I don't think my meds are working. Or rather, they're working, just not as effectively as they used to, and they need to be adjusted. I'm having more frequent depressive episodes, and stronger ones, that are lasting longer, and that's no kinda good. In the past few years I've fallen out of the habits I used to have to manage my episodes -- I'm not nearly as dissociative; I no longer try to split myself up into my thinking brain and my feeling brain so that I can ignore the latter and do whatever the former tells me needs to get done. There are other little tricks I used to use, but writing them down here makes me feel self-conscious, and like I might be crazier than I want to admit.
I realize that this is the second negative-sounding blog post in a row, but I want to emphasize here that when I'm not having a depressive episode, things really are okay. Money has been tight over the summer, but Gamerboy is working again now that the semester's started. We have a new creative project that we're working on together, and that we're both very excited about. I've been feeding two different colonies of feral cats, one who hangs around at the hotel and one who's nearby, at the local walgreens, and so far I've only come across one unspayed female (who just had a litter of kittens; she gets extra food while she's nursing, and I hope to catch her for fixing around the end of september).
I haven't been doing a whole lot of knitting, despite having two main projects that I really want to get done. One is Frost Flowers and Leaves, that incredibly old project I over half a decade ago, who is now intended for Ivy and named George. I've got 11 rows to go plus the edging, so in theory I know I should be chugging along towards that finish line! The other project is a boob hat for my friend AllGreek2Me, who is so close to popping out her first child that we've arranged a betting pool. Neither of these projects are taxing, but I haven't been working much on either of them, because of my wrist.
It turns out that Cysty is not, in fact, a ganglion cyst. My old doctor in Aggieland tried to drain him (which is the way to go for ganglions), and no dice. Instead of being filled with the people-jelly that he should have been, he's just a solid motherfucking mass, who is putting increasing amounts of pressure on the bones, nerves, and tendons of my dominant hand. I can't bend my hand back or forward beyond 40 degrees without pain, and I can't lift anything above 10 lbs if it involves using my wrist to do it. I know I need to see a doctor about this, and CLEARLY about my meds, and I'm hoping that within this next month that will become a possibility again. Gamerboy's folks found oil on their land, and they want to do something nice for each of their children, and in our case that might end up being hand surgery. In the meantime, I'm taking things as easy as I can stand, and seriously considering teaching myself to write right-handed.
Wow, again, this post sounds super depressing. I had an episode tonight (as you might've guessed), but I'm feeling fine now. I swear, things are mostly good. Gamerboy and I found a driving route that is full of oddly suburban deer (and well-grazed lawns), and we like to go by there at dawn or dusk. Sometimes we'll go down to the park, and throw them peanuts and bread, which amazingly enough they accept from us, as will the squirrels and the ducks. I feel happy when wild creatures trust me enough to eat what I offer them, which is probably why I feed the outside cats... all 7-10 of them, depending on the night.
I don't recall if I've mentioned it here or not, but I started a small nail polish company, Just The Tip. I was getting in lots of micas and pigments to make my own, and Gamerboy suggested I give it a shot as a business venture. It hasn't exploded with activity by any stretch of the imagination, but it does a steady bit of business, and I enjoy it. I'm currently wearing two different colors, one a duochrome red-pink that flashes into orange, and the other a milk chocolate with a strong violet shimmer. I ought to take pictures of both of them, and put them up on the shop, but I'll probably wait until the weekend for that. I wasn't able to sleep yesterday, and tomorrow is my tough day, so I need to get as much rest in as I can.
I'm rambling now. It's because I'm tired. I have another hour and a half at work, then half an hour to feed and visit with the outside cats, and then I'll go to bed. I'm glad that I wrote this post, because it's probably a good idea to keep a record of when my depressive episodes happen and around how long they last -- this one was about two hours.
Hmm... the breakfast staff have started to open things up at work. I think I know how I'm going to spend the rest of my shift.