I could rant but IDGAF

[railenthe]

Ever had one of those days where you just couldn’t work up a good amount of “give a fuck?”  Well, today is one of those days for me.

 

It’s not like anything went badly at work, or even here at home (well, excepting the return of the gross drip of the pipe over my bathroom).  I just…really don’t feel like much of anything.  I could write, but…eeh.  There’s reading, but I’m feeling unfocused.  I could watch TV, but…blah.

 

In short, I’ve been hit with the IDGAF [I Don’t Give A Fuck] stick.

 

It extends to the fact that I kinda feel like being social, but also don’t feel like doing anything.

 

I’m noticing some irony in the programming on tonight.  Since the…event…came back to me I’ve been watching more Law and Order: SVU than I used to.  SVU’s plotlines focus on sex-related crimes.  I enjoy the show, and since discovering that it does not trigger me, I’ve figured, “Eh, we’ll run with it.”

 

I’m still having weird mood swings, but they’re not as extreme as they have been.   I’m not about to jinx it by saying that I’m getting better faster—the last time I thought that, I wound up in the loony bin again, and it’s a pattern I’d like to get out of.

 

I don’t know if I can use my family as a support system anymore.  They’re a little too adamant about getting me off of the pills altogether—in fact, they’re implicating the pills as the source of my  condition.  I’m sorry, but if you’re going to do that to me, folks, I can’t continue to deal with you.

 

To top it off, I finally weaseled the truth out of my dad regarding some family history: it was way, way down the line and evidently skips a few generations, but there is schizoid pattern in the family history.  So as far as I know, I might just be mildly schizophrenic after all—at any rate, my age is around the time it begins to manifest, so if it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen.  …keep in mind that this is merely a theory I’ve got: I’m running off the family history and the way they’ve changed my meds around.  And you know what’s funny about it?

 

I’m not so sure I even care.  If it happens, it happens.  I just have to worry about taking care of myself while I get ready to take action.  I’m gonna get a single espresso with cream and a sandwich now.  Take my meds, try to relax a bit.  I still don’t feel quite ready to return to being more actively online—I don’t know if I can do the complex thinking involved in having a conversation that doesn’t involve answers to the question “Do you hear the voices today?” [For the record, today that answer’s ‘no.’]  But I’m not going to beat myself up over it this time around.