follow the white rabbit
i estimate having slept between 2 and 3 hours last night. i am not pleased.
i am afraid of myself. i feel like a volcano. or a geyser. or something else that is unpredictable and explosive.
i’m not yet familiar enough with bipolar to know how to compensate, to try and bring me back to stasis.
not that i wouldn’t mind some hypomania. it sounds awfully nice, i’ll tell ya. i could get drunk and party and have lots of sex and spend money i don’t have and do drugs and forget about all of my current and impending responsibilities. a little psychological vay-cay.
it’s the depression that will follow, however, that has me shaking in my boots. i don’t think i have another round in me to deal with it. it’s too much, too recent. i’m still reeling from the last “episode” that seemed to last FOREVER.
on top of that stress, i’ve arrived at the very dismaying realization that i am late.
i am late. for a very important date.
i have not had my visit from Aunt Flo for 42 days and counting. now, i have a long cycle but even for me that’s long. i’m hoping it’s stress.
it’s stress, right?
so, along with my psychiatrist appointment today, i’m going to get a fucking test to see if i’m prego, because i can charge it to my bursar’s account at school.
i will just shit myself, literally, if that fucker comes back positive. i paid over $400 for a 10-year IUD in 2009. it better be doing its job.