June 2017 in 2010s

FRIDAY, JUNE 30, 2017
Here we go again with the cool spells. It says it’s 60° out there, but it sure felt like 50° when we were out walking.

Anyway, I’m feeling worse today than I did yesterday. Worse enough to have to take a lorazepam like I just did not too long ago.

Not liking that Tom’s on his way to work, but at least we have a 4-day weekend coming up. Really hoping I can enjoy it without feeling shitty so much of the time.

While I still agree that my problem isn’t all due to the meds, I still think most of it is. I just wonder when we’re going to get my dosage right or if I’m going to have to quit the shit altogether. He thinks it’ll take a month before I start feeling better. The question is how come it only took a total of three skips the last two times I had an anxious spell to back off the anxiety? Yet I’ve now skipped a total of five times and I’m still feeling waves of anxiety on and off.

I just wonder how many other factors are involved for sure and how long they’re going to continue to torture me. There are the meds, the perimenopause, psychological factors, what’s going on in my life, and possibly negative energy trapped in this house. Anything else I might not be thinking of?

We started a game. Well, I came up with the idea and shared it with Tom. It’s something I do when I’m alone as a means of distracting myself from focusing too much on my anxiety while I’m alone. I wrote a list of fortysomething subjects, and about a dozen names containing people I’ve met in this state, including a couple of story characters. First I use a random number generator between one and however many topics I have and match the number to the list. Then I do the same with the people who, unfortunately, are mostly doctors. The subjects range from negative to neutral to positive and can be anything from places I’ve lived to hobbies I enjoy. Yesterday, Dr. O had to “interview” me all about the tilted dump we rented in Oregon. Today, Dr. L will be interviewing me about the duplex.

Last night I dreamed I was in a hotel somewhere. I was lying on the bed on my side gazing at a tan-colored cloth wall hanging of some kind that might’ve had some decorative embroidery on it.

Then Tom was driving a car that didn’t have a steering wheel. Instead, it had long ropes that you held sort of like a horse’s reigns. I asked about some package we were expecting, and he said he would check on it. So he handed me the ropes as he got up to check in back of our longish vehicle. I had no problem steering but I realized I couldn’t reach the brake pedal from where I sat and this unnerved me.

Then I worked in a grocery store where a female manager seemed to “recruit” a certain type of young girl into what I suspected was a relationship with her in order to benefit somehow or to give the girls something they needed, probably money and other things. I don’t know if the girls were underage, but I knew that whatever they were doing was against policy. The manager was clearly abusing her position as manager. While attending my register she walked by with a girl and I boldly said, “Typical short brunette with glasses.”

Knowing exactly what I was implying, she fired me right on the spot. For a moment I was torn between trying to beg back my job with a slew of apologies and promises to keep my mouth shut in the future, and what I would tell my parents if I couldn’t save my job or decided not to bother to try to.

THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 2017
As I’ve said before, I never cared to see what my Facebook friends “like” or comment on because they’re not talking to me and therefore I don’t see why it should be any of my business. I also never liked that they could see any activity of mine that didn’t pertain to them or that I didn’t post to my wall.

But what about those who follow you around on other sites not thinking you know it until they either later decide to tell you about it or you let them know you know they’re there? Does this creep you out? Even though I’m not doing or saying anything wrong on any of these sites, it feels strange to be followed like that. Should I be flattered that some people are that interested and curious? Or should I become suspicious about the way they sometimes go about it in “secretive” ways, not realizing that some of us are more observant than they give them credit for? I just wonder why some of these people don’t speak up right away and say something like, “Hey, this seems like a really nice site. Thought I would join too.”

Makes me wonder if they’re looking for something in particular, something they might not expect to see if they didn’t think I knew they were around. Like Tammy, for example. Did she really join Prosebox because she’s suddenly oh so interested in writing? Or did she just want to see if I had anything that was visible to members only? I just think people should be given a little more privacy at times even when they’re on public sites.

Anyway, I was initially going to have the Twitter account I use as a health tracker be public, but since it is just a health tracker and not a means of socializing I figured I would go private. All I’m going to do is record how I slept and how I felt before I went to bed. Then I have the account for anything I think should be private no matter what it’s about, and then my everyday public account.

Decided not to get any more alcohol after the 4-pack of wine coolers didn’t do anything to make me feel better. All alcohol seems to do is make me drowsy. No thanks. I suffer enough fatigue at times like when I don’t sleep well. I felt mostly okay yesterday and so far today. Just a little tired because I didn’t sleep too great and my period is really heavy now. At least that much is a sign that I can’t be too low on thyroid, since low thyroid causes short, wimpy periods. Kept waking up a lot, though no traffic or nightmares woke me up.

Because Tom has now been at his job for five years, he was given a little catalog of gifts to choose from and he chose a black backpack/laptop bag that has a lot of compartments for various things.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28, 2017
Happy 60th birthday to my husband! Even though age is just a number and he’s very healthy, healthier than me despite my being fitter, there’s a sense of sadness that comes with the 34-year-old man I met in 1993 entering his 60s. Can’t help but wonder if his family is thinking of him today or even if they give a shit. Even if they can’t find the few accounts he has if they really cared there are a number of ways they could look me up. But clearly, they couldn’t care less. So I feel bad for him in that respect even though he tells me it’s no big deal at all.

I’m guessing we have another 25 years together, give or take a few years. While I know that 25 years in itself is a long time, it doesn’t seem like enough. Shit, I’m going to cry. Thank you, perimenopause, PMS, my thyroid medication and whatever the fuck else has been making me feel this way. I’ve been teetering between anxious and depressed all night long but nowhere near panicking. Still, I finally decided to take a lorazepam.

Hoping to hear from a former friend soon, even if I should give up on her like I’ve given up on the hope of myself ever getting better. Seriously, if these funky emotions extend into July it will be the longest I felt bad in a couple of years. Not hopeful at all. I mean this just isn’t a good sign. How can I tell myself things will get better and believe it if the days turn into weeks and then the weeks turn into months? I’m either going to be surprised with getting better someday (for more than just a few months), or I’m going to learn to live with it, or I’m going to do something stupid. Only time will tell which of these things happen.

Tried to create another Twitter account just to document my health and emotions, but it wouldn’t let me. I tried in two different browsers with two different email addresses.

My stomach is better, but even though my emotions are in a dark place tonight, I’m not disabled. I’m not run down or anything like that either. Therefore, I was able to carry on with my usual activities. Did some cleaning, did some Bowflex exercises, plus some other things.

Tomorrow I do my last steroid treatment, though I can tell the problem isn’t 100% gone. It’s just a lot better. I’m sure it will return to haunt me eventually like everything else does. In the meantime, I’ll send the GYN a message in a day or two and ask if she thinks I should resume treatment if it flares up again or what.

Later…

Aly tweeted that she’s “taking a break from some things to focus on other things.” What this really means is that she’s abandoning her my-diary account because I found it and she doesn’t want me messaging her there. I guess she feels it’s a lot easier to ignore me on Twitter where I can’t send more than 250 characters at a time.

I just can’t stand to visit my nieces’ Facebook profiles anymore. Every few days there’s something about their oh-so-wonderful daddy, and sadly, I don’t think my sister ever really stopped loving him. She just came to love Mark more. Even if everybody loved the guy and the guy had been perfect, I don’t think it’s helping them to dwell on him as much as they do. I can understand during the first year because that’s always the hardest, but after that, I think it would be best for them to not forget but to move on. It’s up to them, though.

Unfortunately, Tom had to spend his birthday working, but early in the morning before he took off, we went to Walgreens for some treats. Along with that, I got a box of Amberen which is said to help with both peri and menopausal symptoms. Furthermore, unlike Estroven, they say they have no side effects. Took my first dose after eating and shortly afterward I became warm and drowsy and I might have panicked had it not been for Stacey. It could have been just a coincidence. I do still feel flushed at times and sometimes I just get tired. Time will tell, but I’d rather the drowsiness than the anxiety which is sprinkled with occasional depression lately. Still worried that more of it is from my medication than the peri, but we’ll eventually find this out.

I got another period today, and I’m guessing they probably won’t stop until I’m 52-53.

Amberen says symptoms should be noticeably better in less than 30 days but to give it 90 days to really take effect. They have an email address as well as a number you can call to talk to someone about adjusting your regiment if you need to later on. It’s expensive shit at 40 bucks a month, but I’ll pay a grand a month just to keep that horrible anxiety and depression away. I’d sell everything I have and I just might even return to a horribly cold, snowy climate, that’s how awful a feeling it is. Feeling great so far. :)

I also got another “dancing flower.” One of those plastic flowers in a plastic flower pot that has a little solar panel on it. Light hitting it makes the flowers dance. Love these things! I got one at the dollar store a while back with purple flowers in a square pink “box.” The one I got last night costs $3 and has a large pink flower with two large leaves in a round red pot with white polka dots.

Finally managed to set up two additional Twitter accounts, so now I have a total of three. One has my real name and that will be for regular everyday things, but the other two are in names I randomly drew from a random name generator site. “Nora’s” will be for private things and is therefore private and will not accept any follow requests. “Chelsea” will be to document my health and emotions and I left that one public. This way things are better organized and it makes it easier to use as a reference when I want to look something up.

Had another Rosemarie dream last night. We met at some kind of function somewhere. Both of us seemed to know who the other was and we didn’t seem to harbor any hard feelings toward each other either. I’m not sure if I was alone at the function or not, but we eventually agreed that I would go with her to someplace. I offered to give her a little gas money and she declined, saying that I could just buy her something to eat instead. I said that would be no problem, not at all fearing that she might have ill intentions in mind or anything like that.

In the next part of the dream Tom, Rosemarie, someone Rosemarie knew, and myself were all at a restaurant. We sat in a booth that formed a half-moon with her and I being close to the aisle. I was looking good that night and I knew it. I wore one of my most flattering dresses that enhanced my exercise-lifted chest and slimmed my waist. My hair and makeup were done to perfection and I noticed her noticing me even though I pretended not to. During the conversation, it kept coming out that I was “smart” in various ways which I was both pleased and annoyed by. I was pleased that it seemed to impress Rosemarie, who was just as beautiful as she was years ago, but annoyed because I don’t like to let on that I know some things I know because it may be easier to use to my advantage in the future if need be. Despite feeling somewhat flattered I didn’t seem to have any desire to pursue a friendship with Rosemarie.

TUESDAY, JUNE 27, 2017
Ugh, sometimes I wonder if life really is worth it. Nothing I try seems to help. Right now I’m not sure if I feel more anxious or depressed, but whatever it is it isn’t very good. Wishing I had more of a support system but I’m also afraid to trust people. I feel so hated from above if anything’s up there.

I felt okay yesterday, but today I’m a little off, and my stomach is way off. I’m suspecting the cantaloupe I ate.

I’ve come to realize that I’m probably never going to get better, so my only two choices in life are to learn to adapt and just enjoy the good days when I have them. Or simply throw in the towel and end it all. I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m hanging on by a bare thread that’s getting thinner and thinner. I don’t want to burden others with my problems, but I sure could use some more support until this ends however it’s destined to end.

Last night I accidentally found Aly’s newest my-diary account. She’s struggling with her weight now. I sent a message of support but I’m sure I won’t get anything from her in return. I never do anymore, so why I bother is beyond me. Really need to learn to give up on those who have given up on me.

MONDAY, JUNE 26, 2017
Felt better yesterday, and so far so good today. The anxiety started to bubble up and my stomach went on the fritz, which may have been due to the fruit I ate yesterday, but after a few pieces of tryptophan-laden Turkey and a few swallows of wine, followed by a 10-minute walk, I felt better. I even managed to kick the same pinecone all the way down the street, LOL.

Not really sure the alcohol helps, though, so I probably won’t get it again. I only drank in Hawaii because the drinks were free. Otherwise, I’ve never found pleasure in drinking like many people do.

Hopefully, my “bipolar” hormones will give me a break for a while. On top of perimenopause and a medication that’s not at all anxiety-friendly (though I skipped today), I’ve definitely got my PMS on.

I’ll totally slap the crap out of the next person that calls someone a “wimp” or “coward” for committing suicide. I may not feel like ending it all at the moment, but I can totally see how some people do this simply to end their pain. Is it really cowardly to want to end your suffering be it physically or emotionally? Especially when it’s more than obvious that no matter how many times you see the doctor, they’re not going to do you much good, and your options are limited due to side effects and other things. I’d love to take BC, for example, but can’t cuz of my fucking cholesterol. It seems, however, that people are always quick to judge unless they know firsthand what it’s like. The way Andy said he didn’t feel bad for Robin Williams for “choosing” to throw it all away when he had it all was both shocking and sad. I was surprised that he of all people would be that ignorant and stupid. Common sense should tell a person that no one kills themselves because they’re tired of having it all. He had Parkinson’s disease, and that and his medication made him depressed. If we were still friends he would defend himself by saying that was simply his opinion. Yeah, but there’s a difference between having an opinion and being incorrect. To say I look good or bad with long hair is an opinion. To say I’m tall is an incorrect statement.

I’m just going through a natural part of life and I have to wait it out, hope it ends soon enough, and that nothing else “broke” in my brain a few years ago. I’ve had so many tests done, though. It’s GOT to be the peri, and again, certain meds can fuel the effects.

Right now I’m not feeling much of anything. I’m not anxious, calm or depressed. As I told Tammy, I still get a lot more anxious than depressed. If I get depressed it’s usually only because I got anxious.

I know it’s important to stay positive but the longer this goes on the harder it is to tell myself that everything is going to be okay and that my hormones will eventually stabilize. Until I’ve gone half a year without anxiety, I don’t want to get my hopes up too high.

