The last few days have been interesting and busy. I have started my partial inpatient program. It is going pretty well. I share more than I thought I would. Mostly the sharing is helpful but today was disastrous. More about that later. On Tuesday we signed the boys up for traditional public school and then they started on Wednesday. They both love it. Getting them up and ready in the morning has been stressful but not as bad as I had expected. The kids have all been sick but Lily is the last one hanging onto it. I have managed to avoid it all together, thank God. My doc upped my seroquel which is very obviously helping with the suicidal/self-damaging thoughts and impulses. Tonight I start an additional anti-depressant called Wellbutrin. It is supposed to boost my dopamine which is not being boosted by the Effexor.
Probably the most interesting thing that has happened is that my sister called an Exorcist. it turns out that the priest who married my husband and I is one of only two priests in my diocese who performs deliverances and exorcisms. I, of course, will not have an exorcism but a deliverance. I am not clear on the distinctions and differences in the ceremonies but I do know that deliverance is for an oppression where exorcism is for a full possession. So that will happen on Sunday. If you are the praying type, feel free to join the service from afar around 2pm PST.
Back to today being horrible. It started yesterday. I am in a great deal of pain. I think the pain has a hormonal/menstrual source, though I am still not cycling. I think I am going to have to give in and make a GYN appointment :-( I don't want to know. I don't want to know that I am carrying an organized clot (which I think I am) and, more, I don't want to find out I cannot have any more children (which I think is likely as my system has been screwed up for years now). Today in one group the leader and a member started spouting off about how selfish suicide is and how she'll never forgive her brother for doing it and on and on. I actually got up and walked out. Not my most mature moment but I could not handle it anymore at that moment. They were going on and on about how life isn't that bad and how it makes other people hurt just to alleviate your own pain. Well, kiss my ass, pardon my French. I do not want to die because I am in pain. I want to die because it would make my loved ones' lives better. And while some people never get over suicide, my family is Catholic and our faith teaches us that suffering can be offered up and unify us with Christ on the cross. "Don't waste your suffering!" as John Paul the Great said. So then after doing myself a little damage I sat in the sunshine and just breathed. I was proud of myself for not running into the street, which was my primary impulse. When I had collected myself I went back in only to be sidetracked by my psychologist account manager. We talked for a long time, which was cathartic and helpful. She helped reframe some of the "fruitier" aspects of the DBT program they are teaching me. Then we ended the day with a "mindfulness exercise" involving Pop Rocks. I giggled like a little kid. I felt more myself in that moment than I have in a very long time. I decided to pick up some Pop Rocks on my way home but none of the stores I checked sold them. You would not believe how much that depressed me. I just crawled in bed when I got home. I wish I was there now in all honesty.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
God Bless all who read this.
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