Here we go!

Well, the crunch is on. I have 35 minutes to blog before jumping in the shower and racing off to work 12 rather than 4 hours. Oy! So, I suppose it's a good thing I was a slug and decided to sleep today. That would have made or an overnight shift for which even Starbucks had no cure! lol

I'm frantically looking for the rest of the meds that I want to take before dashing off to work. I really need to find a better system for organizing the 3 to 4 dozen bottles of prescriptions, vitamins, and other assorted OTC meds that I take.

The week has proved to be long. I am quite depressed. Clinically depressed, not just feeling miserable type of depressed. Plenty of the feeling miserable is included, but it's not the root cause of the suicidal ideations; just adds to them, unfortunately.

Guess it's time for some medication adjustment and some therapy. (Mike Muir begins to sing inside my head. Google Infectious Grooves if you don't get that reference.)

At least, the additional hours will go on next week's paycheck. That's a plus. The thought of that 40-hour check was beginning to cause some serious anxiety which doesn't help my current mental status at all. I can't even think about income and bills right now. It has gotten that bad. Oh fuck, I hate being at the mercy of the rheumatoid that precipitates the manifestation of most of this shit that stresses me out to this point. I can't sleep for days at a time, even with medication, so why bother to take the drugs that serve to do nothing (at that point) other than make me sluggish and constipated. So, I'll live on nicotine and caffeine until I'm at the point of exhaustion, take a couple of melatonin and a Flexeril, and sleep for the better part of a day. That was my bedtime regimen at 3am this morning. I can't eat. Actually, I don't even think to eat. Two or three days pass, and it will occur to me that I haven't eaten. I've managed to lose 5 of the pounds that the last round of steroids packed on my ass within the last week though, so it isn't all bad.

And, those who know me find themselves wondering why I've chosen to go back to being atheist at this point. My response of, I can do badly on my own so why am I in need of a god to help? does seem to communicate to them where I'm standing at this point.

Hindolo has probably been the most supportive and willing to give me plenty of room and not press the issue at this point. Losing both of his parents in the civil war in Sierra Leone when he was so young has given him both perspective and position to understand what I'm going through. (Though honestly, I cannot begin to fathom what he has been through, and I feel my own crises to pale in comparison to what he has survived.) Val, who lived thorough World War 2 in Italy as a young woman and who also has rheumatoid arthritis, has pretty much taken up position beside him. So, I'm not without a support system, which is good because I am still convicted that I owe a serious and heart-felt apology to anyone that I've told to trust in and rely on God over the years of my being Christian. And, then there's Al, my fellow former cult victim, who let the argument drop with.... though he slay me, yet will I praise him. Val gave him kudos for that one. (Just so you know, Al, because I know you read this mess! lol)

Time to jump and run. More in the morning if I don't decide to crash the car on the way home.