Old and New Problems

Cried over a problem I was having last night… I suppose I am still having it, but I don’t know that I will cry about it again. At least not for a while. I don’t know how universal this experience is but I find there’s only so much of one emotion available at any one time. They can have their peaks but they always seem to peter off. This includes good humor and tears. Sadness comes much like a storm, with stronger and weaker patches of activity. Eventually it is time for the storm to move on.

With emotions, the way they can wax and wane to me advocates their chemical nature. Chemicals build up and cause reactions and they also dissipate, lose their potency. I know this isn’t the only component to a person’s brain activity, but this interplay of chemical levels certainly seems to be relevant. It makes me wonder what else is responsible for the ebb and flow in my mind. Does it have to do with neurons that are firing? Do they only fire the same patterns so many times in succession before they “tire” themselves?

I did cry on and off while I talked to my mom on the phone last night, but ultimately the tears did stop and there was a calm, if melancholy, feeling that took the place of my sadness. The problem is still there, it hasn’t gone away. I’m not sure if I’m ready to share it. I want to ground it in more learned, detached opinions before I truly go forward. My mom and my friends have been great supporting me with this, but I feel it needs to be looked into by a professional. Dr. R is on vacation until Monday, so it might be up to me to seek out interim counseling.

Part 2 of the purge of the apartment was underway today and I am beat. It’s sort of embarrassing how little stamina I have. I don’t like feeling sapped of energy and it seems to happen all too easily. I suppose I need to find a way to level up my stamina. Something much easier to do in an rpg than in real life. I keep dancing around the issue that is my need to see my GP but I haven’t quite gotten the courage to do it yet. Also, other things keep popping up that feel more pressing.

What is making me drag my heels, exactly? It probably stems from having body-image issues. At the root of it, two of my physical health problems require ultrasounds. This basically means having a stranger press hard against your exposed body with a plastic object over and over. And it has to be the stomach area, to boot. Probably the place that I am the most sensitive about. I’ve had it done before and it hurts on top of that. It’s awkward, embarrassing and painful. I have basically built up a huge amount of avoidance towards this issue and it is not something I can easily surmount. For the hormone/pcos issue they even did an ultrasound already, but somehow no one knows where the results went, so I have to do it again. I am also very afraid that to examine my stomach concerning the reoccurring nausea that they are going to do an upper endoscopy. Yeah. Stick a camera down my throat. I am not comfortable with that idea at all.

Add to this that I have guilt about telling the GP that I haven’t had any tests yet and talking to her seems really difficult. Sorry Dr. V, it’s not really you, it’s me and my silly fears.

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Rx change, fingers crossed

Went to my psychiatrist today. (Dr. R.) I cried a little in the waiting room thinking of describing how I’ve been feeling since I saw him last. I didn’t cry in front of him, though. Good thing? Bad thing? Maybe it would have been a better indicator of what it’s been like. Still, I suppose it’s a good thing that he can be a calming presence. I was able to feel like it there was something he could do. He changed one of my medications and gently suggested I also see my GP to check on my hormones. (Trying not to put pressure on me to see the GP, because he was aware that I was already avoiding it.)

During my time in support groups, I’ve heard of some bad experiences with doctors in the mental health field and I think I’ve been pretty lucky in that respect. Some people have not been able to trust their doctor, some have felt judged by their doctor, and others have been downright insulted. Some doctors have washed their hands of a patient, which is awful. I’ve never had to go through that. My one friction with a doctor happened during one of my hospital visits. (Dr. S.) He seemed mostly clueless as to what to do, yet oddly focused on whether I was eating my vegetables. As though I would be happier if I just ate more greens. (I was eating them… hospital meals include them!)

I’m experiencing a lot of back and forth lately. I get the internal narrator instinct sometimes… and that’s great, because it’s writing and expression and a sign of motivation and various good things. Then the moment withers and I’m doubting the validity of my own voice and there’s the pessimism that settles on my shoulders. Suddenly I’m sapped of my energy, both emotional and physical. This is a tough thing to shake. The onset of fatigue is powerful and stubborn as hell. Anything I want takes a backseat. Like now. Right this frigging moment. It’s barely 9pm and I’m yawning over the keyboard, entertaining ideas of getting into bed. I haven’t had a long day, I’ve had my fair share of caffeine and I’ve slept plenty the last few nights. Not enough. Not good enough. My head still wants to put the brakes on.

I’m losing tonight. I can’t just agonize the last few hours of my evening away, staying awake but staying bitterly adrift. I choose to lose against fatigue. I think you could almost call it relaxing, but it’s not what I’d rather be doing… so is it really? Anyway, switching off the world and switching on some music.

Oh yeah, and hoping to start seeing a difference over the next little bit, with the med change.