I wonder if it’s worth picking up a bottle of that Evening Primrose Stacey said she takes. It’s just that with my shit luck I’d have side effects. I also don’t want to do anything that could risk throwing my sleep off again. It’s actually been way better lately. Not sure why it’s been better, but I’d like it to stay that way. I don’t even have hot flashes as much as I used to. Right now it’s just the “stabbers” that are my problem where I’ll feel random stabs of anxiety come and go in waves in the center of my chest. Occasionally this will morph into depression depending on how long it went on. I admit that sometimes I let it get bad because I hesitate to run for the lorazepam every time I start feeling a little off as I don’t want to get dependent on it. It doesn’t work as well as it used to, anyway.

Really hope I stop being stabbed real soon because if it goes on into July, it’ll be the longest stabbing period out of the 3 times this has happened. Not really sure if the butterflies are the same thing. I mean the effects are similar; it’s just that that was a few inches lower, more toward my stomach/solar plexus area. This is in my chest, right smack in the center of my boobs. But yeah, if it’s the same thing, this makes more like the 6th attack. I don’t remember skipping meds during the butterfly times, though.

I may not be very strong emotionally, but damn am I strong physically. For a minute I worried that my steroid treatments were giving me “fake” muscle just like levothyroxine can give me “fake” fear, but Tom doesn’t think I’m absorbing nearly enough for it to do that, and my last treatment is in a few days. I would have thought that after all this time Bowflexing I’m pretty much as strong as I’m going to get, but nope. Gotta up my weights on some exercises.

Early in the morning, I ordered a really neat desk lamp that I got a few hours ago. The top part has three levels of lighting, and the color of the base can be adjusted.

Thursday I’ve got Brown Sugar Crumble Donut K-cups coming. I only let myself have one cup of caffeinated coffee a day. I make a point of avoiding things that are bad for anxiety… caffeine, sugar, canned soup, whole wheat bread, etc. Foods good for anxiety are turkey, spinach, blueberries, milk, almonds, avocados, asparagus and other things.

Started watching The Fall and it’s pretty good so far. It’s filmed in Belfast and one of the things I like about European movies and shows as opposed to American ones is that they don’t have so much music blasting in the background. This makes it harder to hear the people talking. Besides, we’re supposed to be watching TV, not listening to music.

Got a basic plot figured out for my CampNaNo project, so I have that to look forward to in a few days. I was going to set my word count at 10K, but I can do that easily. Maybe I’ll bump it up to 25K. We writers can easily tap out 1000-5000 words a day.

Oh fuck. Not again with the firecrackers 8 days in advance! Why can’t Independence Day be in the winter when it’s too cold to be out doing this shit? I swear people will do anything to get attention and make a show of themselves.

In my dreams last night, a young Justin Bieber was annoying the shit out of me on a bus with a bright flashlight he was shining in my eyes.

Then I went to see Alyssa. I was lying on the exam table when she asked if there was anything else I needed before she left the room. I asked her to go down on me and she did.

So the reason Aly wants to come to the San Francisco area is for a BDSM event, not to live.

SUNDAY, JUNE 25, 2017
Although I’m feeling a little better today, I’m still spending more time than I’d like struggling to get my emotions to match my life. I totally get it now. All those people who seemed to have it all that would act so miserable, and that I was quick to write off as spoiled, ungrateful little drama queens/kings who simply couldn’t be satisfied. But now I know that sometimes our hormones simply don’t give a shit about what’s going on in our lives. I may have a bit of a stagnant life at times, but I otherwise have a very good life many may envy. Yet I have felt nearly every negative emotion known to humankind for most of the month of June. So much for being my favorite month of the year. Never would I have thought that my own mind and body could turn on me like this and drive me absolutely batshit crazy. What’s a little scary is that now I’m getting depressed more often on top of anxiety. I’m PMSing now too, but it remains to be seen if I get a period to go with this PMS. I’m sure I will, I just wasn’t counting on that until August.

Many times last night my mind visited the thought of downing my entire bottle of lorazepam, but fear of it not killing me and the thought of letting others down stopped me. I realize, though, that there are only so many more years I can consider others and put them before myself. The not knowing exactly what’s causing what and for how long it will go on is what makes it so hard. If there is something out there cursing me, then if I kill myself I would no longer be at its mercy, right? But then I can’t know if I might be at something else’s mercy in the afterlife if one exists. I kind of feel like I’m in a no-win situation and that this is one particular battle I’m destined to eventually lose as it continues to tear me down and break my spirit. Nothing has been able to help me long-term yet, so maybe I’m simply not meant to be helped. Maybe if there is a God, this is what it wants. It wants to slowly torture me until I end up throwing in the towel and ending it all.

With the exception of Tom, who I never would’ve gotten nearly this far without, I feel so alone and abandoned. I mean just look at my online life now compared to a couple of years ago. Many of the people I was associating with and that was following me weren’t good, and I may have been the one to cut ties with some of them, but they were there. I’m not saying that bad friendships are better than no friendships, but I don’t have Kim and Molly’s shit to look forward to getting up and seeing what they’d been up to while I slept. Aly, Andy, Kathy, Nane and Maliheh… they’re all history. Again, perhaps it’s for the best, but having just a small handful of acquaintances isn’t the same. Still have mixed emotions about Tammy being so far away, too.

Our top two guesses for what I’m going through are still a combination of my medication and perimenopause, though we cleansed the house with sage early in the morning just in case. Still don’t know if I believe in spirits or demons, but maybe negative energy that’s accumulated over time has a part in things. The people that had to leave this place before didn’t leave because they wanted to, but because they got old. That right there could leave behind some negative energy, even if it might have taken a year for it to catch up to me. So while I still say God is just a coping method people created to help them get through life (along with a weapon to threaten and control others) and spirits of loved ones are just their way of being unable to let go, I admit that without scientific proof or any first-hand experience with these things, I can’t rule out any possibility. I’m willing to try almost anything once.

I read an article on the telltale signs of if you’ve got spirits, demons or negative energy in your home, and I must admit that some of them struck an uncanny sense of familiarity. Like the times I’ve woken up feeling almost like I couldn’t get enough air yet my lungs didn’t feel congested or blocked in any way. Nor do I have sleep apnea.

Then there are certain sounds I’ve heard around the house, thinking Tom is getting up or walking up behind me I wrote off to the house simply settling. I know no one actually died in the house, but I suppose negative energy is still possible.

Speaking of negative, I’ve been trying to get out of the habit of telling myself things like, “You’ll never handle this,” “You could never make it through that,” “You’re not strong enough to do this,” etc. I realized that the more I tell myself these things, the more I’m likely to believe them, thus making them true. The only positive thing I feel I can say right now, though, is that I’ve been sleeping better. I’m just trying to keep busy and not spend as much time alone. The latter is a little easier said than done, however, when you don’t drive and you have CRD.

I’m also afraid to trust people because I have been burned so many times in life. I’ve reached out to people who have actually welcomed and encouraged me to do so, only to later be accused of simply “wanting attention,” so that’s part of why I tend to keep anything negative to myself. I figure why depress or worry others along with me? Besides, it’s no one else’s business. Either way, so many people can start off seeming so wonderful, so real, so honest, so compassionate, so loyal… and then one day they’re gone. Sometimes they’ll tell you why they’re abandoning you, and sometimes they’ll just silently slip away without explanation. Sometimes a part of me deserved it as I can’t always be perfect myself, but other times I have been nothing but good and supportive and honest to certain people just to find that it didn’t mean shit in the end, and to end up cast aside like yesterday’s trash.

I drank for the first time in 3.5 years last night, but it didn’t do me any good. It was just a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler. So much for drinking my anxiety away like I’ve heard some people do. But then their anxiety may be generalized anxiety or social anxiety while mine is physiological. Perhaps it’s for the better that it didn’t help. No point in trading in one problem for another.

Tom believes that of all the different things we’re doing to help me feel better the cleansing will help, and my body will settle into the new medication dose in about a week. As for the cleansing ritual, he was pointing out that if something is widely used it’s usually for a reason. So I guess time will tell if it helps or if they’re all just crazy and delusional.

Decided to give the clonidine another try so we picked up a refill. Don’t know that I’ll ever really use it, but it’s here if I change my mind.

We signed up for a 30-day trial of Office 365 Home. The only thing I don’t like about it so far is that I have to re-record my macros that automatically insert dates and times, and it wants to put a space between the first character of each paragraph. It has a mail program that Tom likes, and a lot more cloud storage than Amazon.

He put oil in the car, air in the tires, and trimmed some trees.

We went on a quick walk late last night and checked out the notice in the door of the house diagonally in back. It was abandoned as we figured it was, probably by someone who didn’t have kids to take care of cleaning the house out and putting it on the market. There was still some stuff inside the house. Anyway, that was their second of three notices. Their space rent is lower than ours but then the woman was there a lot longer than we’ve been here. Yeah, 4 years here and 3 years as a madwoman whose life as she’d mostly known it to be seems forever lost.

I had a couple of dreams in which I was living in a rural setting. Jesse lived a few hundred feet away. In the distance, I could see men, some white and some black, milling about his place in tuxes.

A split second later an attractive black woman was in our house. Tom wasn’t home at the time. The woman told me she and Jesse just got married, and that someone had complained about their dogs. I worried they would think it was us when it wasn’t.

But then the black woman became a Latina woman with friends and family scattered about the house. Most of them were in their 20s and I didn’t know a soul. Latino Music was playing that they probably didn’t know I could understand, and I was worried they would steal things.

Then I was cleaning a guinea pig’s glass aquarium, and then we lived in another place that had a long straight black driveway flanked by recently mowed lawns. Two old cars were parked to one side where we were keeping a couple of rabbits. I went to refill their water bottle which was outside the cars, making me wonder how they could drink it. Then I was worried I’d been neglecting them by underfeeding them and not giving them enough attention, so I ran into the house to fetch some carrots.

So how did Aly go from looking for someone near San Francisco to moving in with “Master J” as his sex slave which she’s revisiting The Rules on? I question his sanity too, knowing how drawn she is to the mentally fucked in the head.

SATURDAY, JUNE 24, 2017
The anxiety started to slowly creep up to the surface, but then it dropped way down below where I like it. Again I was looking at foods that are both good and bad for anxiety. I was surprised when I read that whole wheat bread as well as canned soup isn’t good. Same goes for artificial sweeteners. The problem is that foods are so contradictory that it gets confusing. Something can be good for you in one way but bad for you in another.

I’ve been doing my best to distract myself. Only thing is that writing, coloring and language lessons don’t quite distract me as well as walking through stores, swimming, or even going to an appointment. While I have been spending too much time alone, which isn’t good for me, as Stacey said, it still has a way of making me wonder if it’s something connected to this house as unhaunted as it may seem. I don’t think this weekend would be good for the cleansing sage, which smells like shit even when it’s not burning. I’m not going to be up late enough in the morning.

I’m also trying not to think of my worst fear in life… hitting menopause just to continue to have these anxious feelings every now and then, which can morph into depression. What if I was handed a life sentence of anxiety three years ago? Every time we’re sure it’s gone for good, we’re wrong. So how can we be so sure this will one day end?

FRIDAY, JUNE 23, 2017
As far as the legalized discrimination that has been allowed in four different states simply because they believe that they’re fictitious God sees gays as evil sinners, I realize yet again what a truly sick and twisted world we live in. So let me get this straight (pardon the pun), it’s perfectly okay to discriminate against those who only seek equality, but we’re supposed to be totally okay with those who have proven time and time again to be a danger to society with their bombs, machetes, their “honor” deaths, and even their vehicles?

So what if many black people are playing the race card and ruining lives more and more these days and resorting to rioting when they don’t get their way? And so what if so many Mexicans want to invade our country illegally, bring their guns and drugs with them, then jump on welfare and burden our resources?

No matter what you do, as long as you’re not attracted to the same sex then you’re all fucking wonderful. Right?

Later…

Always open to possible home jobs, I wonder why there aren’t more jobs helping the police catch online child pervies or something like that. But I guess certain things border too close to entrapment, and well, I’m not keen on the idea of helping or supporting the police anyway. Not with the way so many of them use and abuse the law. In many ways, they can be just as shady as drug dealers.

Stopped at Goodwill after he got off work. It was surprisingly busy and we found nothing of interest.

We stopped at Raley’s for a few things, and I also got some wine coolers for when the anxiety hits. I’m fine so far today but yesterday it got bad again. I didn’t take anything for it, though.

I am so, so disappointed and so afraid that I’m never going to get better. What if A is right? What if it’s not the meds at all? But then again… if just three skips can kick me up to 16, can three doses push me back down around 7? I just don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is that I’m seriously considering ending it all at times. I can’t continue to live with this endless torture where sometimes I’m fine and other days I feel like shit. What if it’s got nothing to do with the meds or peri? What if I simply broke somehow and I can’t be put back together? God, I miss my old self! Any part of my old self from any part of my old life… New England, Phoenix, Oregon, the trailer… but that person who didn’t know this feeling is never coming back.

I haven’t been lightheaded since being up, but I went head rushing in my sleep again, so Tom threw peroxide and alcohol in it. I was getting up to pee when I felt it. I did Tom’s ear for him as well because he’s got swimmer’s ear.

THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 2017
Unfortunately, I haven’t been doing a very good job of not reading Aly’s tweets. She asked anyone near San Francisco who loves cats and needs a roommate to let her know. Where did that come from all of a sudden? Why would she want to come out here and how could she afford it?

Went swimming in the 110° heat. The people here may not be mean but they sure aren’t usually very friendly either. I guess it’s a Cali thing, as Tom says. I said hello to a woman I’d seen at the pool before and she barely acknowledged me. I also wouldn’t want someone talking my ear off nonstop either, but big cities sure don’t compare to small towns. Everyone was so friendly up in Klamath Falls. Tom and I miss many aspects of the town; just not the arctic climate.

