I am afraid to write. I don't know what to do. I crashed. I figured I would, the depression lifting was too good to be true. I not only went back to depression but to suicidal depression. My only waking thoughts are so negative I am afraid to say them out loud.
What's worse, I feel sick constantly. Sick to my stomach, copious amount of vomiting. Major headaches; sinus variety and migraine. Period cramps off the chart. Back aches and muscle fatigue. I suppose my body is adjusting, but to what I don't know. Perhaps an alien being has taken over in my head. Or will emerge out of my stomach, like the alien did to John Hurt in that eponymous movie.
My Axis 1 diagnosis has changed- it has over the last three years gone from "Bipolar One", to "Bipolar One/Schizoaffective" and now to "Schizophrenia". I don't believe in labels, but the medications I am on - trouble me. I found out that as of next month (July) I fall in the proverbial "donut hole" with them and it's going to wipe out my savings to be on them. I would just as soon be off them- I think people are starting to think that too- (Hallelujah!) but like I said, I've gotten worse where I cannot take care of myself anymore. Yes, that's back again. And to make matters worse, the State is inspecting the entire apartment complex, something they haven't done since the Nixon administration when the apartments were built. It's nothing major, they need to check the electrical, and other things. And if they see how badly I've gone in the last two weeks, I know I will be evicted, and I know they will probably advice I go to a state hospital. And if that happens I will loose my cat, my best friend. But the weird thing is, I don't care. It's like I am the reincarnation of Bartleby the Scrivener. Other than not having the cat with me, I don't care.
Put me up in front of the firing squad like that prisioner last week in Utah. I might as well be dead.
There is always hope. I could cycle back up and fix everything. Superman- could come and save the day. Or if this was a Disney movie, the cat would get her friends to come and help me clean. But this isn't a Disney movie, this is real life, and I am too paranoid right now to write anymore. I hope it gets better soon. I just want my old life back.