The Ativan from my pcp yesterday didn’t help a bit. It took me even longer to fall asleep and then I still woke up super early, incapable of falling back to sleep. I can’t believe this. My dosage was only 1mg of the drug, so I put a call into my doctor to find out what I should do… double it tonight?
Dead girl typing.
Meanwhile, my mom is advocating I go back on Remeron. The weight gain drug. She’s like “You’ve changed your diet and started exercising more so it probably won’t affect you”… implying that I wasn’t doing those things while on Remeron. So frustrating. She clearly doesn’t believe that Remeron is actually a weight gain drug and that the fault lay with me, which is typical. I know once I explain to her how those words make me feel, she will probably back off. I know I won’t change her mind, but at least she’ll stop making those kinds of comments. Well-intentioned though they are. I know her first priority is my well-being.
And then B calls me during his coffee break like he usually does, and he’s super stressed out about all the things in our lives that are stressful. He tends to do this: he’ll be ok for a while and then one day, BOOM, he feels the weight of the world and it is insurmountable. He’s stressed about where we live (on his b***h mother’s property), school (and the lack of progress while he studies for the MCATs), money (we don’t have much), work (not always consistent when you work in the labor industry, like he does).
I can always handle my own stress. I can’t handle his. It makes me feel like I might fly into pieces, shattered on the floor like a priceless porcelain egg, and people who walk past carelessly crunch over my tiny remains, turning me to fine bone and dust.
I might need to cut tonight. First, I’ll try to talk to him about how he’s feeling and find out what we should do to mitigate it. I don’t know. I might cut at work… it would be easy enough to make an excuse for how it happened.