Been feeling and sleeping okay. Sometimes the anxiety is lurking below the surface and I worry that it’s going to come to a head, but it hasn’t. I don’t expect the weekly skips to make me perfect anyway since that wasn’t the only thing causing my anxiety. It’s just that I can’t “skip” perimenopause once a week as well. Sure wish I could, though!

Not sure if I’m going to Camp Nano in July. I have a couple of ideas but nothing too exciting.

I had a dream I was on some kind of train, but instead of the usual rows of seats, there were these lounges in which the backs were up against the sides of the train. That was where you would sit, eat and sleep until you got to your destination.

Then I was in Germany hugging someone goodbye. Next, I was approached by what might have been a cyber friend of mine living in Austria. I opened my mouth to speak, but all of a sudden I couldn’t remember a word in German. She then surprised me by speaking English, saying she had been taking classes.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 21, 2017
Thanks, California, for spending 50 million dollars to ensure our illegals/immigrants continue to get their freebies while those of us who are from here struggle to pay for healthcare and so much more.

That’s what my lovely state is up to. Me… I’m going to my doctor in a couple of hours for what I hope isn’t my newest problem since I seriously can’t seem to catch a break. For many years I’ve had issues with my white blood cell count being a little elevated but this appears to be normal for me. But now my red blood cell count is slightly elevated too, so I guess that’s just one more thing I have to deal with. I don’t think it’s any big deal, though. She’ll probably just tell me something like to avoid iron supplements, which I don’t bother to take anyway. I guess iron supplements can generate more red blood cells. They can also block thyroid production along with calcium.

I guess there are a few underlying causes with varying prognoses. I found that I have some symptoms of some of the causes, but then most of us have some symptoms of just about everything anyway. Still makes me wonder about those head rushes, fatigue and shit like that which I always wrote off as perimenopause.

Trying not to worry about it, and remind myself that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, which includes making yet even more appointments. I just want a break until my September dentist appointment and without any anxiety!

The interesting part of the results which were posted at 10:30 last night was that my cholesterol has actually improved. Improved! How did I manage that when I’ve eaten more meat lately and have been lazier due to the heat? It’s like I barely work out anymore. I was getting discouraged because I knew I couldn’t stick to it since I don’t feel all that great so much of the time.

Definitely taking Tom in with me to the appointment this time around.

Later…

My appointment with Dr. A went well. She understands that she can’t make me take the medication as recommended and that if I believe it’s the cause of some of my anxiety, as I do, then I gotta do what I gotta do to feel better. Besides, it’s not like I’m putting myself in danger. As I told her, if I’d gotten to the lab just one week earlier, I’d have given her good numbers. I skipped on the 9th, 13th and 19th, then again on Monday. From now on I will be skipping on Mondays BEFORE the anxiety has a chance to ramp up due to accumulation, and if that doesn’t alleviate the anxiety as Tom and I think it will, then we’ll reevaluate and try something else. It’s probably a combination of the ADD, high HR and perimenopause that makes me so sensitive to levothyroxine, but as we discussed, maybe I can take it regularly after the perimenopause is at least eliminated from the equation. But even though I felt relatively calm, my HR was clocked at 100. BP was pretty good, though. Weight’s the same. I can eat all I want as long as I keep active and don’t eat for pleasure. Only when I’m hungry.

I can pull my TSH back down a little more without becoming anxious, though. That’s no problem, as I also told her. It doesn’t need to be as high as 16 to feel better. I just didn’t know it would jump that fast from just a few skips – oops. But I can get it down to about an 8. Anything lower and the anxiety bites. It is the most god-awful thing I ever experienced. No life situation or other medication has ever made me feel that bad. I’m probably already back down to 12, now that I’m getting a better idea of how the doses and numbers work. Doc O said it’s best to keep it under 10. I’ll get there.

Even though I figured it was no big deal that my red and white blood cell count numbers were slightly elevated, a small part of me was like, oh no, please don’t tell me I have a whole new medical problem on my hands. But she’s not worried about it. She’s just going to keep a watch on that as well as my thyroid. Again, I’m not surprised. My dreams would have warned me if there was trouble ahead.

I’m still amazed that my lipid panel was actually better. She said it’s improved but still not at their goal, and that if I ever want to try medication, let her know. LOL, no chance, lady. No one who’s ever been medically traumatized is ever going to wake up one day wanting more medication.

It’s now been about one year since I was EMDR’d. I haven’t had any panic attacks since, though I sure have come close a few times.

So back to the lab in September and December but I don’t need to see her until December. In fact, I’ll be seeing her on my 52nd birthday at 8 AM. Tom’s going to take that day off and then we’ll make a day of it doing whatever after what I hope is a quick visit.

I showed her the mild rash I have under my arms and she recommended hydrocortisone twice a day. I wasn’t sure what to treat it with so it’s nice to know that now. Most of the time I don’t notice it, though. It’s pretty mild.

Things are otherwise continuing to go well. I was counting a lot of cash in my handbag, looked at him and said, “Wow, who would’ve ever thought there would come a day when I pulled out all this money from my purse that I totally forgot I had?”

It’s mostly for anything urgent that may arise since we do most of our shopping online or with debit and credit cards.

We stopped at Raley’s on the way home for some cooked food and treated ourselves to ice cream as well. These triple-digit temps are perfect for ice cream.

So now that I got my appointment out of the way and don’t have anything until my September dental appointment, and now that my TSH isn’t under 8, I’m feeling great both emotionally and physically. Wish I could always feel this way! I want to go out for a run being so full of energy, but there’s no way I’m running in this heat. Once my schedule rolls forward a bit more I can be out real late when it’s cooler. So while I’d choose to always be on days if it were up to me, CRD does have its advantages.

That loud car is coming and going. I thought I saw a moving truck there when we were heading toward the back gate, but it could’ve been people moving into the house next to them. I can’t wait for these people to move. I just hope to hell whoever moves into the four houses that are for sale on the circle doesn’t have such insanely loud vehicles.

The house diagonally from us in back appears to have been abandoned. There’s a notice in the window of the door leading to the carport. I guess they’ve got so much time before they can sell it.

TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 2017
Argh!!! The medical drama never ends. When my numbers still weren’t posted last night, I figured they had to be bad and that I was going to get a call about it. Well, I did. My TSH was 16. I was surprised. I expected 10-12. I just didn’t think three skips would jump me that much.

So now Dr. A wants to see me tomorrow. I explained to the medical assistant that I didn’t drive and that my husband couldn’t just randomly take time off from work, especially if it wasn’t an emergency. But then I called back and said that if she had anything from 4 o’clock on I could do that because then he doesn’t have to miss any work. She said she didn’t have anything at that time, was probably at lunch, and that she would have her call me back.

My kidney and liver function is fine, and while I know my cholesterol is high, I don’t know if it’s any worse. I did explain to the MA why my TSH was up. I don’t expect Dr. A to believe the medication has a role in the anxiety, but it’s obvious enough to me that I wouldn’t have one day become this way so late in life without it being chemically induced. The numbers could say 1000 for all I care if they’re going to make me feel better.

The fact that just a few skips can jump the numbers that much, and just a few skips can go a long way to making me feel better, proves to me even more that the problem is the medication. The thing is that the last time I skipped it was after labs and not before, so it didn’t reflect in my numbers.

With nothing life-threatening, I don’t see why we can’t keep our July 19 appointment. I still want to address my little pit rash.

I’m just so sick of this shit. Just so, so fed up with it in general. The doctors, the appointments… all of it. I’m sorry I ever went to the doctor in January 2014 after a decade of doing just fine without them.

MONDAY, JUNE 19, 2017
So yesterday I spent the day lightheaded, more so in the beginning of my day than in the end. I became on edge towards the middle of the day, but it dissipated after he went to bed. LOL, go figure. Like I said, fear has no logic.

Skipped my meds today when I got up an hour ago. So far I feel okay. Just a little warm. I’m not exactly calm but I’m not far from it either.

My numbers haven’t been posted yet but I’m sure that as far as they’re concerned they’re absolutely horrible. Or close enough to it, anyway. I’m probably going to get a call about it first.

I’m reminding myself over and over not to get worked up over whatever they are. I’m not a child. They’re not my parents. And no one can make me do anything I don’t want to do.

I wonder why it is that when I use speech-to-text online, the words appear on the screen as fast as I speak them. But when I’m working in Word it sometimes prints slower than I can type.

Yesterday I had a good blood pressure reading and didn’t take it again after that. I wanted to keep those good numbers the last numbers I saw, haha.

It’s extremely hot and dry and very desert-like out there. We hit the pool yesterday, and sure enough, there were kids that weren’t supposed to be there. Two of them left as soon as we got there, but the other one might have been older than she looked. I didn’t stop and study her but she might have been in her teens. She was civilized, though, whatever she was.

We figured they were there because we went close to when they’re not supposed to be there. I think they bring their kids and if no one says anything when it starts to creep past 1 o’clock, they say what the hell and just stay there.

Today we’re going to go when he gets home from work, so hopefully there won’t be any then. If there is I’m definitely going to email the office and suggest they post a more ‘in your face’ sign about them not being permitted after 1 o’clock.

I’ve become more heat sensitive and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m older, fatter, going through perimenopause, or not as used to it since the winters are long here. It’s probably all of the above. Just walking from the car and alongside the pool to the steps leading into the pool made me feel like I was roasting and I could feel my heart start to beat a little harder. Once I hit the water, though, I was fine. It felt sooo good! It was the perfect temperature.

We definitely toughen up in some ways and become wimps in other ways as we age. When we first parked our old RV on the land in Oregon, the damn thing could get up into the 90s while he was out looking for work and the generator was off, and I remember how horribly uncomfortable I was. But that’s just the thing… I was uncomfortable. Now I would be scared and I might even end up panicking.

Yes, trauma/PTSD can definitely strengthen you as well as weaken you. It makes certain things that once seemed like such a big deal and even scary seem like nothing. But then there are things you look back on that you once did and you know you could never do them again. Sometimes I wonder what the hell we were thinking back then. Maybe I was a little too brave in some ways. A bear could have fought its way into the RV and eaten me alive. A big cat could’ve jumped me before I even knew what hit me when I was outside the RV. A forest fire could’ve ravaged those dry woods in no time, leaving me with nowhere to run. Hunters could’ve spotted me during those one or two times a vehicle would actually go down Boar Lane and decided it would be so much more fun to rape and kill me as opposed to killing deer, elk and moose. I had absolutely no means of calling for help, and so what if I did? No one could have gotten to me for the better part of an hour anyway.

Yeah, what were we thinking? LOL

So now I’m just a woman in her 50s left with a stockpile of “adventurous” memories that probably bordered on dangerous, and who’s a lot more chickenshit than she used to be. She’s smarter, but she’s no longer as brave. There’s no way in hell Tom or myself would let me be all alone in the wilderness with no one around for miles and no means of communication.

Unlike me, Tom is a native of the Sonoran Desert. In his younger days, he would run for miles during the intense heat, loving to sweat because of the cleansing sensation it gave him. He was going to ride his bike when it was really hot yesterday for the same effect till he ended up doing something else.

Okay, I get that you rid your body of toxins through your pores and all that, but I hate that yucky sweaty feeling!

He’s lost a lot of weight over the last few months.

SUNDAY, JUNE 18, 2017
My parents just had to penetrate my dreams last night. Ok, can I please go a month – just one month – without reminders of anyone who ever said mean, evil things to me? Who laid a hand on me? Who allowed others to verbally, emotionally and even physically abuse me? Who threw me away in a time of need instead of offering support and being there for me? Every shitty relative, every shitty ex, every shitty fuck buddy, every shitty ex-friend, every shitty ex-neighbor and well, every shitty everything.

At least they are only in dreams and not reality, though there are a few scattered positive memories, however few and far between they may be. Like the time dad drove up from Florida to visit when I was still living in the northeast, and I was telling him about my voice lessons as we got into his car. Before he put the key into the ignition, he put it in front of his face and went “Aaaahhhhh… See, I’m singing on key.”

That one was funny. I’ll give him that much. But still, he allowed for so much grief in my life and I believe that biology should never be a ticket to being excused from such behavior. I wouldn’t tolerate, worship, respect or care about someone treating me poorly who wasn’t related to me, and I never saw why I should make exceptions for those who are.

Nonetheless, I was living with my parents in the dream and attending some school while working as well. I woke up to find it was after 10am and realized I’d missed class and some work. My parents were out and I knew they would be all day. I figured they’d never know as long as I didn’t mention it.

Then I took a shower and greeted my dad in the kitchen at the end of the day as he was rummaging through the refrigerator, and decided to tell him I was “bad” for oversleeping. In a hushed tone, I told him I hadn’t told mom. He just kinda went, “M-hm,” in acknowledgment.

Now can we please stop the parent reminders till at least the fall?

The dreams turned funny when my dear sis, who’s always there for me when the levothyroxine becomes evilthyroxine, even if there’s nothing she can do about it but listen to me whine, wanted to break into the house down the street.

We were living in the house I grew up in and we’d both been drinking every day. Not something either of us would do. That wine that went to hell yesterday would’ve been my first taste of alcohol since our Maui vacation 3.5 years ago. But we drank like fish in the dream and ran out one day. UPS was to deliver a huge case of wine for us that day. She came to my room and said she ran out and asked if I had any to hold her over till the delivery.

I said, “You’ve really gotten to like that stuff, huh? I like it, too.” But when I double-checked my closet floor, I found that I was out of wine as well.

