It feels good to have successfully completed another day of good restriction and exercise. It's only the second day I've managed since the ever-notorious binge monster elected to take up residence within the paper-thin walls of my consciousness last week... I'm beating him. Emi Jay, we'll beat him together! ;)
Don't be fooled by the smiley emoticon and optimistic tone of my title today... I still feel utterly and entirely like dog shit. Horse shit, even. Triceratops shit? Something huge and smelly. I figured out why, though, so that's a plus. I guess. A step in the right direction, at the very least.
When I recently ran out of my Wellbutrin XL, I called the university health center and they informed me that they no longer provide that particular drug to their students, but that they'd be happy to set me up with an appointment to see my shrink again to reevaluate and see what else I could take in its place...(Have I already gone over this? I have that uncanny feeling of repeating myself right now...) Anyway, I don't want to take anything else in its place. Wellbutrin XL is the only antidepressant/antianxiety SSRI I've ever taken with consistent success. Why change it? Damn it. I'm messed up already. Don't do this to me.
Anyway, so I've been supplementing with SR instead of the XL...turns out this shit is not working...at all. It's as if I'm taking nothing at all. Wellbutrin withdrawals are pretty fucking unbearable. Explains everything. So. How and when can I fix this? Could be as late as Friday. That sucks. In the meantime, I'm crying constantly for no reason, feeling as if I'm about to explode or faint or puke at any given moment...Ugh. I hate it. BUT...at least there's 134 this morning. Yes, you were all right. Water weight and...well, the remnants of a three day stint of unrestrained eating. But yes, 134 is more than acceptable, for what I've been doing lately. And tomorrow...I'm hoping for less. Always hoping for less.
I feel like I have so much more to say and not nearly the brainpower or the time to say it. I'm expected to have an entire book on the art of the poetic line read by tomorrow at 3:30. Guess who hasn't even started it? That'd be me. And goddamn it, my throat hurts. I'm sick as shit, in every sense of the world. My throat is all raw and swollen and my poor little lymph nodes... I look like a bullfrog. Ugh.
I don't have time to write and that frustrates me. My daughter needs me and my book needs to be read and K is IMing me about the game he's building and I'm excited for him and proud of him but the apathy I'm facing at the moment due to this ridiculous chemical imbalance makes it very difficult for me to *care* about anyone or anything...
*sigh...*
I feel better for having updated, but I'm leaving now dissatisfied with this entry...feels like I accomplished nothing more than perhaps ascertaining that I am, indeed, still alive and somewhat sane... Sorry.
Love you all, thank you so much for your support and kind words.
<3
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