On Thursday, November 13, I found myself taking everything I own out into the rain, where it was then taken to another apartment. I'm meant to fill in the space in the same manner as I did before, or at least in a way that won't offend anyone. So far I'm doing well. Linda and I did most of the work, as my father is weak and somewhat ill, and age 76.
I underestimated the emotional impact that this move would have on me. More than a couple of times, I totally fucking freaked out. Like tear your shirt off "Bruce Banister" style freaked out.
But enough of that. Those episodes where I lose control and become very self destructive are rare, but they leave a feeling of distrust and sadness behind. And for me, guilt. I've started taking Effexor again, and it seems to be quite efficacious. A proper lithium level has been restored, and that has helped with depression, as well. If need be, I'll tap into my reserves of Risperdal, a potent but highly undesirable anti-psychotic. With me, it causes flu-like feelings and headache with chills. I'd rather that than telling my girlfriend that I want her to kill me.
Going back into a psych ward was something for me to consider. But I couldn't think of how I would benefit. I've been so many times, after all. So I took some lorazepam, slept, and found myself again over time. Both my girlfriend Linda and my father said, "It's so good to have you back." the day after my mania stopped. I wept like a babe when I found heard them say both exactly the same thing, a couple of hours apart. Linda got the tears as she said it second.
A kind gentleman left some information in a comment for me to consider about lithium. I'm going to look at it. I'm confident that lithium has worked well for me these past 8 years. But with lithium toxicity being such a concern, I can see how there would be many bad stories about lithium poisoning.
Tonight I'm battling a rather nasty cold. So much to talk about, but I feel strongly compelled to shed my clothes and seek the warmth of my other self under the covers on the bed behind me. Sleeping with the woman you love is an accidental gift of wondrous exctasy in a random universe. I'm fond of it.