Then she told me she wanted to break into the house down the street, pawn some valuables to buy wine till UPS arrived, then buy back their stuff and replace it before they could discover it was missing.

LOL

Back on with my busy weekend!

Later…

We went to Walmart for a few things, and one of the things I got was a purple furry round saucer chair in which my small infant boy doll fits perfectly.

Tammy and others have suggested that some of my anxiety could also be due to my thyroid. But then why didn’t I have anxiety to this degree before it was treated? I still think the main culprit is the meds. It better be. If skipping once a week doesn’t help then what will? After trying so many things just to be plagued with this shit on and off for three years, I’m afraid to get my hopes up. I said to Tom a while back, “Watch, as soon as you retire this will go away.”

But it’s been going on for three years and there’s no reason to assume it will be gone in six. Like I said, I’m very hesitant to get my hopes up. The meds make perfect sense, but even the most sensible solutions can turn out to be worthless.

I’ve been doing a lot of comparing lately between my old life and my current one, even though it’s probably not helping me to do so. But I think of different rough patches in my life that I’ve gone through and how they seem so much easier in many ways than this shit. I was so much braver, too. The trauma I’ve gone through has had a way of making some things seem less scary, like being broke, but it’s also made things scarier. I can’t even get a cold anymore without worrying that something serious could be wrong.

If there is a God up there who picks and chooses what happens to us, why did He have to add insult to injury so many times?

He let the freeloaders torture us when they lived with us. Did He have to let them throw me in jail too, for having something to say about it?

He’s made me the lightest sleeper on earth. Did He have to go and CRD me as well?

For the better or not, given how I later changed my mind, He took away my right to have a child. Did he have to curse me sexually, too?

He let us be poor no matter how hard we tried to get ahead, but did He have to have us lose our house in Maricopa and then our land in Oregon, even if it turned out for the best due to the Mexican drug cartel and the climate?

I could go on and on with these kinds of examples, but I won’t. I just sometimes feel so hated from above despite how many good things I have going for me.

My head didn’t vibrate today that much, the neck knockers were minimal, but I did have some lightheadedness. It was worse toward the beginning of my day. My anxiety started to creep a little too close to the border, but I’m hoping that was simply because the weekend was nearing its end. The big question is how I’m going to feel tomorrow, especially while he’s gone. I should sleep through some of his time out, but I think when I wake up it will still be a good six or so hours before he gets home.

How I miss the days of looking forward to my solitude! I used to love being alone. Anything I could do to avoid people, I usually would. I even remember when Lori and Lisa stayed with us for a while, and I kept asking when they were leaving. Even though I denied it, they caught on and kept accusing me of wanting to get rid of them. It was true. I did want to get rid of them. I wanted my toys all to myself, and I wanted my free time all to myself, right along with the playground in my mind I called my imagination. That was the life. The freedom to do, think and create without any human distractions.

Then I think back to the time I was in jail, always relishing any moment that I had a cell to myself with few exceptions like Rosa, Misha and Mary. While the last thing I would want would be to spend time with the shittier cellies I had, I would probably be just the opposite now and prefer to have a celly rather than be alone if I were like I’ve become back then.

I hate that I’ve become not so much a people person but one who doesn’t like to be alone as much. As some would say, though, just accept myself as I am.

Hard to believe I was bitching about our seemingly endless winter just last weekend and wished I’d worn my hoodie when we went out in the morning.

SATURDAY, JUNE 17, 2017
Tom said to ask my fellow PBers if making a mess is always fun, even if you don’t like cleaning up. I had gotten a cheap bottle of wine to take the edge off my anxiety (but now that I’m skipping my medication once a week I shouldn’t need it) and didn’t realize the stupid bottle was corked and didn’t have a regular cap. Not having anything to open it with, he made a mess gouging the cork with a large screw and a knife, eventually having to push the cork into the bottle. Damn shit splattered all over the sink and counter and parts of the floor. Plus he had bits of cork scattered about. He thought it was absolutely hilarious. I personally never found the thrill in making a mess OR cleaning it up. rolls eyes

At least he saved my tweezers. I ordered new tweezers and these multicolored chalk combs that you brush through your hair to add streaks of color. Because my hair is so dark right now, I added a few scattered and subtle streaks of royal blue and it looks really good… even at my age. It’s a bit messy and not something I’ll do regularly, but as long as you don’t run your fingers through your hair, you won’t get chalk residue on your hands. But it washes right out so you’re not stuck with it for months.

Not realizing that the tweezers came in the same envelope as the chalk combs, I threw them in the recycle bin. He was able to reach in and pull them out when I realized I never received any tweezers yesterday.

Finally got to the lab this morning after two botched attempts when they suddenly changed hours and then things came up at work. They were surprisingly dead and I was in and out rather quickly. They took three vials for a full workup. Thyroid, lipid, and electrolytes.

He thinks it’s stress, but I’m starting to wonder if some of my lightheadedness, fatigue and that strange vibration in my head could actually be due to high blood pressure rather than perimenopause. We’ve been testing my BP regularly and it’s almost always too high. So is that going to be my next medical curse? God, I hope not! I’ve had enough. I never would’ve had a go through all this anxiety, the shrinks, the therapists, the trauma and the psych meds in the first place had I just not gotten too much thyroid medication at the times I did. I understand that sometimes you can’t know how things are going to affect you beforehand, but it not only pisses me off that my first two doctors refused to acknowledge the problem (though one of them finally admitted it was a factor), but now my current PCP doesn’t think any of the anxiety is coming from the medication either. Well, she’s dead wrong. I know my body and I know that I’ve never had these problems until I started this shit, and I know that when my numbers get to a certain level I start having trouble. No amount of schooling they could possibly have can enable them to know my body as well as I do and what’s normal for me and what’s not.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I was determined to end this vicious cycle after 3 years. I was also wrong in thinking the last time I had anxiety was in January, according to past entries. I had some trouble in March too, where I had to do some skips; just not as much trouble as I had in December.

Since skipping a few times, the anxiety has backed off. It’s a strong drug, so it only takes minor adjustments to get me comfortable. If I kept taking the medication regularly, though, I’d be in trouble again in August or September. But no matter what the numbers say and what the doctors want, I’m going to be smart about it this time and not let it happen again in the first place, and that means skipping once a week to every 10 days. If I can make it the rest of the year without anxiety, then yeah, I really do know a thing or two about my own damn body. :-) I think my doctor will understand in time if not right away, but again, it doesn’t matter. She works for me. I can see her having a problem if I said I wanted to quit the stuff altogether, but there’s no need to go to such extremes. This dose is only a wee bit too high for me. The random bouts of crying and the runs I was having are also consistent with high thyroid.

The only other thing that’s a bit of an odd coincidence is that I had anxiety following two separate times of hard-core dieting/fasting.

It’s going to be a hot day out there today, and tomorrow we’re looking forward to hitting the pool. Going to do some fun shopping too, but nothing major.

Today we changed the rats’ cage and just took it easy. I’m doing a load of laundry now and hoping it’s a hell of a lot quieter than it was yesterday. All week I was annoyed with landscaping sounds on and off from all around me, but yesterday was the worst. The people behind us had a bunch of trees trimmed and it took 6 hours to do it. Traffic is obnoxious enough.

Really like this new site called TinyCards by Duolingo. It’s a great way to quiz yourself and learn things other than just languages.

FRIDAY, JUNE 16, 2017
It used to be that when I would have a piece of clothing that was stained, I would wash it right away in our old top-loader and it would still be present. But now I can leave it sitting for days in our “sidewinder,” and then it comes perfectly clean. This thing is a pain in the ass to keep dry and keep laundry pods and small G-strings/ankle socks from getting trapped in the seal, but totally worth it.

Anyway, the good news is that I’m feeling a lot better, and I’m determined to keep this shit from happening every so often. It’s a vicious cycle that is beyond exhausting. Really, I’ve had it with this on-and-off madness and I really think the medication is indeed the main culprit versus the perimenopause. Tom thinks the medication is only about 30% or 40% of the problem, but after doing the math we decided my best bet would be to skip a dose once a week rather than wait and let it accumulate and for things to get bad again.

I don’t give a shit at this point what my numbers say or what my doctor thinks is the case. I know my own body. Skipping weekly would put me down to around 63 mcgs, which might actually be a touch too low, but it won’t make me hypo enough to hurt me in any way. I know for a fact that 50 mcg is too low cuz after I was bumped up to 75, my hair started thickening up and growing. But 75 mcg is simply a touch too high for me, like it or not. It’s not way high like 88s were, which is why I didn’t get as bad and I was able to bounce back in a week instead of a few months.

I’m sensitive to stimulants, which have the potential to terrorize, and I have to make adjustments until I finally hit menopause and at least omit that instigator from the equation. But I don’t expect this to happen for another year or two, so this is the way it has to be for now. If I have problems again in a few months even at the lower dose, then we’ll have to try something else. I won’t know what will help till I try it.

Meanwhile, homeopathic doctors aren’t covered by our insurance, so that’s not going to happen. I still say that if I can eliminate the main instigator, then there’s no need for homeos, shrinks, therapists or psych drugs. I just can’t keep taking this “fake fear” every so often. It’s like smoking a joint and telling yourself not to feel high. No matter how much your logic tells you you’re not in danger, the mind and body might not respond that way if it has too much thyroid hormone in it. Fear has no logic. Especially when it’s chemically produced.

I really think the perimenopause is more responsible for things like hot flashes, dizziness, sleep issues and fatigue as opposed to anxiety. I’m not saying that it’s not causing some of it; I just think it’s only causing a small part of it.

I was going to try an experiment this weekend where I had Tom take me out of the park as soon as I got “stabbed,” but if all keeps going well, maybe we won’t have to unless we want to go out. The idea was trying to prove or disprove whether or not it really could be something haunting the house, even though we both agree this is the least likely scenario.

I feel really bad for the guy across from Bob and Virginia. I guess it really was serious after all. I was sitting out on the swing earlier before the direct sunlight became obnoxious and saw Bob tending to his tomatoes, which he thinks will be ready at the end of the month. He said he saw the guy fall but he couldn’t move him because he’s so heavy. He apparently had a stroke and was really confused and all that. Confused or not, I would think that would have to be utterly terrifying.

We’re going to be in for a week of triple-digit temps, and I’m looking forward to hitting the pool this weekend. We both are.

THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 2017
Happy 23rd anniversary to us!!! Unfortunately, he has to work and I’m still not feeling the greatest. I didn’t actually start getting “stabbed” in the chest with anxiety until eight hours into my day yesterday. Five hours of anxiety might still be a bit much (it stopped around the time he came home, not surprisingly), but it’s better than feeling it all day long like I sometimes do. Right now I’m just borderline where it’s kind of bubbling below the surface and I’m doing what I can to keep it from rearing its ugly head… EFT, eating foods with tryptophan, deep breathing, etc.

I slept a little longer last night but I’m a touch tired if only because anxiety is tiring. We’re pretty sure that the “neck knockers” where I sometimes feel the pulse on the side of my neck and some of the head rushes could be due to high blood pressure. We took my BP when I got up and the top number was 157. But then I took some deep breaths and brought it down to around 130. I don’t normally have high blood pressure. We think it’s just up because my anxiety is up. I always knew there was a connection with those neck knockers, inward trembling and shit like that.

We’re still researching homeopathic doctors. The question will be finding one that our insurance covers in a country that doesn’t believe in universal healthcare. I definitely don’t want to pay out-of-pocket for it with no guarantees. If I knew for sure that it would help, then yes, I’d give our life savings and just about anything else. Never before in my life have my emotions not matched my life. Anytime I would be stressed out or depressed in the past it was because something bad was going on. All this hormonal shit didn’t exist before a few years ago, and where I’ve always looked ahead and sometimes wished I could jump the hands of time into the future, now I wish I could rewind it back to early 2014.

I just wish I could go back to the days when certain things weren’t so scary. I had a pain in the side of my neck and naturally, it scared the shit out of me. I have a great life with a great husband and it’s sad that I can’t enjoy it to its fullest. My worst problem should be all the traffic and landscaping noise I have to listen to. That should be my worst problem. Not feeling so incredibly hated from above (if there is anything up there) and like I’m not going to survive much longer. We all have our breaking points.

A part of me regrets stopping the clonidine because of the way it would knock me out and make me sleep shitty. I think that was a better form of torture than feeling anxious.

Later…

Had to stop writing because… you guessed it. That strange vibration in my head picked up right along with my anxiety and a weak feeling in my legs, and then I got to spend some quality time on the toilet again with the runs. Not sure what’s causing what, and I suppose the runs could’ve been something I ate if not from anxiety, but it’s getting hard to believe Tom’s assurances. He keeps assuring me I don’t have anything life-threatening, and while the tests I’ve had confirm this, I can’t help but wonder how the hell one can feel so bad and not be dying. Seriously, you feel like you’re about to die.

After I called him and we talked for a few minutes, I took a lorazepam and then sat on the swing in front. This helped me feel a little better but the sunlight was blinding so I came back in and just rested for a while, trying not to wonder if this is the last anniversary we’ll ever have. Yeah, you know that thing about positive thinking? It doesn’t work very well when you’ve felt like utter shit for half a month.

All the rats are looking at me like WTF? I feel too shitty for high-maintenance animals that are a lot of work and responsibility, but even so, I should go give them some attention. At least let them run around a bit. Despite having a cage so big I could nearly stand inside of it, these dog-like creatures are freedom whores.

Just spilled incense ashes all over my desk. I’ve gone from anxious to pissed. I love it.

Later…

Finally, there is a light in the dark! I don’t know if it will last the rest of the day, a week, a month, or more, but I’m enjoying it while it does. After I had a horrible few hours this morning, that weird vibrating sensation in my head backed off, my anxiety and stomach issues eased up, and I began to feel like myself again.

