ack. here it is, 4:23 am, and i’m still awake. not good. i’ve been on this schedule for awhile, and it’s been kicking my ever livin’ ass. especially since flan decides it’s just not a good idea for me to stay in bed and wants me to get up around 10 am. and really doesn’t want me to say in bed past noon. good idea on her behalf, but if i go to bed at 4, noon is only 8 hours and really shitty hours according to my circadian rhythm.
the therapist and i have talked about it and it’s same old, same old. can’t/won’t take meds on time. but now another factor has creeped in — i’ve re-applied for my patient assistance, but now i’m waiting for some meds to come in. and so i’m rationing what sleep meds i *do* have, and it’s making all the difference in the world. right now, i think i’m depressed … and i also know that i’m manic. or getting there. i can feel myself right now, clenching my jaw like a madwoman.
this blows, because i was very spoiled with my old psy. he always had samples available and so if i was running low like now, i could have called him up and gotten some stuff to at least tide me over. making things worse, this place doesn’t know me from adam, and they’ve got all their stuff typed into this very hardcore computer system, so they are very strict about going by this system. problem is, when you go by a computer, it’s garbage in/garbage out. so, they are telling me i’m going to run out of seroquel on 12/9 — but i never even told the doctor how much seroquel i had at home. we never discussed it. they put that in the computer, i assume, because it was 30 days from my first appointment with him. same with my wellbutrin. i needed a script from the doctor inbetween appointments, and at first they were like … “you won’t run out of meds until ___ — this date.” and it’s like … well, we never even talked about my wellbutrin script. i am paying for that one myself. but since he checked off some box on the computer (most likely because we had *discussed the script,* but not how much i had or when i’d run out), they showed that i was running out 30 days after i saw the doc. and so, at first or second or third explanation (depending on who i was talking to), it’s … “well, the computer says.”
yes. i know what the fucking computer says. it’s wrong. i didn’t even talk to the doctor about this. he checked off a box because of this, and now the computer says this, but the reality of the situation is really THIS. kay? the thing that really sort of pisses me off (now, that DOES really piss me off) is that these meds are just lame old meds. seroquel and wellbutrin are not exciting, substance abuse drugs. they’re no benzodiazepines. no xanax, klonopin, valium, concerta, ritalin, etc. there’s no incentive for me to try and scam them out of more. there’s no way i’m going to get high off them or get a bonus selling wellbutrin on the streets. so, it’s sort of annoying to be treated like a kid who has to be watched at every turn, lest i fuck up my meds or something.
i’m telling you — i was living high on the hog. i was being treated by the director of addiction psychiatry at northwestern memorial hospital. i had it really fucking good, and i never once forgot it. i just wish i could call them up and ask for his personal email or something. there’s no way in hell they’d give it to me, but a girl can dream, right? or if i could send a letter in the hopes they’d forward it on to him…
sigh. in the meantime, this finds me gritting my teeth (literally) and hoping this extra 1/2 of seroquel will start kicking in. and praying that flan leaves me the hell alone tomorrow morning. oddly enough, if i sleep on the couch, i think that will buy me some sort of reprieve. i don’t know why — but then i compromise a less comfortable sleeping spot for more actual sleeping time. oh, flannie. oh, manic-depression. kay, night.