I guess my worries about crashing into depression were unfounded. I just stopped climbing is all. I’m kind of gliding or skimming across the water – like a bird or something. Above baseline, but not sky high like before, and certainly not raging Hulk-like either. Like I’m waiting for another jet stream to climb up again… or just simply give out and crash. Mostly just a sense of waiting to see what will happen.

I’m wondering if it’s because my meds came from a different pharmacy this time around. The other pills are cream colored and these ones are white. As I’m writing this it’s the second day having them and I feel different is all. You wouldn’t think it would make that much of a difference but it seems to which is odd because both are generic.

I’ve had a third type of generic before from a third pharmacy that made me feel weird as hell – as in the tingling in my face and fingers happened big time. I wished I had more of a say in which generic I got but the generic isn’t labeled in any way, but right now the one from Walmart seems to be settling.

I’m still mostly sleepless and hypersexual. Bleh… I don’t think anything on this planet intentionally makes the latter go away when you want it to. But I don’t feel the screaming rage like before. The irritability seems to be gone. Anxiety too. The spider webbing of thought? Gone. Or if it’s still there it’s not in my face like before. I don’t even feel driven to write like I have been either. Like I’ve hit a wall. After almost two months of straight word vomit I suppose this was coming.

I feel the energy drain but not completely if that makes sense. So I guess it was a good thing I had to get an emergency refill a switch between generics. Again aside from the color of the pills I have no idea what makes them different, but I feel different. I don’t feel like I’m crashing anymore.

I do wish I could sleep though. I wish that when I did sleep it came without weird ass dreams. I’m tired of dreaming about a man I can’t see, who speaks when I can’t hear, and never actually does anything but I feel like he should be. I’m not even going to ask with this new reoccurring dream or try to make sense of it. At all. Okay maybe I will – but later.

And then there is my favorite… the reoccurring  dream of endless doors. You have to keep moving because who the fuck knows why? But it’s just an endless stream of rooms and hallways and if you end up back where you started you know you are in serious shit and you had better hurry and really get going. Because… reasons. I’ve never gotten out and I don’t know what’s in there. And the weird thing is, it’s not always the same building. Usually it’s a school (why?!) but sometimes it’s a skyscraper, rarely it’s a forest (with doors??! how the hell does that work?!) and one time it was a hospital…

just. fuck. that. shit. In case you hadn’t guessed, it really isn’t my favorite dream.

I seem to recall with the hospital one actually wanting the whatever to fucking find me and end it. And of course it wouldn’t. The fucker. I remember waking up realizing it had more fun watching me freak out in the hospital than chasing me. It’s weird, I’ve had this reoccurring dream since I was little and I still have no idea what it is.

It could be worse. I could be having night terrors and sleep paralysis. I shouldn’t be bitching about weird ass dreams and just be grateful. Hell even going sleepless is better than that shit. I remember before the Topamax how I used to go to great lengths to avoid sleep. Now here I am, worn down and wondering how to get myself to sleep like a normal person. I remember there was a time that I could do that before the night terrors and sleep paralysis – before Scholar Owl’s father. Yes the weird ass dreams were weird ass dreams and all but it was part of my life and I never thought to question them. Heck I even believed some of them foretold the future – yea no shit. Now I want no part of that. Now I just want to lay down, play dead if you will and rest deep in the bones. For real.

Tired of feeling like I’m on the move all the time. I wonder if that’s why I dream of those fucking doors all the time? The drive to go and move non-stop? Maybe the whatever after me is my other self, my sick brain. Mystery solved. Well I feel better now. New Year’s Resolution: next time I have this dream, I’m flipping it off instead of running. Fuck it, I’m done with running. I’m tired. Would be awesome if I actually did it in a dream. Or just stopped having it. I could live with that too. But I would be extremely happy to have just one lucid dream where I could just turn around and flip that fucking thing off after all these years. I don’t care what it did after that. I just want the satisfaction of flipping it off.

So that begs the question… why am I dreaming of some dude I can’t see and hear that fucking does nothing now all of a sudden? Well, he talks obviously. But I can’t hear him. Bastard. I’m not blind because I can see everything else in the room. He’s always behind something or in some fucking shadow or just around the damn corner, etc. And my hearing is bad while awake – the type of hearing where certain sounds become distorted or aren’t heard at all. So I know he’s speaking but I don’t know what’s said. And it’s upsetting as fuck. Maybe I’m just afraid of losing my hearing completely? Because by not seeing him I can’t read his lips and make up for it that way – or use my horribly broken sign language. Maybe it’s the idea of independence slipping away from me that’s upsetting? I mean this is something I can’t do anything about. It’s genetic and degenerative. There is surgery for it but it comes with the risk of complete hearing loss. I’ll pass for now while I still have some hearing thank you.

Who knows? What I do know is that’s it’s almost 3:30am and I still haven’t slept yet and I have someone to avoid like the plague all day – while remaining awake preferably. I really do not wish to accidently press the Monday Self Destruct Button in all this. You know because of the boys and Christmas and all.