I stepped outside and saw Virginia walking across the street toward her place. She said something about an ambulance coming.

“An ambulance for who?” I asked, worried that something was wrong with Bob. But it was the guy across from her. We’ve exchanged hellos but I don’t know his name. Pretty sure Tom chatted with him once, too.

Then she said something about him being ok, so I don’t know if they took him away. It was then that I saw Bob walking across the street and waiting outside while the paramedics tended to the guy inside. We waved to each other.

So I let the rats out and after a while, Dumbo comes screaming out of one of their tents, apparently bullied by Burke. Burkey boy loves to let the others know that he’s king.

Finally a good Taylor Swift song. I never liked any of the squinty, cat-eyed and almost snobbish-looking singer’s songs, but Out of the Woods is a good one.

Started watching The Returned on Netflix and it’s okay so far.

Not as many motorcycles as I expected to be hearing, but they are picking up a bit. So are the temperatures. We’re going to be in for some triple-digit temps, so we’re hoping to go for a swim this weekend. Really hope there aren’t any kids!

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2017
The dizziness has backed off, but I still have some inward trembling - that “buzzing” sensation in my head - and lightheadedness at times, and of course the worst symptom of all… anxiety.

Because I skipped my thyroid meds for a total of three days, the anxiety has backed off a little. It has been one of the most exhausting battles of my life and sometimes I worry it’s a battle that’s eventually going to break me and that I’m destined to lose, but I’m doing my best to hang in there. Definitely going to take Stacey’s advice on the homeopathic doctor. I just hope it won’t take too long to get in to see one.

Sometimes it’s like being beaten with a bat relentlessly, hard enough to really knock the wind out of you but not quite hard enough to kill you. But then it gets so bad at times that you kind of wish it would if it won’t just back off and give you your life back. I still keep hoping that someday I’ll get back to my old self and it will be for more than just a few months, too.

Although tired because I was up 18 hours and only slept 5.5 hours, I feel a little more alive today. Enough to clean another section of the house and even do some Bowflex exercises.

Decided that writing a bio by pulling the highlights from my many years of journals is a bit more work than I’d like to do at the moment, so within the next few days or so I’ll add a few more highlights and be done with it. Just the major events instead of things that don’t really stand out in my memory.

Not much else going on. I’m just riding out my latest storm and glad that the weather is warming up again.

I’ve heard hammering from both woodpeckers and humans, but nothing major. Personally, I would hear that 24/7 before I continued on being anxious. It starting to rear up on me again, but now it’s just lurking below the surface.

There’s also been tons of landscaping the last couple of days, especially yesterday. It was all over the place all fucking day.

Even though Tom has to work tomorrow, I really REALLY hope I’m calmer and awake for our 23rd anniversary.

Not at all surprisingly, Aly has ignored my tweets.

Tom is going to be assisting me in an experiment. I’ve GOT to figure out a way to kill this anxiety for good once and for all. This particular type of anxiety has been a bear to tame so far. It’s that horrible feeling in the center of my chest. No racing, pounding heart. Just waves of what feels exactly like fear in my chest. That’s the only way I can describe it. it’s such an OMG horrible feeling that I fear I may and doing something stupid. The thought of killing myself when my life is otherwise great is pretty bizarre, and I’d hate to leave Tom and let down my sister, but that’s how bad it is, even though I know I risk trading in a horrible feeling for a horrible afterlife. Still don’t know if I believe in that sort of thing, but I have no way to prove it one way or another. What if I really do burn in hell? What if I really do walk around in circles in the dark with these other miserable mumbling figures that someone who tried to kill themselves claimed they did? I saw a documentary where they said this happened to them in a near-death experience. Again, not sure if I buy it, and I know something’s going to kill me someday, but if it turns out that the afterlife is a lot worse than this life, I can never return to this life. Maybe there’s no sleep in the afterlife, and therefore every time I feel tired I can’t just jump into my warm soft bed. Worse, maybe I’ll never be reconnected with Tom.

Tom just Skyped me to say that he rescheduled my appointment with Doc A for July 19th. Not sure I like that I have to wait five weeks to see her now that I’m anxious again, and for the appropriate treatment for my rash, but she hasn’t managed to get rid of my anxiety yet, and a rash ain’t shit compared to anxiety.

Back to the whole afterlife, ghosts, spirits, and all that stuff… while I’m not sure I believe in that, and this house has never “acted” haunted, I’ve decided to get some cleansing sage, silly or not. It’s said to rid negative energy, and after the first year here, this house has been full of nothing but that and negative experiences for me. Gotta admit, though, that if any house might have been haunted, or at least the land it was on, it was Maricopa. Windows breaking, the smell of death…

As I’ve learned, after what I went through with the poverty and the freeloaders in Arizona, it’s always a worse crisis when it’s internal and not from an external source. For me, it is, anyway. Also, I had a much clearer picture of just what was going on with the external sources. Now, I’m pretty sure my problem is physiological, but how much of it is perimenopause versus my meds? And is there any possibility, as unlikely as it seems, that there could be another cause no one’s hit upon yet? That’s what makes this scarier. It may be just as hard to control, but it’s a lot less predictable and understandable.

Along with the sage, I’m getting hair dye remover, tweezers, and these combs to brush through your hair to give it streaks of different colors. It’s just temporary stuff I’m probably way too old for.

TUESDAY, JUNE 13, 2017
I guess now is as good a time as any to write about my hellish morning. My dizziness came to a head but we’re pretty sure we have it under control now. The dizziness first started yesterday. As I was coming awake I was not only aware of that inward trembling sensation, but could also feel waves of dizziness washing over me even while I was still lying down. I could hear this strange ringing/whirring as well. I got up and it was really bad. I started to wonder if my good ear needed to be de-waxed. Even Tom suggested that. He’s had this problem so bad before that he couldn’t even get up and walk. So we threw the wax stuff in it twice as well as a round of peroxide and that helped a bit. I’m not perfect but I’m much better.

I slept better, so I’m not fatigued today. I did some cleaning and I rearranged the hutch. Skipped a third dose and started off a little less anxious. Until it picked up a bit later on (I haven’t taken lorazepam, though), I thought how being less anxious makes me worry my thyroid meds are more involved than I’d like to think, but then you don’t usually improve this quickly after cutting back either. It took me three months to recover when they tried me on a higher dose, but that was more extreme, so I don’t know what to think at this point. I keep going back and forth in my mind as to why the medication is probably involved and why it’s probably not. Tom’s theory is likely correct; it’s not just one thing but a combination of things that have made me anxious.

I also had the runs this morning and I have no explanation for that one. Something I ate? Just nerves? All I know for sure is that I’m so sick of suffering nearly every single fucking day. I don’t know how much more of this I can take before the fight goes out of me. It’s just too much at times. I can’t believe how much I’ve suffered in the last three years. I don’t think I ever would’ve believed it had someone told me I would suffer like this because I’m otherwise very fit and healthy. Yet I’m suffering like I’m old while people in their late 80s like Bob and Jim can go out walking every single day without fail. How fucked up is that? I’m getting to the point where I would rather get something life-threatening that just kills me rather than live to suffer.

Although I’m sure it won’t do me any good and I shouldn’t bother with those that don’t give a shit about me, I made one last-ditch effort to reach out to Alison, knowing that she can relate to a lot of what I’m going through.

I keep reminding myself that just like Stacey said, if I can have times when I feel less anxious, I can get back to that place again. Yeah, but when? And how often am I going to continue to suffer? It would still help to know how much of what is responsible for this feeling, especially the anxiety. Really hate to think it’s mostly the meds because I have to be on it for life. Yet it’s awfully hard to believe I could feel this way without some chemical being put into my body, and coincidence or not, I didn’t start feeling this way till a few months after starting the medication. Also, since going back to 75s for good, I haven’t had this particular type of chest anxiety until my TSH tested below 8. Again, the only thing that points away from the medication is the lack of lung tightness, the lack of weight loss, and the lack of a booming/racing heart. But I’ve got the anxiety and the runs.

Here’s another thing… if I really had Graves’ disease in my 20s then why didn’t I have this insane anxiety and not just an occasional racing heart that wouldn’t scare the shit out of me like it can now? I simply found it annoying. Not terrifying.

I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure out what could be causing what and to what extent. It does seem that the longer I go without a period, the more I’m likely to have anxiety.

As for the last of the bad news, though it’s nothing compared to the way I’ve been suffering physically and emotionally, the woodpecker is back because it just had to rain and wash the poison off the patio roof. Tom’s going to spray it again when he gets home.

Believe it or not, there is some good news. We finally got our stuff from Amazon after they fucked up and caused it to be delayed. The new horse curtains are gorgeous. I managed to hang them in the dining window. They’re a little wide for that window, but hopefully, if I survive to move someday, the next place will have a slider.

I also got my new electronic scalp massager and it feels great.

MONDAY, JUNE 12, 2017
I’m glad I dumped my Facebook page. Not just because it lost its excitement, but because I’m so sick of hearing about people I can’t stand. I never beat a child and I never allowed anyone else to do so. Yet if I died, how long/often would my memory be honored on Facebook?

I can’t believe it’s almost the middle of June yet it’s 68° inside the house right now. WTF is this state coming to?

Most of the weekend was positively shitty. I didn’t start feeling better until the end of my day yesterday, around the time we reapplied the Return to Sender spell. It really does seem to help. It doesn’t make things perfect and it doesn’t mean you won’t have some bad days, but you do have more good days with this spell. I looked in my journal and found that the last time we did the spell (it takes two people to perform it) was December 31, 2015. Things were relatively good until June when they tried to statin me, then the shit hit the fan again in the fall when they attempted to raise my levothyroxine dose.

I almost hit my goal. Almost. It’s very frustrating and even a bit depressing to have come so close. Since early January I’ve had a handful of days where my anxiety was borderline, but nothing major until the first of this month. I was hoping to make it until the middle of the month because then I feel like I really would have been breaking records with that and therefore making progress. It’s even been 5 months since I saw Stacey.

But then the fatigue set in, another period came, and I’ve been anxious on and off for the last 12 days.

The last two nights I slept shitty after doing better with that for nearly a week. I’ve woken up with hot flashes, inward trembling, and feeling the pulse in my neck, which I sometimes feel. Had a series of weird dreams along the way, too. I could do a whole entry just on that.

So this morning I skipped my thyroid medication a second time (it took three skips to help back the anxiety off the last time) after waking up borderline anxious, went out walking in this endless winter, then traded anxiety in for lightheadedness. After I relaxed for a few minutes and had something to eat I was fine. He left for work and I did some cleaning and hit the Bowflex.

That super loud car is on its way to work now. So glad they’re working so I don’t have to listen to them come and go 50 times a day, but I feel like that house is never going to sell. I think they need to drop it under 100K.

Anyway, we’re going to reschedule with Dr. A for sure. The question is whether or not I want to see Stacey. I miss her and I usually feel better after talking with her, but I really don’t know that there’s anything more she can do for me. I’m either going to continue to suffer on and off for the rest of my life, or this shit is going to stop before I do something stupid. Gosh, I hope it doesn’t come down to that! But anxiety can morph into depression. While anxiety feels worse than depression, anxious people just want to calm down whereas depressed people can end up with their thoughts turning awfully dark… without the help of Prozac.

First you get anxious, then you get frustrated that you got anxious, then you get depressed because you felt both those things, and then you get pissed because you feel powerless to do shit about it. You think if there really was a God, He’s got to be one seriously heartless asshole to allow you to continue to suffer. You wonder what you did to deserve it, along with all the other countless innocent sufferers of various kinds out there in the world. The only good in it is that it makes the good times all the more special. You appreciate the beauty of nature more than you normally would, the sound of a lovely song, and the wonder of the universe itself, minus the pain, sorrow, violence, war, hate, craziness, death and destruction.

Back to Stacey. Yeah, I miss her at times. The sound of her voice, her warm brown eyes, her intelligence… I don’t have a problem with the fact that we’re attracted to each other and like each other because there’s no harm in simply finding someone attractive and liking them. She probably shouldn’t have accepted some information I gave her, but she did right to remain professional as she has. No one would have known other than my husband and sister had she not, but I do appreciate it in the end. What she looks like doesn’t make seeing her any easier or harder. What matters is that she’s a wonderful counselor, but knowing there’s only so much she can do since it’s not like she has a magic wand she can wave to set my hormone straight for life, has me unsure as to whether or not it’s worth a trip out to see her. I think I’m going to give it another week or two. If nothing else I do to try to help myself works, then yes, I’ll call her. I’ve got mixed emotions about that. The thought of never seeing her again may be a bit sad, but I would prefer to do well enough not to have to see her. Life is always full of goodbyes anyway.

What’s frustrating and sometimes even scary about perimenopause is that the anxiety can come and go in a split second, as can other symptoms. Before I finish typing this sentence I could be anxious all over again. Or maybe I’ll be dizzy by the time I finish the entire entry. You just never know. You’re pretty much at its mercy. But everything I’ve taken for it has either quit working or backfired on me, so I’m trying to tough it out with natural remedies. Right now I feel okay and all I can do is hope that it’s for more than just a little while.

Okay, so let me get to the dreams, and yes, Stacey was in a few no doubt because she’s been on my mind. My old endo popped into my dreams too, LOL.

Dr. O was in a small room (her office?) mumbling to herself that she was worried about being recognized somewhere.

Finding it hard to believe she would be the type to straighten her curly hair, and never having seen her with makeup I said, “So change your appearance.”

“In a half-hour?” she asked doubtfully.

“Or less,” I said with a confident nod. Then I pulled my hair straightening brush from my handbag as well as a makeup palette, ready to give her a makeover.

