Yesterday I did what I never thought I'd do. Or at least what I hoped I wouldn't. I had an overpowering need to find my pills. To find the seroquel and ativan and either take them or simply hold the knowledge of where they were. I needed to know. I searched the entire area where I thought they were hidden - feeling more desperate and angry by the second. I didn't find them. I felt more disappointed in myself then words can describe. Disappointed for not finding them, and disappointed for wanting to find them in the first place.
And then this morning I was completely reminded of why it is I hate seroquel. I tried to be slow to get out of bed. I sat on Remy's bed for a while. I took my time - and still when I came downstairs I was so dizzy and nauseous and nearly blacked out. It was tense and shaky and it sucked. I hate what this med does to me. Even now I still feel a little unsteady a little off. Maybe it was so bad this morning because I took it late. Its either I lose an evening because I cant stay awake or I feel like complete shit the next morning. Where is the middle ground?
One of my fears in my really down moments was that when and if I ever felt better than I would realize that I was really fighting for nothing, and that nothing had changed. I have felt better, over all I guess, the last couple of days - but I am left with that feeling of what has changed? Really, nothing has. I still feel like I have nothing. Like nothing is mine. That I'm not working for anything for me. I still wonder what all the fighting is for. What's in it for me? This feeling scares me. I wanted so badly to feel better, and when I do have moments it doesn't seem entirely worth it.
I feel really low today. Really off. Really done. I feel like shit, I look like shit - I even intended to wear a bra today, and makeup just to try to make myself feel a little better about myself. But the shirt didn't look right even with a bra - it looks fantastic on Andrea though, really can't wear it anymore. My cover-up was gone - thanks Remy, so no makeup, and my hair is in a half dishevelled pony tail with a blue spot on my head from the dye. I look and feel like a hot mess and that doesn't help my mood.
I go see wiggers today, and Ill tell him that I *do* feel better. But at what cost? I still don't feel like me. I still feel far away. Still feel padded. But still feel down. IDK...it is an improvement.
Its taking so much effort.