Started talk therapy on Friday. Basically rehashed everything that's ever happened in my life in about an hour and a half. Oh, and I won't be able to see the the school's nurse practitioner for meds for a month.
So Friday was gone.
Saturday all I managed to do was send some emails. I don't even remember the day, really.
Sunday I woke up in excruciating back pain (A few vertebrae were out of place. Had to pop them back in by myself. That was fun) and my knee started giving me problems that got worse and worse as the day went on. All I managed to do was read a little under 100 pages and do the laundry.
Monday I went in to a primary care physician to see if I couldn't get a patch script for xanax since I was down to ten. While I was there, I had him look at my knee. Turns out a stretched the outer ligaments, so ice and 800mg ibuprophen for a while. He also tested my thyroid (it's within normal limits, I guess) and gave me a referral to a psychiatrist to adjust my meds since he wasn't comfortable with doing it.
Yesterday, a friend needed me to help run some errands for him so I went. I came back, tried to start on the paper (that was due last Thursday but I got a week's extension on it) but could only manage to reread the story I'm supposed to write it on and highlight important info. Oh, and royally freak the f*ck out. When he called again, I begged him to go over to his place and just...be. I stayed until 2am.
Today I woke up later than I thought I would, didn't get any work done in the morning (freaking out over yet again rehashing everything), then went to another long appointment with the P the primary care doc sent me to. Rehashed everything again, this time focusing on symptoms mainly. Was told there was no way in hell I'm bipolar (duh) and reconfirmed the CPTSD diagnosis. He didn't keep me on xanax but instead sent me out with a script for Zoloft, which I guess works well for PTSD? I'm freaked out about zombification, sexual side effects, and it not really lessening the anxiety. Oh, and it'll take until I see the school's nurse practitioner to know whether it's doing any good or not. Awesome.
I asked a friend to massage my hands to calm down, picked up the script, and promptly fell the hell asleep, luckily setting my alarm for a very shitty 2 (turned into 2 1/2) hour nap.
The now-late paper is due tomorrow. It's 7-8 pages and my brain is scrambled. It's what I was supposed to be doing all weekend, had it all scheduled out. But scheduling obviously f*cking failed miserably after 3 doc appointments in six days. I'm freaked out, shivering in a 70 degree room, already smoked two cigs since I woke up, and I have no idea what the hell I'm going to write. I teach in the morning and pick up papers, which I'll need to actually, y'know, grade most of this weekend. My office hour tomorrow is pretty much booked solid, so I have to get it done tonight because there's absolutely no time before class. Oh, and there's another assignment due tomorrow that I haven't even started. I'm planning on lying my ass off and saying I left it at home so I can do it tomorrow when I get back to this godforsaken apartment.
Friday, I have to meet with my thesis advisor about my reading list and unfinished thesis.
I want to run. Get out of town and just go to the lakehouse for a few days. Forget it all. I want to hide.
I want to cut again.
All of my friends are either busy or I can't talk to them about any of this.
I'm so f*cked.
So Friday was gone.
Saturday all I managed to do was send some emails. I don't even remember the day, really.
Sunday I woke up in excruciating back pain (A few vertebrae were out of place. Had to pop them back in by myself. That was fun) and my knee started giving me problems that got worse and worse as the day went on. All I managed to do was read a little under 100 pages and do the laundry.
Monday I went in to a primary care physician to see if I couldn't get a patch script for xanax since I was down to ten. While I was there, I had him look at my knee. Turns out a stretched the outer ligaments, so ice and 800mg ibuprophen for a while. He also tested my thyroid (it's within normal limits, I guess) and gave me a referral to a psychiatrist to adjust my meds since he wasn't comfortable with doing it.
Yesterday, a friend needed me to help run some errands for him so I went. I came back, tried to start on the paper (that was due last Thursday but I got a week's extension on it) but could only manage to reread the story I'm supposed to write it on and highlight important info. Oh, and royally freak the f*ck out. When he called again, I begged him to go over to his place and just...be. I stayed until 2am.
Today I woke up later than I thought I would, didn't get any work done in the morning (freaking out over yet again rehashing everything), then went to another long appointment with the P the primary care doc sent me to. Rehashed everything again, this time focusing on symptoms mainly. Was told there was no way in hell I'm bipolar (duh) and reconfirmed the CPTSD diagnosis. He didn't keep me on xanax but instead sent me out with a script for Zoloft, which I guess works well for PTSD? I'm freaked out about zombification, sexual side effects, and it not really lessening the anxiety. Oh, and it'll take until I see the school's nurse practitioner to know whether it's doing any good or not. Awesome.
I asked a friend to massage my hands to calm down, picked up the script, and promptly fell the hell asleep, luckily setting my alarm for a very shitty 2 (turned into 2 1/2) hour nap.
The now-late paper is due tomorrow. It's 7-8 pages and my brain is scrambled. It's what I was supposed to be doing all weekend, had it all scheduled out. But scheduling obviously f*cking failed miserably after 3 doc appointments in six days. I'm freaked out, shivering in a 70 degree room, already smoked two cigs since I woke up, and I have no idea what the hell I'm going to write. I teach in the morning and pick up papers, which I'll need to actually, y'know, grade most of this weekend. My office hour tomorrow is pretty much booked solid, so I have to get it done tonight because there's absolutely no time before class. Oh, and there's another assignment due tomorrow that I haven't even started. I'm planning on lying my ass off and saying I left it at home so I can do it tomorrow when I get back to this godforsaken apartment.
Friday, I have to meet with my thesis advisor about my reading list and unfinished thesis.
I want to run. Get out of town and just go to the lakehouse for a few days. Forget it all. I want to hide.
I want to cut again.
All of my friends are either busy or I can't talk to them about any of this.
I'm so f*cked.
