Forget Your Troubles, Come On Get Happy
you may be surprised to hear that i was functional enough to call my shrink about this new development. "gee, doc. i've been spending a lot of time crying my bum off. whaddaya think about that?" his response? hospital. yes, hospital.
when you are in the hospital they can monitor you more closely meaning that they can hook you up with the really strong meds. when you aren't in the hospital they have to slowly ramp you up on any chosen medication so that they don't give you a heart attack or land you in a coma. in the hospital they can jack up the doses because there is round the clock nursing staff to take your blood pressure and monitor your lack of motor ability, etc. etc. etc.
do i want to go in the hospital? that's a loaded question, my friend. i don't want to go in the hospital because it will throw the feeble balance i've been able to maintain completely off kilter. if i'm mismanaging my bidness now, you have to believe that going into the hospital would have see me throwing my hands up in the air and allowing fate to take over. that sounds nice but fate won't be paying my bills or explaining things to my roommates, boss or co-workers. going into the loony bin again will throw off my schedule here at work making it that much harder to come back.
on the other hand, i can't tell you that the hospital doesn't look like the freaking emerald city. it really truly does. imagine having someone worry about when you eat and making sure you get enough sleep. you are forced to make arts and crafts every day. you don't have to do your job or drive your car which has lately become so full of fumes that it's completely toxic.
it sounds wonderful but i don't like the idea of giving up. that's what it feels like. it doesn't feel like a solution, it feels like a surrender.
so i probably won't do it and instead will keep my appointment with the doc for next week. in the meantime, no mascara for this girl.
