Random Chaos

I'm toast.

I just had…the biggest, most screamingest fight with my aunt I’ve ever had…and this includes the crazy phase in high school when pretty much the entire family used me regularly as a punching bag.

She offers to basically swoop in and help, and I get taken to task for…

Wait for it…

Coffee.

Yes.

She took issue not with the amount of my caffeine consumption (which I admit, until I was able to cut back thanks to mixing it up with an occasional hit of nicotine from my Blu was alarmingly high)—but the fact that I HAVE caffeine at all. This devolved into my talking speed, my dislike for the ADHD drugs (dead!brain, do not like, I need ALL THE NEURONS FIRING to write—preferably all at once), the fact that it took me this long to get help, my choice of doctors (not a choice, as they were all assigned), and the fact that I’d basically called just to say ‘hi’ and now was being piled on at all sides—couldn’t handle it. Huge meltdown. I finally managed to get enough of my senses back to explain WHY the entire fucking family has been off-base—which included a possibly long-overdue explanation of why I just up and left everyone five years ago and didn’t make another contact until three years ago. And then it got worse. I was trying to explain and then she goes and yells at me for not trying to get well, for just sort of sitting in it and not doing anything.  THAT did it. I ripped into the entire family after that one so she could see the shit I’d gone through, and I got through, I could tell—the “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT BLAHBLAHBLAH I HAD TO BLAH BLAH” speech got cut right the fuck off and I was able to get MINE across. It got ugly.

TL;DR? We bit each other’s heads off.

And then we made progress.

That fifth opinion is happening, apparently—apparently the flat-refusal of the Xanax for a severe PTSD patient (this info delivered from ANOTHER patient, my aunt) is…well, you can hear the WTF face; after the fifth opinion…well, I’ll figure that out later.

I really can’t think too well right now. I have one of those “thumb in the temple” headaches, and seeing straight is a lie. About the most complicated thing I’m going to be able to do is a helping of plain miso soup—no meat, no tofu, no pat of butter (though I LOVE me some buttery miso soup, butter has some density and is not good for fasting). After the screaming match ended, though, I’m basically Ms. Laryngitis—I’m not going to be on Skype tonight. Though the fight ended well, I am drained of any defense—one meltdown today is enough. I am finished for the night.