Wow. Look at that...two posts in one week. What will people think?
Hell, nobody reads this. It really doesn't matter...
Anyway, since Monday I've had episodes on three different days, all roughly at around the same time. As I now know what it feels like as it comes on it was actually much easier to deal with. The funny (strange, not funny ha-ha) thing about these is they've all hit right around 10-10:30 AM. Weird, huh?
After the "big" episodes, I've had smaller ones throughout the day. I recognize them, but that doesn't mean I still don't think I'm going absolutely nuts. It sucks. I really hope it doesn't take the VA for-fucking-ever to get my paperwork processed, but that's what I'm expecting. The wheels of government turn slowly, and though I realize the VA isn't the government, they work with the government, and the government has absolutely zero inclination to properly take care of the veterans who served it. Which also sucks, but that's the breaks.
I'm really tired right now, but feel that I still have something to say, and I have no idea what that is. I have the Counting Crows up pretty loud right now; I still think this is the best CD to come out of the 90's. Every song is great. Not merely good, but great. And all of them are still relevant today, both in mood and sound. Nothing preachy, nothing topical. Just really damned good music.
Don't know if I said this in my Monday (Tuesday?) post, but I have definitely put off any ideas of any type of relationship with anybody. I am not right, and as such I am no good for anybody. I need to get me right before even thinking of letting anybody into my little world. Which means I'm alone for that much longer. But I'd rather be alone now and happy later than run the risk of screwing up somebody other than me.
The only thing that scares me more than mental illness is the stigma of mental illness. Once you're labeled, it becomes a lifetime label. Yes, I know that with the proper medication and therapy I will be able to overcome this or at the very least I will be able to effectively live with it. That brings me little comfort if I have to change jobs down the road and have to check some kind of box that requires me to disclose how fucked up I am. I've dealt with, albeit indirectly (as in not me but somebody close to me), the effects that a lifetime illness can have, and frankly it sucks. A lot. I really don't want to be walking through the grocery store and have a fucking freak-out session. But I know it can happen, and likely will.
Ah well, now I'm getting paranoid about shit that hasn't happened yet. Suck it up, man...you've a long way to go.
Good night...
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