Feeling sorry for myself

I've reached a slight breaking point.  I'm so tired of not feeling well.  I can't find food that doesn't make me feel more sick, yet being hungry makes things worse too.  I'm drinking as much as I can but not enough.  I'm so tired and my head hurts, which is just another part of this.  I'm tired of Thanksgiving being crappy.  2 years ago I was not eating most food because of nausea starting Emsam.  Last year I couldn't be near my niece because of whooping cough.  I spent the day with a fever of 100 plus and was miserable.  This year I'm going to be sleeping, being bored, and dealing with all the effects of what my body has been through.  Those remain unpredictable but seem to include nausea/stomach cramps, muscle aches, headaches, extreme fatigue, mood swings, some dizziness, a little clumsiness (nearly walked into a wall at Dr. Mind's office), and did I mention fatigue?  I am better with most of these than I was except the ones that started since I got toxic.  Oh, and anxiety.  That is beyond out of control, I'm sure because of missing meds in the hospital, but I keep taking meds every few hours (different kinds) and they aren't helping.

I need to quit facebook right now.  I keep seeing friends and family and all these neat things and "oh my kids are so cute" and I want so badly to tell about what my life is really like right now. I remember being in the "safe room" in the  ER and wishing I had a smartphone so I could shock everyone (Jen's Status: Did you know if you are hallucinating when you go to the ER you jump over everyone else for triage then are triaged immediately back to a special safe room for potentially psychotic patients?  Well, I do!  Right now they keep peeping past the curtain to check on me.  They think I don't notice.  This room has nothing so I can't hurt myself.  What a learning experience!") "Well, IVs are running rapidly to flush the lithium out of my body.  I keep getting to pee in a bathroom with no door lock!")  "oh good, I have a bed"."hmmm, no meds for another hour.  1 AM is a great time to take my 9 pm meds!"  "What do you do when they won't give you an antipsychotic and you're hallucinating?"  "My roommate is talking about preparing 60 lbs of chicken for Thanksgiving!" (she later changed to chitlains when she was less drugged.  she had dementia but she was interesting.  Dr. Brain called me and in the midst she was screaming about something.  Dr. Brain asked what THAT was; I said "my roommate".  Later she wished me good night and said she hoped my roommate would be calm.  My roommate wanted a turkey and cheese sandwich and morphine every few minutes until I fell too soundly asleep to hear anymore.  Granted my yelling on the phone didn't help her calm down but sheesh.)  "Guess what?  I peed 74 oz in the last hour!  That's why I need my meds, stupid people!"

I'm feeling bitter and angry and afraid right now.  I feel like I used to, that this disease is out to ruin my life and that I'm never going to be able to do the things I love (like work) again.  Every time I think I'm improving something else happens.  I'm so tired of it.  Yet nothing stops it.  At this point my brain chemistry is so incredibly screwed up I have no idea how we'll ever get it back to working again.  It's no wonder I didn't notice the symptoms of toxicty before they got so bad I was hallcinating; I have so much constant shifting in how I feel and can eaisly blame anything physical on the meds attacking me that I noticed nothing.

I have to take my pills.  I was hoping to get rid of some nausea first but it isn't to be.  So, here we'll all fire to fire.

I'm sorry this is so bitter.  I've more than had it.  And things get even better as Dr. Brain is off work for some time that I'm not clear on after next week.  I can't imagine any of these last months without her.

I hate this, I hate me, I hate the doctors who made me feel like this.  I hate that my brain is so dependent on meds to function and that missing meds leads to me hating myself.  I'm tired of being scared.

I want to be better.