she thought things were going okay.
i had a good week last week. and i don’t use the word good lightly. normally i say ‘okay’ or ‘alright’ because i’m always afraid that if i describe a week as good and actually think things might be getting better (as if) i will somehow sabotage things and crash. harder. and lo and behold, after a good week i had a really fucking bad one, and it’s only thursday.
here’s what happened:
- i found out my service dog application has been passed to the next stage and that they are able to train a dog to my specific needs, which for me was to reduce socially unacceptable stims which generally piss people off (read: knocking, clicking, impulsive laughter followed by self-shushing, shaking my head to shake away thoughts, tapping… you get the idea. not super socially acceptable) and to recognise distress and panic attacks
- i was able to see two of my friends, G and D for coffee
- i spent another day with G, and we went to the park and there were so many dogs which made me really happy – dogs!
- i started dexies (an adhd med. depending on where you are in the world this could be called aderall or ritalin or dexamphetamine) which have made my head a bit quieter. as a scientist (lol), i had to make sure it wasn’t a placebo effect and followed up my hypothesis by skipping the dose for a few days… in which my head got loud again and all the urges piled on top of me and i wanted to fucking die. seems like proof enough to me.
and here’s all the bad shit that happened:
- i found out the service dog organisation i applied to is not a charity and it costs a ridiculous amount of money to have one trained to my specific needs
- self harmed on campus. this is a big deal, since i used to sh exclusively at home. it’s part of the ritual, i suppose. but realising i can’t cope with anything anymore i’ve started carrying blades in my backpack
- overslept too many times which disrupted my time which made me anxious which made me urgey which made me cut
- my dr is disappointed in me. i am even more anaemic than usual, and my sodium is getting dangerously low. she’s threatening to admit me – FUCK that! and my doctor is great, and always finds time to see me, so i don’t like to disappoint her
- after a really bad day, which included a fight with my mum about money and tattoos and generally how shit of a daughter i am, i forced myself to stick to my schedule and go to work. i tutored twins for two hours in english which made me feel a little better until i walked home and realised the ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS I HAD JUST EARNED somehow DISAPPEARED FROM MY FUCKING POCKET. so that was the cherry on top for a really shitty, shitty day.
so that’s me. glad to have a good vent.
rosie bogs, lover of dogs.