It’s 1:15 AM. I’m awake. I’m not happy with this little fact. I’m stressed with trying to get my visa transfer taken care of, moving and all the other crap that goes along with changing jobs. I got the guilt trip from my grandmother the other day when I called to wish her happy birthday. I get she wants me to come home. She doesn’t get I don’t want to.
It’s stuffy in here and my stupid air conditioner isn’t working. My toilet has been plugged up for 3 days and calls to the landlord go unanswered. I’m pissed at the world, in general.
I’ve been tapering down off the Zoloft on my docs reccomendation because it’s giving me RLS like symptoms at night. I can feel the dark clouds closing in along with the anxiety. He’s not a psychiatrist so he doesn’t want to prescribe something else. Hell, he didn’t want to prescribe Zoloft in the first place. He had only ever used Prozac. Trust me, Prozac and me didn’t get along. I refuse to even try it again. I’d rather not repeat the insanity of weeks with little to no sleep culminating in a trip to the loony bin.
Is it even worth trying to get into a psychiatrist here? I’m moving in 3 weeks. I feel like banging my head against the wall. For the first time in quite a long time, I’ve been having SI urges. That’s why I’m here typing this. It’s been too long for me to go back to that particular coping mechanism.
I feel like a whiny little brat right now. So I guess I’ll just stick my head under the shower to cool off. Hopefully it won’t set up a trigger cascade.
*thinks positive thoughts*
Then I’ll go grab a kitty and get her to snuggle for a while.