Let It Rain

I'm tired of keeping track of the serialized day of my treatment and - hopefully - recovery. From now, the posting date will have to suffice.

I'm a few minutes late on the morning lithium. Son Chris and daughter-in-law Jen were rousted from sleep and assigned their own baby as well as grandson Aiden, who is spending a few days with us (his mom, daughter KC having decided that mobile homes are not a safe place for infants during major thunderstorms) while Mary sleeps in. She had a rough night, a bit of food poisoning perhaps, and I want her to rest today.

So far today things are OK, but we'll see how things progress after the AM dose. Yesterday I was fine most of the day, only one brief tearful moment, until soon after I took the evening pills. Then it was Sob City, but only for a few minutes. For one thing, I realized I was thinking Happy Thoughts (eg, "I sure do love this time of day, with my family snuggled in asleep, and Mary and I snuggled in, just listening to the grandbabies little grandbaby noises..") and moved my thoughts to something more neutral.

Mary and I went downtown yesterday and applied for counseling/therapy sessions at Family Services, a local charity which helps mostly low-income families. It's a wonder to me that we were referred there by the local psychiatric hospital, whose personnel seemed a bit confused with how to handle a cold-call from a bipolar person. I know Doc was no help; he didn't have any suggestions for counseling/therapy at all, and appeared puzzled that I'd even want such.

Anyway, we filled out a lot of papers and turned them back in with supporting documentation, and we are supposed to hear back from them in one to three weeks. Let's hope it's more like one week.

I still don't think anyone understands that I've been on the roller-coaster most, if not all of my life. I don't know what normal is. I'm lost here. And, due to my latest several-year (apparently) high, our life here is a shambles. There are a lot a pieces to pick up.

Better go hit the lithium.