Then I met Stacey somewhere in a long corridor. She was still short and skinny but her hair was a few inches below her shoulders.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as I began to follow her.

“To the dance rehearsal for the dance contest,” she said.

So I followed her into this auditorium and watched a few dancers go through some dance routines.

Stacey then said, “I think you can win. Think you can do these moves?”

“I don’t know if I can win, and a couple of them seem a bit intricate, but yeah, I think I can do it with some practice.”

I watched them for a while so I would learn the routines, and then I was suddenly in bed with Stacey. No, not doing what you might think we were doing. The room was dark and she was sound asleep beside me.

Then I got up and watched a video I didn’t know someone had made of us sitting in a booth in a restaurant. My hair was only to my shoulders and I thought I looked both fat and old, but I didn’t care. Instead, I wondered who the hell made the video.

Then I was in a dark room sitting at a small rectangular table. The room was silent but I was aware that the person sitting across from me and next to me, whoever they were, was well aware of me. I pushed some papers around that sat on the table.

The rest of the dreams I remember are just fragments of things… lying on a bed with a backache in a dark room. Walking down a long corridor in a building and spotting a cat. Some apartment manager showing me wallpaper options for an apartment. People camping by a road. Someone telling me I looked sad. A girl running really fast to catch a bus.

Later…

Good God, there really is always something, isn’t there? Just like past times we’ve reapplied the Return to Sender spell, things didn’t get better right away. It usually takes a week.

Meanwhile, my eyes started “flashing” and shimmering in a circular section. I’m not sure if it was in both eyes or not but I could see this flashing in a portion of my vision. This happened a while back too, and the eye doctor I mentioned it to said something about getting a headache afterward, but I didn’t. I don’t think it’s anything serious like a detached retina. I noticed slight flashing the last two days, but today it was prominent and it started so fast. My vision was normal one second and then it was flashing the next. I could see the flashing even with my eyes closed. Fortunately, it only lasted a few minutes as it slipped downward and out of my range of sight, so to speak. But yeah, it sort of collapsed downward.

My anxiety started picking up again and so I took my mostly worthless lorazepam and called Stacey, but we could only talk for a few minutes because a patient came in. I’ll call her some other time if I decide that yes, I want to make an appointment for sure. Not sure if I was sensing resistance on her part at seeing me or if she really believed she couldn’t do anything more for me or if she really was just pressed for time, but she never once mentioned me seeing her in the 6½ minutes we talked.

I told her I almost reached my goal and was just two weeks shy of breaking a record as far as when I last had any significant anxiety. As I also told her, my life hasn’t been perfect every single day since I last saw her when I had anxiety in January, but overall life was good until this month. Did she have any advice for me?

She asked if anything happened to trigger it, and I said no, and that we still believed it was perimenopause. I told her about my visit with Doc C and how the clonidine didn’t help. She asked if I was still active and if I had anything to distract myself with. I told her I was doing the usual activities both physical and not. She said that one of the things that always concerned her was that I spend too much time alone inside my head.

Inside my head? Inside my head… she been reading my blog?

As I told her, I agree with her, but not all of us can simply change that at will. I don’t drive and I can’t keep a schedule. At least I’m not spending nearly as much time alone as I did when I lived alone. Sometimes I’d go days without seeing anyone. I just didn’t have anxiety of this kind back then.

Then she asked if I’d ever seen a homeopathic doctor. I haven’t, and it’s definitely something to consider despite my lack of trust in medication with me being so prone to side effects and all that. The natural herbs they use are supposed to be safer, though.

She asked what I’ve been doing to try to help my anxiety, and I told her I’ve been resorting to the usual hacks and anything else I can think of, but they don’t seem to help with this particular type of anxiety, and of course the lorazepam no longer works. I don’t even get drowsy from the stuff anymore.

She reminded me that if I can have times when I’m not anxious, I can get back to that place again. Yes, I know this, but sometimes it’s hard to believe it will ever really happen and for more than just a few months.

SUNDAY, JUNE 11, 2017
OMG, what an absolutely SHITTY weekend so far! Yeah, it’s tangent time. I literally want to live to get out of this, but also to die so I never have to suffer again like I do every few weeks to every few months. I am SO, SO SICK of this shit!

Why have certain things like lack of sleep and not eating become so damn hard on me? Sometimes I feel so much older than I am. And so incredibly cursed, too. Today’s one of those days when trying to “look on the bright side” and keep in mind how much worse things could be isn’t cutting it for me. I feel nothing but doom and gloom and like I’m going to be stuck in this on-and-off rut forever where I suffer anxiety, fatigue, dizziness and then get depressed because I felt those things.

I skipped my pill yesterday and had no anxiety all day. But I sure had enough other shit to deal with, and I’m just so sick of suffering as often and as intensely as I do.

I have a lot to get off my chest, but I might have to do it in spurts. I’m keeping it private, too. It’s just too dark to share with anyone other than Tom, and sometimes I just need to write for myself.

I’m just so sick of feeling like shit both physically and emotionally and not being able to do a damn thing about it. I feel both powerless and hopeless. Everything I try to take for it has backfired or lost its effect, and I’m never going to know how much of the perimenopause is responsible for this until I hit menopause and I still think I’ve got a few years to go yet. I still think it’s tied more to the medication. I think the perimenopause may be responsible for hot flashes, shitty sleep, fatigue and dizziness, but I think the anxiety is mostly on the meds.

I took it when I got up and started feeling anxious, along with some other things, so I’m skipping tomorrow’s dose. Then after I showered and ate, I felt really warm, weak and dizzy and then I had the runs earlier. Tom thinks most of how I feel now is due to eating rich foods I’m not used to. I forget that sometimes we suffer for what we did the day before, like those who have hangovers. I’ve become so damn sensitive to so many things that now I’m afraid to go out for any foods I don’t normally eat, and while it’s easy to say I need a vacation, I don’t know that I’ll ever want to do that again either.

The first thing that pissed me off was going to the lab for nothing cuz they changed hours. I was so fucking hungry all night long and pissed that it was cold again. Even today I’m bundled up like it’s winter.

I got up before 10 PM and thought I could make it until 6 AM, which would mean 18 hours without food. But I had hunger pains all night and I was dizzy and tired. Again I had to wonder how the hell I would starve myself when I was younger, but I was younger and a lot smaller. I only needed about 1200 cals if even that. Now I need at least 1500.

So we get to the lab at 6 o’clock just to find that they had changed their hours and wouldn’t open until 7 o’clock. At first I was tempted to wait another hour, but then Tom suggested we go eat and make an appointment during the week when it better suits my schedule. Two failed attempts to get to the lab, and then having to cancel my Monday appointment made me wonder if something was trying to tell me something. Like maybe it had gone from wanting to keep the appointments going to wanting to stop them even more than I do. I would gladly give up the labs, the doctors and the medications in a heartbeat if I could. But I just don’t want the symptoms of untreated hypothyroidism back, so I’m a slave to this medication, which means I have to keep going to the lab, and I have to keep going to the doctors. The question still remains as to whether or not I should go back to Stacey.

We went to Jack-in-the-Box where we got breakfast platters, then we had to deal with a crazy homeless woman, me on my empty stomach and feeling like shit. It was obvious to both of us from the get-go that she was schizophrenic and that the voices in her head were giving her a hard time that morning, as Tom said.

We placed our order, got our drinks and sat down. Then she came in. I didn’t realize she was homeless at first because she wasn’t shabbily dressed and I’m pretty sure she even had makeup on. She was a little taller than me but she was skinny as a rail.

She then called to Tom, “Hey, you in the blue shirt. Did you just go into my pocketbook?”

Tom said no, and then she goes, “I saw you get up.”

“Been here the whole time,” he told her.

I started to seriously consider putting her in her place, but was so fucking hungry and I just wanted to eat. Crazy or not, it’s pretty brazen to fuck with a couple of people like that when you’re about 110 pounds and the others are 150-250. I guess crazy doesn’t care. Not everyone is going to be smart enough to recognize that she’s crazy either. Nonetheless, while Tom is all for defending yourself if you’re attacked first, he urged me not to go after her simply because she was crazy, and risk getting into trouble. But God apparently cared more about her safety than spiting me at the moment because she didn’t threaten or attack us and provoke me to attack back (because with my shit luck even self-defense against another white person would land me in jail). God was having fun wreaking enough havoc on me physically and emotionally as it was. Or at least allowing it to go on, if He exists.

Then she went to the bathroom, leaving an army duffel bag of some kind on her seat (I never did see a pocketbook), and never said another thing to us when she returned.

As I said to Tom, why are people like that not locked up? Not so much in jail but in some kind of facility. I mean what happens when the voices in their heads tell them to shoot or stab us?

I expected to feel better 20 minutes or so after eating, but I didn’t. Instead, I continued to feel both hunger and fatigue for the rest of the day. It’s like I let myself get so hungry that I couldn’t kill it and nothing could replenish my energy either. So for the millionth time, I couldn’t work out yesterday and I can’t do it today either. Our plans to go to Denny’s in the middle of the night are shot. It’s like nothing we plan lately comes to fruition. Instead, we might go to Walmart later on for some things we didn’t get online.

Because I was so tired I fell asleep earlier and slept shitty as hell. I woke up many times… because I was too hot, too cold, or just because.

I took my meds when I got up at the same time as last night and started feeling anxious. Then I took a shower and ate which I thought would help. But then I began to feel really warm, tired and dizzy, and then I had the runs. Afraid my blood pressure was falling, I woke Tom up to take my vitals, but my HR was normal and my BP was slightly elevated because I was wound up.

A part of me regrets dumping the clonidine. Maybe it was better to be knocked out into oblivion and sleep shitty than to feel this anxiety. Anxiety is still the worst feeling, and I’ve become immune to the things that used to help. Both the tapping and the lorazepam have been worthless.

Despite how shitty I feel so much of the time physically and emotionally, I need to push myself to be more active, even if it means working out on the boring skier as opposed to going outdoors.

I feel grateful to Tom for supporting me but I also feel bad for him because I woke him up. He went back to bed after a while, though. While I’m still not sure it’s worth the time and money to see Stacey, he’s going to reschedule with A next week so he can look at his work calendar for the best time, along with my schedule. Then I’ll message her and let her know I couldn’t make it to the lab and see if I can still go, as I know lab orders expire. I think I might have a year, but I don’t know that for sure. I should have done what Tom suggested and made sure I didn’t go more than 12 hours without food. I should have gotten up like I did at 10 o’clock, eaten an hour or so later, then gone to the lab at 11 o’clock.

Now I know why there were only two other people waiting around, who also didn’t know the hours had changed.

I know I’ve said this a million times before, but the thought of suffering from this anxiety, fatigue and dizziness on and off for the rest of my life is a very terrifying and depressing thought. I don’t think I’m tough enough to survive it. This isn’t something you get used to. Even when you finally know what’s going on (or at least think you do) it’s still scary.

Then I’m sitting here trying to guess whether or not there really is a God, a devil, or something else, and whether or not it’s got it in for me. Well, even if it might not have it in for me and be against me, it certainly isn’t for me because it’s not doing anything to help. Not letting this happen yet again in the first place if you have that kind of power, would be a great way to start showing some real support. But as I realized a long time ago, if there is anything up there, it clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. Never has. Never will. So now it’s a matter of two things. Either sit back and accept the fact that I may be destined to suffer forever, or just kill myself and hope I don’t suffer a hell of a lot more wherever my spirit may end up, if we really do have spirits that go anywhere.

Aly “apologizes” for five days of silence on Twitter, claiming she’s more into fitness than social media these days. And sure enough, Kim hasn’t dumped her. Hey, why would any God karmatize her? It was only me she dumped.

Anyway, I felt like shit most of the night and I’m hoping that I feel better tomorrow, even if it may be silly for me to hope for anything at this point.

I’m sure there are more tidbits of thoughts, feelings and experiences I could write about, but I’m going to sign off for now.

SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 2017
It’s going to be a long hungry night. I only managed to sleep until 9:40 PM and the lab doesn’t open until 6 AM.

I skipped my meds yesterday and felt progressively better throughout the day. Once again I’m wondering if my anxiety is more due to accumulation than perimenopause. I may have to skip a few doses every few months for the rest of my life. On the positive side, I’ve been sleeping better for nearly a week now and I’m feeling less fatigue. I still haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to see Stacey again.

Continuing on with Thursday… I didn’t call Tammy just because I was anxious but also because I wanted to find out what was wrong with her. I had a few quick dreams where you don’t remember what happened but that was enough to tell you something’s up. I also sensed it while awake. Well, fortunately, her heart is doing okay, but she still struggles with pain, is unable to walk very far, and she went back to smoking. I could tell a soon as I heard her voice and that smoker’s cough. But if she can quit once, she can do it again.

She’d gotten up early to bring Mark to the airport. He flew to Ohio to visit family. I asked if she ever got lonely and she said no. The girls were over for dinner, plus she’s got friends. That’s where she and I have changed over the years. It’s hard to believe I lived alone for as long as I did. Sure I got lonely at times, but for the most part, I enjoyed it and couldn’t imagine it any other way. Now I would be very lonely and even anxious if Tom went away on an overnight trip or something like that, and I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to admit it. I am who I am and I always try to accept that, even when others can’t, not that anyone has ever condemned or judged me for not enjoying solitude as much as I once did. I’m just saying that I am how I am. I change what I want to change if I’m able to change it. If I can’t, then I just do my best to live with it.

Every time summer tries to make its way in we have a cold spell. It was 66° and raining a couple of days ago, which is almost unheard of for this time of year.

Tom and I talked about getting a couple of iPhones, but naw. I’m fine with my cheap android. Well, it may not be the cheapest on the market, but I don’t use the phone enough for it to be that important.

