so I can get it out of my mailbox without being shot or mugged.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA I AM SO GLAD WE INVENTED MAIL ORDERING IMPORTANT CHEMICALS THROUGH STANDARD SHIPPING. TRULY,  WE ARE THE SMARTEST SPECIES.

im pretty sure my shitty little dog could run an insurance agency better.

So guess what I’ve been dealing with? The assumption that my coworkers are talking about me behind my back and hate me, and that they are conspiring against me. That’s stupid, right? That’s so stupid-

Until it feels super actually really true, and you can hear them laughing as you walk back inside because you wore your welder shirt today and because you operate the robot you’re not a real welder so they think you’re just some dumb ugly poser and no one likes you and your friend doesn’t talk to you anymore because you’ve only got that one friend and your doctor is just being paid to be nice to you and probably doesn’t give a shit because she sees like 18 billion people like whatever who cares.

If I wasn’t a mentally unstable wreck with high taste in alcohol I’d drink the rest of the Christian Brothers Brandy to wash down my ambien. As it is, I cleaned my house, scooped the litter, fed the pets and put real food in my face that wasn’t bought from a vending machine.

I feel like I deserve money for waking the fuck up today.

The Ups and Downs of Bipolar

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fukStopped taking latuda, lithium and zoloft cold turkey. Have not had Latuda for a week now, no lithium for two days, no zoloft for two days.

To be honest, the latuda was stopped because my insurance has decided that I really don’t need to get my shit at the pharmacy and I can just order my fucking latuda through the mail so consider this an experiment and also a go fuck yourself to my insurance.

Moving on, I’ve already noticed a massive change in my mood and energy levels. Sleep hasn’t been as necessary, though I haven’t been able to stop taking my ambien. Unfortunately, just stopping that cold turkey has caused a great deal of really bad nightmares and terrible sleep, so I’ve just had to give up on that.

I’ve also needed less food, though before anyone shits their pants, I’m 180 lbs and 5’2″ so it’s not like I’m going to die. My craving for ice cream, pizza and mountain dew is still firmly intact.

However, my urge to abscond to the gym and cross train has grown and I’m very sore. It does however help ease the odd anxiety and tension I keep feeling build up, as well as ease my temper, which has been flaring up a lot as well. I haven’t felt the urge to intentionally start any fights, though I had no issue with telling a coworker that he was full of horseshit, and also informed him that he needed to do his fucking job and stop vanishing to flirt with his eighteen thousand boyfriends. We have work to do and I want to get home on time, I ain’t got time for him to whisk himself off to the bathroom for a three year long dump.

I also have more energy to keep the apartment clean, and I’ll try to remember to take all the cans to the store tomorrow to recycle.

Paranoia is building though, and I can’t say I blame myself. Still feels like I’m being watched, woke up a few nights convinced someone was sneaking into my apartment. I feel like there’s someone in the door staring at me most days, especially when I’m in my bedroom, and when I drive it’s hard not to keep looking into the rear view mirror to make sure no one is following me.

It also feels like people talk about me at work without me knowing. And that maybe everyone wants me to fail or die or vanish or something. Found mild magical thinking in the form of moving my nine ringed jade sword into the northern corner of the house but that might just be me being a moron.

Have also noticed a growing obsession with germs. Nothing too major as I still apparently don’t give enough shits about it to not pick at scabs, my arms, burns or cuts, but enough so that every little itch and mild discomfort has me starting to wonder if I’m getting sick/am infected with something. Cat scratch on my left jaw is very itchy, as well as the scratch under my left ear. I’m not sure what catscratch fever starts with, but I do know I’ve googled what stomach/colon cancer symptoms and tape worm infestation symptoms look like. The doctor said I don’t have either of these issues but honestly the doctor doesn’t have my stomach.

Will update if anything fucking happens outside of this.