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I woke up with 12 sporks.  No, 11.  Dammit.  Already down 1.  I lost one from the anxiety of having May in the car and her incessant whining because I wouldn’t put the back windows down for her pseudo head stick out.  It was cold-45 degrees of cold.  I love my dog, I REALLY do, but I can not handle the whining when she doesn’t get her way.  It’s like another kid around here.  ARGH.  I was going to say I lost another from the anxiety that started to wrap me in it’s too-close vicinity, but we’ll just say that I lost one to anxiety in general.  It’s 9 am.  I was sitting at the light to come home and I started to think…

Thinking, Bad.

It leads to wondering and wandering thoughts…that lead to intrusion and the What Ifs….dammit, here comes the PTSD.  It’s not full force.  It’s not in full combat gear ready to defend itself against my strength.  Nope, it’s just a couple of mall security types that make you know their presence is there to “keep the peace”.  Pfffffbt.  Assholes and liars.  I started to rock.  I had to move my seat belt from around my neck.  It felt like one of THe Kraken’s tentacles trying to choke me and pull me under the water.  Get a grip, Sass.  You’re almost home.  Fuck.

Panic, anxiety, PTSD ALL before 9 a fucking m.  (Panic from the anxiety, anxiety from the PTSD, PTSD from the thinking…fucking vicious cycle and NO amount of self talk could stop it)


I need to split up my morning dose of my mood stabilizer.  No, I don’t need the rapid cycling, this is true.  BUT, I can’t keep dealing having the anxiety creep up from the depths-or the top-to try and drag me to hell first thing EVERY MORNING.


Splitting Trileptal (Oxcarbazepine) into THREE doses instead of two.  1 300mg before I leave to take the kids to school.  1 300mg around 10-11 am.  The other 600mgs at bedtime.  Biggest side effect from it-feeling drunk dizzy.  If it keeps me from being all over the map, so be it.  Just a shame I couldn’t be ingesting the fine scotch I have now become accustomed too.  Damn my palette for its need for expensive stuff that makes me happy(ish/er).  It’s either this, or I have to call Kathy and get a prescription for Xanax…may do that anyway just as a rescue/backup.

Med ingested, but the anxiety it bad enough I tried to throw my pill away and eat a chip off the floor.  Fuck all.  Great.  Now it feels like my pill is stuck in my throat, and now I feel like I’m really choking and I can’t do the self Heimlich maneuver…FUCK ALL.  This day is shot.

I don’t even know how many sporks I have.  They’re scattered at my feet and I can’t concentrate enough to count.  Everything keeps coming in and out of focus like a REALLY bad B movie.  I just want some bacon and eggs…I don’t know if I have the attention span to focus long enough for the bacon, but maybe the eggs…damn.

I just want someone to hold me.  They don’t have to say anything or tell me it’ll be alright or get better.  Just hold me, make me feel safe from my own brain.

I think I’ll take a shower.