As I said before, it isn’t that I actively try to forget my parents or anyone else from my past who has been abusive or negative, related or not, so much as that I would prefer not to remember and be reminded of them. Yet I can’t control my dreams. Last night’s dream was rather long and detailed and in some ways, it was kind of funny.

Tammy and I were living with our parents and we were both working in the dream. I’m always able to keep a schedule in dreams, and she’s usually in perfect health. We were sharing a room in what appeared to be a three-bedroom house. We each had a twin bed on opposite walls, and I had one rat (Burke?) in a cage I kept under the bed, which in reality would be way too small for a rat, LOL.

Then mom woke us up and I was pissed because it was only two in the morning and I didn’t have to be up for 4-5 more hours. I went downstairs to find my parents sitting at a long table with Goldie and Al as well as “Boo” and Max. None of these people are alive. Spread out along with table was a huge feast containing several different dishes. I was almost tempted to stop and join them, but I really wanted to get back to sleep. The thought of riding home from work on my bike after being up 16 or more hours didn’t sit well with me. So then Goldie gave me a hug and I went and found Tammy getting dressed in another room.

“This must be serious if she’s getting us up in the middle of the night,” I said to Tammy.

Tammy said, “This isn’t about anything bad going on. It’s about me needing to work an earlier shift.”

“And I had to get up too? I want my own room!” I demanded, and the dream ended with me planning to move Burkey boy and myself into the spare room.

FRIDAY, JUNE 9, 2017
Wow! It has now been exactly a quarter of a century since I left New England! I was a 90-pound, 26-year-old girl with great vision and that couldn’t gain weight. Can’t gain it easily now either, but I sure as hell can’t lose what I gained before going on thyroid medication either, LOL. There were two words I had yet to learn the true meaning of… insecurity and anxiety. I’ll take the insecurity that came with the poverty we went through any day over this anxiety that can sometimes border on sheer terror. Nonetheless, I learned about insecurity in 2008, and then I learned about anxiety in 2014, and you know what folks? It’s awfully hard to unlearn things at times.

So sit back, grab a cup of hot chocolate or tea, and enjoy another one of my bittersweet midnight rambles.

Okay, so I took a couple of ibuprofen for my jaw arthritis, snuggled up in bed for a while, and now I feel a little calmer. I thought about it and realized that if I stopped my meds for six months that would tell me if my anxiety was due to the meds since I can’t even go that long without having anxiety. But that still might not tell me if it were literally the meds themselves. More than likely it’s a combination of things… the perimenopause, the medication fueling it, etc.

It wouldn’t be good for me to quit for half a year either way, and I won’t. I’d probably gain a shitload of weight. I may not be able to lose either, but I stopped gaining years ago, leaving me around 30 pounds overweight. The only difference is that I’m a few inches smaller than I was just over a year ago because of the Bowflex. People think I’m between 120-130 pounds. Wrong!

So anyway, I didn’t feel great after talking to Tammy but I definitely felt better, and I’m sure celebrating our anniversary this weekend will make me feel even better. It’s on the 15th actually, but we’re going to go out to eat, plus we did a little shopping on Amazon. Then he turns 60 on the 28th. That’s a bit of a sad and scary thought even though he’s in great health and he reminds me that a number is just a number. Yeah, but his wife is 8.5 years younger, in better shape, and is supposed to live longer than men.

I was telling Tammy that while we have no regrets about not having kids, I worry for us when we get old since I can’t imagine who we would have to take care of us, and the last thing I would want would be for us to end up in some state-run nursing home facility where we would likely be abused.

“I’ve got more to worry about than you do,” she said, and I started to think, oh no, please don’t play the problem-comparing game. But then she said something that had me wondering. I really thought she was joking, but based on her tone I can’t be sure. She said something about the girls swearing they won’t be there for her when she’s old.

“Of course they’re joking and of course they’ll be there for you,” I said to her.

I expected her to come out at that point and say, “Yeah, I know.” But instead, she said something about them liking to take her places and leaving her there, whatever the hell that meant, and I wasn’t sure I should push her for details either, so I let it go at that.

Those girls have always had a mean streak in them. No doubt about that. Burn them or at least make them think you did and you’re probably fucked a lot more than you would be fucked if you burned me. Yet despite any signs of aggressiveness and vengefulness, I can’t imagine them abandoning their mom. Maybe they really would, though. There are lots of things we can’t imagine until they happen. I do remember Sarah joking about being the one who decides what nursing home she goes to someday, but is there something more going on than I realize?

Come to think of it, the girls have posted tons of “I love my dad,” “I miss my dad,” “I love my sister” memes, but never once have I ever seen anything in regard to their mom.

THURSDAY, JUNE 8, 2017
Although there are a few stray spots, my period is finally ending. It wasn’t a heavy one but it sure was a long one. I’m less anxious today too, but it is picking up now. It seems to do this 4-5 hours into my day.

I didn’t know this but it turns out that they make this stuff that dissolves hair dye. I guess it restores it back to its natural color, which means I would have brunette sprinkled with gray. That would be great because then I wouldn’t have to wait for the shit to grow/fade out.

They also make temporary dye, so I see, if you want to play around with some colors short-term and be a little wild for a few days.

For our anniversary Tom’s getting me two new sets of decorative curtains. One’s a scene of a gothic woman on a wooden raft in a swampy forest at night. The scene is mostly dark save for the glowing lantern she holds. The other scene is of three horses, each a different color, in a field. There are red poppies in front of them. Behind them, you see mountains in the distance.

We talked about getting me a tablet to use to listen to music on that I would hook to the stereo. Instead, I’m going to be using my phone and he’s going to write a program for a music player that has features I like.

Later…

My anxiety was the worst yesterday. The two days before it the lorazepam at least helped a little and took the edge off of it, then I would feel even better when he got up. Not yesterday, though. Yesterday I felt progressively worse throughout my day. It came to a head about a half-hour before he left for work and went on for a few hours. Again I wonder… if I hadn’t had the EMDR, would I have panicked? I sure was damn close! It was a little scary. I was going from hot to cold, my heart was pounding, my number twos were on a roll, and I was afraid to move a muscle for fear of making my heart pump even faster. Where some people find it best to keep busy when they’re anxious, I find that I not only have trouble focusing, but that can actually make it worse for me. If your heart is racing and you do something that can speed it up, you’re just adding to the problem. Even just sitting up in a chair can take more energy than when you’re lying down, so in my case, it’s best that I just lie still, take deep breaths, and wait till the storm passes. I do get up and do some things, but I do it in spurts. Exercise is said to help some people, but I think last night’s run may’ve made things worse.

Tom thinks some of this is me being anxious about going to the lab and what my numbers may be, and not just the perimenopause. We agreed I would skip my thyroid meds today because even if they’re not the cause (God, I hope my TSH hasn’t slipped too low or that I’m pocket-flaring), they could at least be fueling the problem since the medication is a stimulant. Well, I’m stimulated enough, thank you, so I may skip a few doses just like I did the last time I was this anxious. Skipping a few doses every now and then can’t hurt me. It’s going a few months that could put me at risk. As I assured Tammy, who I called yesterday, I’m not going to make any drastic changes with my meds and I’m not going to quit them either.

She suggested the disease itself could make me anxious, but I think it’s unlikely because it’s treated. If that were the case I would think I would’ve felt this way pretty consistently before treatment when my TSH was up in the 30s. The problem is that there are numerous things that cause the same symptoms. I’m anxious and I’m bordering on having the runs, which points to both perimenopause and accumulation of my medication, but I’m not losing weight uncontrollably or trembling, which are also signs of being overmedicated. No lung tightness either, one of the first warning signs.

The usual hacks haven’t been helping. Not the EFT, the acupressure, etc. Sometimes I feel like something up there wants me to suffer. Like it’s really fucking funny or something. But hey, with all the innocent children out there who get abused or die of cancer, why should it care about little old me and my anxiety?

And if I could ever learn to count and my math wasn’t as shitty as my language learning ability is good, I would know that it’s been closer to 3 years and not 4. I just got the number 4 stuck in my head because next month we will have lived here for 4 years. I’ve been suffering on and off for the last 3 years (which feels like a decade), but I think it started more with them adjusting me to the medication than the perimenopause. It’s hard to gauge exactly when the perimenopause started. I think I was 48, almost 49 years old. The thought of possibly having many years to go where I’m tortured every few months makes me want to slam my fucking head in the wall so damn hard. The thing is that I can never know how much of this is related to my medication until I actually hit menopause. Then there’s my worst fear, which I try not to think about. Yeah, the ultimate fear… what if I’m destined to be this way for the rest of my life no matter what? I don’t even want to go there, but sometimes my mind wanders in that direction and goes “what-iffing.”

But this shit really does have to end someday, right? Nothing lasts forever, right?

I have more to write about, but like I said, it’s best for me to do things in spurts.

TUESDAY, JUNE 6, 2017
As you know, I’ve tried a handful of different prescription medications for anxiety and high cholesterol over the last few years, most of which have caused problems. Nothing wrong with taking ibuprofen if you’ve got a headache, a toothache or period cramps, and I can certainly see taking something to prevent a life-threatening emergency. But I’m finding that most medications seem to simply be a matter of trading in one problem for another. I took statins to prevent a stroke or heart attack that may never happen just to have the sore throat from hell. I tried to curb anxiety with Prozac just to end up with suicidal thoughts. Then I tried Clonidine for that just to get knocked out, sleep shitty, and feel like I was in a fog the next day. Birth control wasn’t an option as far as hormonal therapy because of my high cholesterol, but what if it had been? How long would I have lasted on that before problems caused me to stop that, too?

Other than my thyroid meds and lorazepam when the anxiety bites, I am so done with medication unless it’s a matter of life or death! I’m not kidding when I say I’d rather not live as long and feel better than live longer just to suffer any more than the perimenopause naturally causes me to suffer.

Obviously, it was meant to be and something up there wants me to suffer. Just like with other things in life, the more I try to fight fate, the worse it is for me. Sometimes it really is best that I just grin and bear it and take my “punishment.” I don’t know if I’ll be rewarded for my suffering in the afterlife, or if I’ll be made to suffer even worse and wish I could return to this kind of suffering, but I can’t concern myself with an afterlife that may not exist and that I can’t control even if it does.

I feel like a colossal failure. I mean look at me. I can’t even go more than 4-6 months without anxiety. I briefly considered running to Stacey about it, but that would be one more appointment and more money spent on something that’s physiological and that she can’t help me with. I’m near tears of frustration right now because I’ve been on this trend for three years now with no end in sight. I’m having the longest period ever, or so it seems. I’ve been bleeding since around 6 PM on the 31st, and if it doesn’t stop today or tomorrow I’m going to be worried. Assuming it does stop, I would bet almost anything that I’ll definitely have another period in August.

Even though I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to skip my meds this close to the lab, I’m definitely skipping tomorrow just in case it’s not causing my problem but maybe fueling it. If I have a physiological condition that can make me anxious, maybe taking stimulants isn’t a bright idea. That’s why I go easy on the caffeine.

So to quickly sum up the last couple of days… I didn’t sleep all that great the time before last, but I had more energy and I did more things. I became anxious a few hours after I got up and got rid of it a few hours later with lorazepam.

Last time around I fell asleep earlier and slept longer and better, save for the nightmare I had about a dog attacking a rat. The bottom half of the rat was basically crushed and it was bleeding everywhere. I picked the poor thing up by its tail. It let out a little squeak and blood dripped from its mouth. It was totally gross. I knew it wouldn’t live but I knew it would be tough for me to kill it to end its misery, too. It didn’t look like any of my rats. This one looked like a hooded or capped rat.

I awoke a little anxious, then I did my ET, acupuncture, ate and felt a little better. But these hacks only get me so far. 4-5 hours after I got up I took another lorazepam. Might as well use it while I have it when I need it. That’s what it’s here for. This stuff does quit working for the most part just like the shrink said, but it’s still better than nothing.

Still don’t know if I’m going to cancel the shrink appointment, but I have until November to decide. We did cancel Dr. A online and then they tried to call to reschedule. It will be rescheduled for next week after the lab and after she has my numbers. Again, A isn’t my probation officer and I’m not a child. I do what I want and their employees that work for me, as far as I’m concerned. They can quit working for me, but they can never make me do anything I don’t want to do.

Deleted my Facebook page because it lost its excitement rather quickly. There were only a couple of people into it, but even if there’d been a lot more, I’m more into collecting or pinning pictures than sharing them. I’m better at sharing words than images, though I do share some.

I also had a dream that we were renting our Maricopa house for a while, and this time it looked like it really did. I had the same mixed emotions about staying there as I always do in these dreams but knew we couldn’t stay. OMG, I can just imagine how much the Mexican drug cartel has fucked up that town by now!

MONDAY, JUNE 5, 2017
If there was ever any doubt that dyeing the hair makes it thinner, it’s gone now. I noticed I lost a lot in the shower, plus it feels thinner in front. If only I could convince myself to cut it off and stop dyeing it. Then again, it would be easier to dye if it was shorter; it would just be thinner. Brown-black is a wee bit too dark for me, but it should fade in a week or two. Maybe I’ll wait until I have 2-3” of regrowth, take my hair no higher than my shoulders (man cuts on women aren’t for me) and cut my bangs back. Long hair may look nice, but it really is a pain in the ass and I’m tired of all the shedded hairs around here that you normally don’t notice when they’re short. They love to get stuck in our robotic vacuum’s brush.

Nonetheless, my hair is in horrible condition and definitely needs to go. Will I look older and uglier with gray hair? Yes. Will my face look fatter with bangs? Yes. But comfort and ease are more important to me these days than appearance.

