Days alive: 12,159
Friends I’ve run into today: 2
Plot twists considered: 3
Today has been odd. I’m unbelievably sad. Can’t seem to keep smiling for real so I’ve screwed one on and tried to make it through the day.
I was rewarded, though.
Category: Tired
A belated introduction to being me…
Let me start off with being completely and frankly honest: I don’t know how well I’ll do with this blog long term.
Quills, Pills, and Cat Hair: Life as a Witch
Days alive: 12,156
Phone calls made at work: 51
Times I’ve had to fight the cat off the blanket I’m crocheting: 3
Times I’ve shared my post for witches: 4
Amount of terror I’m feeling: A LOT.
I did this to myself. I was like “let me write out a book of shadows or something for Mimi. She’ll like it, it’ll be quick and easy!”
Narrator: “Spoilers: it isn’t.”
Continue reading “Quills, Pills, and Cat Hair: Life as a Witch”
Insomnia Interlude 3
Days alive: 12,156.01
Headaches: 1
Hours slept: 3.5
Alarm goes off: 6:25am
I was really hoping for a good nights sleep. But alas, a headache.
Hopefully I can get back to sleep here shortly. The cats are being exceedingly cuddly right now. So that does help a bit.
I would read, but my eyes hurt from this damn headache.
Oh well.
At least I got to have some goofy adventures with J today. Never underestimate the power of faffing off at Target for a bit.
Toasty and Tired
Days alive: still 12,153
Bits slightly sunburnt: 2 breasts and my nose
Joints in pain: every single one
Naps taken in car: 1
Laps done in the lazy river: 5
So, home again, home again, jiggity jig. My entire body is screaming from the amount of activity o forced it through today. Every joint is aching in protest and I’m pretty sure that I managed to toast my tits halfway to lobster despite repeated exposure of SPF 50 and 75.
Sleepless by the Yarnside
I’ve been two days straight without sleep now. As in, two solid days awake. The new medication is really screwing with me.
Sleep Depo Hell
Days alive: no clue.
Hours awake: lost count.
I still have barely slept. I think my total is less than six hours for this week. My hands won’t stop shaking and I’m so tired my chest aches like I’ve gotten into a bar fight and lost-badly.
I feel like the terrible ice cream cone that’s melting faster than anyone can eat it. Like I’m just dissolving into a pile of useless, colorful goo.
It me.I’m trying to power through. I’m trying to keep going. But I also called my doctor for help because I absolutely can’t continue like this.
Pray for me, and pray that sleep is no longer an evasive bastard.
Edit: typos fixed. I think?
Insomnia Interlude 2
Days alive: 12,149.5
Hours awake: 45 and change.
I was hoping to sleep well tonight. Not so, I guess. New med still screwing with my sleep schedule. Maybe I’ll get some rest tomorrow night.
It was a chill, restful evening after a stomach churning levels of stressful day at work. I’m hoping things will get better soon. I keep wildly vacillating between braking into tears and being so bloody manic/upbeat/cheerful I want to strangle myself just to save everyone else from it.
In other news, I found this gorgeous feather outside of work today. 
I don’t know diddly squat about birds, so I haven’t the foggiest what it could belong to other than “bird”.
Anyway. I’m going to try to sleep at least a little. Or just stare at the inside of my eyelids until my alarm goes off.
Insomnia Interlude 1
Days alive: 12,148.8
Hours awake: 22 hours, 17 minutes.
As I was born in the wee hours of the morning, it hasn’t quite yet been another full day, I suppose.
I can’t sleep.
Not that much a shock, as I’m still adjusting to the new meds. I even spoke to the cute pharmacist today, to see his opinion on adjusting the timing. He agreed that taking it at the morning was likely best for me with how I’ve been reacting to it.
I think the worst part is the fear that’s is another manic episode. Because I’m running on scant hours of sleep and yet I’m not all that tired. I wake up obnoxiously awake, as my coworker enjoyed telling me today. I was too cheerful for Monday.
Meanwhile, my mind is literally screaming incoherently for hours on end and no amount of anti-anxiety meds seem to be of assistance. I can’t focus to save my life and all I want is a good night’s sleep and to be able to focus. Neither seems possible right now. But I have my follow up on the tenth and I’ll make it till then. It’s not like I’ve not gone a fortnight on seven hours of sleep before.
New Week, Better Grip
Days alive: 12,148
Current number of ebooks: 4,182
Hours slept: about four
Number of lipsticks I own: 81 (estimated. I actually have no idea because I can’t find them all.)
I haven’t been sleeping. So I’ve done a bit of research. I know a little more about my diagnosis. Still not happy about it, but I can’t seem to quite put into words why I am so upset. It’s frustrating because I try to explain that while I understand that life may be a little easier with treatment now that a specific problem/source has been identified, but I still don’t like the diagnosis at all.
Day Three: Lost in the Forest
Days alive: 12,144
Hours slept: > 4
Number of Llewelyn Almanacs: 26
Number of ebooks on kindle: 4,182
Number of ebooks on wishlist: 387
Still tired today. Still feeling small and maladjusted. Still adjusting to the new meds something fierce. I was told, initially, to take them at night since they might have a soporific effect. And, my delightful brain being as it is, said noperoni and cheese to that idea.
Down the Rabbit Hole: Day One.
Days Alive: 12,142.
Pain Number: 4
Hours Slept: 4
Number of unnecessary notebooks purchased today: 1
Chicken nuggets eaten: 19 (I dropped one.)
Days Since Diagnosis: 0
I’m not doing great today. I’m not cheerful. I’m not well rested or ecstatic to be alive.
I got a diagnosis today that I hate. Not cancer. I guess I can be glad about that. And it’s likely the answer to the issues I’ve been having since I have been old enough to know I’ve had problems. Finally having a name possible name for the jabberwocky on my back is an interesting sensation.
Postmark Wonderland 