Push-Me, Pull-You

Wow, this week has really sucked. I feel like I've been drawn and quartered both physically and emotionally. Saw my therapist this am, which was helpful if for no other reason than I had someone to completely vomit on. She very much agrees that I have too many variables in my life right now, but still wants me to be super careful with the tapering of meds.

I've got this lingering project for school that I need to finish and turn in next week, which has been put off repeatedly due to my health, and the fact that I really just don't wanna deal. But now, assuming my meds balance out, I'm *almost* looking forward to it as a distraction from my brain. Look, brain -- over there at that large distracting assignment you have to focus on!

I can count on one hand the number of times I've checked out of life with booze, and I'm desperately there again. Sadly, they aren't kidding when they say these Happy Pills and booze don't mix. Guess I'll have to wade through sober -- well, as long as you don't count the H.P.s.

Part of me also almost wishes that the surgery had never happened. Things were incredibly shitty then, but at least it was a constant shitty. I knew what to expect. (And yes, I know it would've eventually gotten worse if I hadn't had the surgery, too. But still, sometimes...)