So, SO nice to be feeling better, even if I know it’s temporary. Yeah, yesterday was a rough day. PMS/periods during the perimenopause phase are a million times rougher than when you’re pre-perimenopausal. Insomnia and anxiety have been my best friends these last few days. I’m having an awful lot of days where I’m up longer and sleeping less, wishing for some of my old problems back that now don’t seem nearly as bad as they once did. I couldn’t even make it to the lab. There was no way I could get up after just three hours of sleep. My body just can’t do that anymore. Will go to the lab on Saturday instead, even if that means waiting an hour with lots of screaming brats.

My period is still going on, and just like I finally smartened up where women are concerned, I’ve smartened up where periods are concerned. I’m going to get a period every 2-3 months, probably for another 1-2 years, which means I’m going to feel like shit every few months, too. So yeah, my favorite month hasn’t exactly been off to a great start. Like I said, though, I am feeling a bit better. I really thought I would feel anxious throughout the night and tired, but I can’t say how I’ll feel later on. For now, I’ve taken advantage of my temporary energy to do some Spanish lessons and Bowflex exercises.

I had a dream that I met with my cousins Lori and Lisa somewhere. Lisa came up to greet me, stark naked, large body covered with tattoos. I knew she was making a statement… this is how I am and you better fucking accept it.

“Nice tats,” I told her, and it was true. They looked good whereas in real life I can tolerate a small tattoo here and there, but never cared for bodies that are plastered with them. Anyway, satisfied that she got her point across and received the approval she felt she needed, the dream ended with her slipping into a long coat-like dress.

SUNDAY, JUNE 4, 2017
If I’m counting right I’ve had 8 periods since May 2016. It’s normal to have 13 periods in a year. I still don’t see an end to this shit soon.

I was up for about 20 hours and slept for about 7, yet was horribly tired when I got up. Determined to live my life anyway, I got up and dyed my hair brown-black. It looks so much better, but it sure is fried.

I went from slightly wound up to depressed and even cried a little because I have such conflicted and mixed emotions about so many things. I have so many fears and worries. In many ways, my life is so much better and so much worse at the same time. I miss some aspects of my old life, be it back in the trailer, Oregon or Phoenix, but then there are some things about those times I certainly don’t miss at all. Some things were just easier when I was a kid or a young adult. When I would lie awake all night I may have known I was going to be tired when I had to get up for school, work or whatever, but I didn’t worry, like I would now, about how I would manage to get through the day and function on the lack of sleep.

I wish we had family close by, but am also glad we don’t. I feel like we need friends, but am afraid to trust just anyone. I know we could have run to Bob and Virginia for showers if we’d needed to when the hot water tank crapped out, but they’re not like Tammy and Mark either, or even like Mary and his mom once were to us.

And I know the Twenties would probably give us a ride if the car broke down, but they’re not like what Andy and Jessie once were to us. No idea what’s up with Jessie, BTW. I simply quit hearing from her.

I wish I could accept more things without questioning them, like why I am so fucking cold all of a sudden when it’s 77° in here. I miss the days when I lived more in the present and didn’t have the types of concerns and fears I have now. So yeah… life gets better but it also gets shittier. The asthma attacks I had for years might have sucked shit big time but they were very straightforward. The problem was in my lungs. Period. But this shit is affecting me both mind and body, in so many different ways, and with no end in sight.

I fear dying alone. I fear HIM dying alone. Okay I know it sounds silly as hell, and like Tom would say, we can’t change whatever’s going to happen anyway. But if there is an afterlife, sometimes I worry that if I have too much fun and happiness while I’m still alive that might mean I’m going to be compensated with more misery in the afterlife. Or maybe the afterlife will be so miserable no matter what just to show me that my worst of times here are a joke compared to what could happen there. I worry about the stupidest things, but then… are they really stupid? They could be very real fears for all I know. That’s what makes it so hard; the not knowing.

Got an appointment tomorrow at a lab we’ve never been to before at 4 PM. Since I don’t expect to be able to fall asleep before 9 AM, and am setting my alarm for 3:30, I’m sure I’ll be totally exhausted.

With my insomnia and sleep issues so much worse, Tom suggested I not take anything at all to sleep for the next two weeks as he believes that could be part of my problem. Yeah, that’s what the neurologist said. Having 2 caffeinated cups of coffee yesterday and a Sugar Babies K-cup close to bedtime probably wasn’t a good idea either.

I’ve been borderline anxious every day this month so far. See? It’s always at the beginning of the month, and getting a period definitely seems to trigger it.

After eating several things and then venting to Tom, I began to perk up. I’m sure I’ll still have a whole shitload of trouble falling asleep when I want to, and staying asleep when I finally do, as is usually the case these days.

Last night I had a dream I was in a private hospital room. It was nighttime and dark. Every now and then a nurse would enter the room and raise the bed to chest level. What they were checking or doing, I don’t know, but I awoke right before one of the next rounds and somehow reached the lever to raise the bed so the nurse wouldn’t have to bother with it. I was lying on my side the whole time and I never moved, but I could crank my head a bit and see on some machine that my pulse was only 45. It never goes that low in real life. His does, but mine never even goes under the 60s.

Anyway, when one of the nurses came into the room one time, she said something about how it was going to be a very warm day.

SATURDAY, JUNE 3, 2017
So once again the savage beasts have attacked London. And once again if we say anything against these monsters responsible for one attack after another, we’re “racists.” I dread the day they start bombing, knifing and plowing into cities here in the US regularly. But people are too afraid to pull their heads out of the sands of “political correctness.” Yeah, we can only say what the general population wants to hear about people. If you don’t have anything positive to say about them, no one wants to hear it. Wondering when the day will come when saying anything negative about rapists becomes a “hateful sin.”

Finished my 15-page story, Kinky Kathleen, which came to 5262 words. Now I’m sharing my older stories in my story account, which has once again changed names. The name I randomly drew was Maddy.

Last night I went for a quick bike ride that couldn’t have lasted more than seven or eight minutes. When I returned my heart was booming like a motherfucker and took forever to slow down. Instead of the ride perking me up and giving me energy, I crept a little too close to the border of being anxious.

Then I decided to give the clonidine a third and final chance. At first I wasn’t tired, just calmer. But then an hour and a half later, four hours before I was ready for bed, it knocked me out. And just like the other two times, I slept horribly. It seems I woke up every half hour. I finally got up at 6:30 AM, whined to Tom about it, then took a lorazepam. Before this, we checked my vitals, as we have been doing, and all was normal. Tom thinks I’m mostly anxious because I’ve got labs on Monday, and combination peri/period. So far it’s been mildly annoying and I hope it stays that way. Meaning if it’s not going to go away anytime soon, I hope it will at least not get any worse. I still don’t want the next time I communicate with Stacey to be face-to-face in her office.

I was horribly tired when I finally got up after noon but did manage to perk up a little bit. It just took 2 cups of coffee and forever to do it.

From now on I’m only taking my thyroid meds and lorazepam as needed. I’ve fucking had it with the medication game! I mean, yeah, it took the edge off my anxiety. But what good is it if it’s going to make me sleep shitty and leave me drowsy as fuck the next day?

Tom’s work schedule is really busy this next month so we’re going to bump Dr. A’s appointment up for next month. I really don’t need to see her for anything right now, anyway.

This period has been light so far, but like I said before, I’m trying to accept the fact that I’m never going to have the energy I once had, nor am I ever going to sleep as well as I once did. I’m just not getting any younger. Also, I could very well have another dozen or so periods to go before they finally stop. Might as well accept that, too.

Managed to go for a short walk, and was pleased to find that they dropped the price on the house with the really loud car from 130K to 125K. But with 3 for sale and 1 pending on this circle alone, there’s an excellent chance of one of the newcomers having a motorcycle. :(

I dreamt that Tom wanted to get another cat, and I tried to explain to him that another cat would only give me the same congestion and wheezing the last cat gave me.

FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 2017
Today I’m just the opposite of yesterday. Where yesterday I was exhausted with the double whammy of perimenopause and PMS, today I have lots of energy and motivation. Of course I still worry about the anxiety returning, especially when I feel a bit on edge like I did last night. While the EMDR has made some things easier (certain things seem less scary and you become desensitized in a sense so you don’t get as emotional), a medical scare can make some things harder. The slightest “off” feeling and I get worried something could be wrong. In the past, I would simply notice it, but now it causes me to worry. Oh well. Something I gotta work on, I guess.

Tammy let me know she was alive and thinking of me on Facebook, and then I noticed I could no longer schedule groups of four pictures to my page. Now I can only schedule single pics. I can still do it in a way that doesn’t cause me to have to see any more of the newsfeed than I already do, thus continuing to be annoyed by all the repetition out there.

Last night I dream Tammy and I were staying in a hotel somewhere. We went down to the hotel’s restaurant and they kept messing up my order. I had to send the damn thing back twice. Tammy went to use the restroom when a now snotty waitress handed me my plate a third time, which contained barely half of what I ordered.

I got up to find where the waitress had run off to and found her sitting at a table with her hands covering her face in an attempt to hide from me. “I know it’s you,” I told her, but she ignored me.

I would never do this in real life, but finally fed up, I threw the plate across the restaurant like a Frisbee. I then ran toward the restroom where Tammy had emerged from and told her to hurry up and follow me to the room because we had to go, promising to explain what happened in the car. So my disabled sister managed to keep up with me at about 6 MPH back to the room. Just when I thought she was packing things in the bathroom, she starts taking a shower. I was irritated because I wanted to leave before they got a chance to kick us out, LOL.

I guess I was young and single in another dream because I was involved in some dating service or something like that. I went to meet a woman at her apartment and I found her to be an immediate turn-off. Not just because she was a smoker but also because she had a cigarette in both hands. Yeah, a definite turn-off.

Becky’s about to turn 30. 30 years old and still living with her sister after what’s been at least half a decade. Their happiness is all that matters, but I still can’t help but wonder if she or Sarah are ever going to meet anyone and move in with them.

Heard that car return after 5 PM from work, so I’m sure it’s going to take off again any minute unless it slipped out while I was under the headphones.

THURSDAY, JUNE 1, 2017
It’s June! My favorite month. This month is our anniversary, his birthday, and the start of summer. June has always been my favorite month.

The clonidine has proven to be pretty worthless so far. I don’t think it helps me fall asleep faster. I don’t sleep as sound when I take it and I’m a little groggy the next day. If I get anxious again, it might be good for that, but I would rather not find out.

I had spotting last night after 2.5 months, so that sucks. I’m probably in for a full-blown period within a day or two.

I’m not working out as much these days. I’m just too tired too much of the time. I know I risk falling out of shape and gaining weight, but I just don’t have the energy anymore. I sleep too shitty too often.

Debating whether or not I want to finish combing through old journals and sharing the highlights. It’s just SOOO much work.

Having fun with my page, even though I don’t expect to ever have more than a few members. I’ve got posts queued up all the way through the middle of the month. I don’t have to do anything but sensor anything that comes in.

After Aly dumped me for being honest enough to warn her about Kim (among other things I was “too blunt” about), I was so hurt and angry that I hoped that Kim would turn around and dump her and give her a taste of her own medicine. Now that this has actually happened, I’m not sure how I feel. I will never understand why some people care about those that don’t care about them while they don’t give a damn about those that do care. What is it about some people that draws them to abusive lovers and toxic friends??? Especially when they should be smart enough to know better. I think they’ll patch things up soon enough, though, because they need each other to feed off of. Kim needs Aly to help her with the things she’s not smart enough to do on her own, and Aly needs Kim because she thrives on toxicity.

I only remember a few seconds from one dream last night. I don’t know whose baby it was, but I took some baby to the ER that was sick or something. The doctors and nurses examined it as I watched on fearfully. Only the baby wasn’t fat and chubby like a real baby. Instead, it looked like a miniature adult that couldn’t have been more than a foot long, if even that.

Later…

This constant fatigue is so hard to live with at times that this is what I mean when I say I have mixed emotions about not being able to work a regular job. As if my fucked up schedule isn’t bad enough. Having just 2-3 days a week that I feel awake enough to do things really limits my activities and I’m finding it more and more frustrating. But I’m not going to get any younger, so I better get used to it, accept it for what it is, and plan on not having much energy most days. I’m tired. Period. And I’m never going to sleep as well as I did when I was younger or have the energy I used to have. I also need to accept the fact that I may still have many more periods to go.

Still hear that car at least four times a day because even though they do appear to be working, they come and go in the evening as well. I don’t understand what can’t be picked up or done on the way home from work. I would think most people wouldn’t want to go out a second time after being out for 11 hours. Their fucking house is never going to sell either, but I wonder if they’re deliberately stalling to piss the park off. If they got kicked out, that might be the case.

Anyway, I miss the days when my sleep was usually shorted only because I had an appointment. After I got out of the apartments where neighbors were waking me up, I had a lot more energy in Arizona, and even Oregon, compared to now. My health has gone totally to shit since moving into this house. I sure feel like it has at times.

I’m nearly in tears right now because all I want is just to sleep normally and be awake most days of the week. I miss that so much. But it’s been harder to cry since being EMDR’d. I’m tired, I’m worried, and it’s got me really bummed out. Tom thinks it’s the double whammy of having peri and PMS, and I hope he’s right. I hope nothing else is wrong with me. Every possibility went through my mind last night… adrenal gland suppression, the clonidine, something else. Still worry the anxiety’s going to return, too.

It used to be that if I woke up a little tired I tended to perk up within a few hours, but not anymore. I’m WAY more impacted by lack of sleep/shitty sleep than I used to be. I feel like an old lady too often as far as my sleep and energy go. It is so, so very frustrating to have to spend so much time in bed and know there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.