carly monster

 

Talked to Jenny about our respective ongoing mental crises. She is neck deep in depression and has been for ages, but has always been resistant to medication. My mind/mood is a mess; I am in a mixed state as a baseline, I think, bobbing from deep depression to  agitated and anxious and even up to manicky on and off. I feel super restless and somatically weird most of the time, like my body is wrong. I don't know how else to describe it.

I just don't know what to do. I'm not in any danger, I promise, but I get out of bed every morning thinking why? and every second feels like a fight. I'm going to that new neurologist in Nashville at the end of February; who knows, maybe she can help. Lucky number 13. They're talking about medical trials and monthly infusions, and I just hope I can endure it. My bipolar disorder, I don't know. My pdoc continues to push for more drastic options, and honestly my resistance to the ECT is wavering. I am afraid, because of how my cognition is changing these past few years and how I am losing parts of my mind and parts of myself even without the treatment, and if I have the treatment, will I still be able to write? How can I reach in and pull out memories I connections if that space is empty? But why am I living in this hell, useless, without trying what might be a cure?

Pray for me.

Got my first bill from the hospital. I am so grateful I am not responsible for the full amount, which is more than $11,000, but I am less enthused about the $825 I do have to pay, especially considering the garbage fire that is the current state of my finances.

This is fine.

 I made it to Utah! It was grueling. I feel awful. I made arrangements for assistance with the airline ahead of time, but they weren't ready for me anywhere. I specifically requested help carrying my bags, but it was not provided, so we had to spend another $130 at the counter checking our carryons. I had to wait for a wheelchair everywhere; we were asked to wait until all the other passengers deplaned before getting off to give the wheelchairs time to arrive, but every time we would have to walk out to the gate and have one paged. This is just one day I had to endure this disinterest and disrespect; I feel just awful thinking about those who consistently need this kind of help.

The last airport, though, we waited until the plane was empty, then waited while the girl at the gate paged the help I requested days ago, but James, the guy who came with the wheelchair, was awesome. He was gregarious and helpful; when we explained about our luggage, he found a way to take care of it all, and the whole time he acted like he wanted to help us. It was really nice, and I'm going to have to find a nice way to have him recognized.

I went to see one of the NPs at my neurologist's office this morning so I could get some Maxalt refills. This has been an absolute nightmare. About a month ago, I called for some refills and was told I should have enough to get me to the new doctor (February 23, 2018), when I had none. Zero. Zip. I called back and basically cried describing my life to the doctor's voicemail, and since then we have been trying to communicate, but--and this took us a while to figure out--they were calling my parents' house phone, which no one uses, and honestly I don't even know how they got that number, but even asking them over and over and over again not to call any number but my cell phone, I would call and leave a message for them, and they would call the house phone. Yesterday I finally called someone else in the office and explained what was going on, and they worked me in for an emergency appointment this morning. She's nice enough, I guess, even though I got pretty upset trying to explain about Dr. Vogt. She put me on a drug for nerve pain, an NSAID, and a muscle relaxer, which... should be interesting, I guess. I'll try anything. She wrote me some Maxalt, though, so I'm pretty happy.

I feel awful. My body is done. Thankfully, incredibly, the pain in my head wasn't too bad today, but the abdominal pain, and the exhaustion... Well, let's just hope I feel better tomorrow.

One other unrelated, totally minor thing that is stuck in my craw: My recipient for Random Pair Fest 2017 never commented on the story I wrote her. She didn't even hit the kudos button. I know I'm reading too much into it, but I always put that on me: Why didn't she like it? What did I do wrong?

Too much thinking. Time for sleep.

Much love. xoxo