Broken Record

I feel like a broken record. I don't feel like writing. Blah blah blah. I don't feel well. Blah blah blah. Nothing new to report. Blah. Blah. Blah.

This is being depressed. My mood is fine, it's stable. I don't feel overly sad. I'm not self harming and I don't feel suicidal. But I'm not functioning. I'm being very real here. I manage to eat. It's all frozen crap that goes from the freezer to the microwave to my mouth, but it works. Or I order a pizza and let that feed me for a week. That comes right to my door. But, I am eating. I can't remember the last time I showered. I think it was a month ago. I don't go out, and when I do I just throw on a hat. I brushed my teeth the other day and my spit was full of blood, lovely. I don't DO anything. I pass the time by sleeping, or watching wildlife documentaries on Netflix. It's something I enjoy, and that makes me feel peaceful. So there's good in that. It took me two weeks to do a little cleaning for my apartment inspection that's tomorrow. I sit up and my body literally doesn't work. So I lay back down. This is being depressed. And it sucks. I'm not being lazy. I just can't function. Not even when I want to. Something as simple as going to the store seems overwhelmingly monumenteous most of the time. I just want to cry, but I can't.

Dr. Barkin is disappointed the switch from Olanzapine to Latuda hasn't been smooth. I wish it could have been. The only good is that I lost 10 pounds in the month I've been off Olanzapine. Olanzapine is a good med, it's helpful and does a lot of good for a lot of people. But it isn't meant to be a long term drug and the side effects are horrendous. They need to get it together because the best I've felt in years was when I was on Olanzapine.

I gave up on the DVR. I got a letter in the mail with an appointment set to go over how much money I could make and still get social security. It was set for Aug 29. Over two months away at the time. By then it'd almost be a year since I started the process and that's just completely ridiculous. So I quit them. I'm not capable of working right now anyway. Maybe I was a year ago when I first applied, but I'm not anymore. It's stupid.

In an odd turn of events, I hate my CPAP machine. I can't sleep with it on. It doesn't stay sealed on my nose unless I'm on my back and I've never been a back sleeper, ever. So that's really hard. Then it's so loud when it loses that seal that it wakes me up and I struggle to go back to sleep. So I hardly use it. I sleep better on the couch these days than my bed anyway, so I'm usually not even near it. I don't know how people sleep hooked up to a machine because I am really struggling with it.

Mr. Purrington is good. He usually snuggles next to me on the couch. Like akways, he's been a life saver. Though he's got into this annoying habit of biting my feet when he's decided he's hungry. It's very annoying and I hope he quits that quirk soon.

I've been thinking a lot about Maine. I'm going to get there. My lease here is up in another year and a half, then I should have the resources to get me to Maine. I'm scared to death. It's an awful long way away if something goes wrong. But I need this dream to come true. So I'm going to enjoy Washington for the next 18 months or so, then I'm heading out. Zach and I are planning it. He's very supportive and encouraging of my dream, which is super helpful. I've wanted to live in Maine almost my whole life. And now it's so close I can feel it.

Well I'm rambling. I'm good at that. I'm going to try and shower this week, but there's no guarantee. I figure it's a worthy goal at least.

Someday I trust my life will turn around. That I'll kick depression in the ass once and for all. It's been years since I've felt really good, and I'm tired. It seems when one thing starts going right, two things go wrong. All I want right now is to be able to function. To not feel like there a ton of bricks weighing me down when I stand up. That's all.

And that isn't too much to ask, is it?