Ah shit...for everything there is an unequal and unfair reaction. Yesterday was almost OK, mostly because of intellectual curiosity about Num-lady. So today, in spite of actually accomplishing about 4 of the things on the should-have-been-done-last-month list, I'm just bottoming out again.
I lied on Sunday. I don't want to give the meds stash to p-doc. I want to just suck them down and give up on all this crap. There's just no point.
Two f-cking years. And no idea of when or why or how it ever quits. No reason for it to start. No reason for it to continue. So I guess there's no reason for it to go away again either.
P-doc's oh so cheerful lady called today, for about the first time in a month. Not bad, seeing as I'm still on his shit list that she is supposed to call most days. She asks whether the meds are working yet. I say no. She asks (bear in mind that she is calling from his waiting room, and yells at the top of her voice, so everyone there gets to listen to it all as well....) 'well, what does Dr say about this, what does he think the reason is for the drugs not working'. I can't answer that. If he knew or I knew, we'd f-cking change something, wouldn't we? Not just arse around for this long. So I said that he thinks I'm maybe not quite human. That got her in hysterics, yelling and gurgling with laughter about aliens and why didn't I paint my face green the next time I came in, ho ho ho!
Maybe she has the right idea though. She's a real git, but she manages to laugh all day. For someone who phones depressed people , she certainly doesn't let any of it get to her. Maybe that is her real function, to be a 'good example' - if only she wasn't such a pain in the neck about it.
I keep the meds in the fridge, along with all the bird drugs. Often I just hold them, feel the chill. Wish I had the balls to just do it.