And So It Begins

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It's coming on already. It's not even Labor Day yet, and it's bearing down on me hard.

I've been having a hard time sleeping since I got back from Florida. I had such a fantastic time there with Kitty--despite the fact that it rained pretty much the whole time--that I think the reality of being stuck here alone in this house for another long, lonely fall and winter has hit me hard and ultimately started the inevitable wobble into crazy.

The dysphoric mania is ramping itself up. I haven't been able to do anything productive for 2 days. I didn't get to sleep until 8 am and then was up again by 3 pm. But the thought of doing anything that requires getting out of bed and/or doing something other than playing Neopets or Facebook games seems an obstacle that's absolutely insurmountable. I took my Lamictal hours ago, and my brain hasn't shut up yet. If I don't do something, the depression, caused by the days getting shorter, is sure to follow and stack on top of the mania, and it's back to mixed hell for Teh Bunneh. :(

Goddammit, why do I have to be crazy?

But there's so much that needs doing that I HAVE to pull my shit together tomorrow. But, of course, the demon is trying so hard to break my grip over him that he's telling me that I shouldn't go and take another 25 mg. of Lamictal and a sleeping pill in hopes of breaking this cycle before it gets too out of hand. I know I need to, though. I haven't gone off the deep end yet, and I would like to keep it that way. This is why I would give my right arm for PRN antipsychotics. But, alas, I can't afford a psychiatrist, and my doctor has yet to give them to me.

But lemme tell you a little something, folks: If I don't stop this runaway train soon, I'm going to be in for Fall 2010, redux.