Wish Me Luck

I was going to leave this post the screen shot of my calendar, but then something happened this morning that changed my mind.

First of all I woke up and got Livvie, changed her, then went to make coffee. About a third of the way through making the coffee I thought, "Oh Fuck. Today is the first." Uh huh. Slyly I opened the door to look at the window sill on our deck, the one where we keep the smokes. Gone. One full pack and 2 partial packs were gone. My heart hit my chest like a ball doing ninety and I wanted to cry. I almost did.

My heart is still racing with panic.

I know they're not gone permanently. I know he just hid them. This is what makes it harder you see. Now that I KNOW that they're somewhere in the house it will make if far easier to think, "Oh just one. What's one gonna hurt?" etc...

So yeah, wish me luck. I'm already shaking and pacing, and that's just from the very IDEA of the whole thing.

No Heat/Fluff

Well, I forgot to take my Seroquel for the first time the night before last after ALLLLLL of that drama. Oops. I'm not used to taking meds at night anymore and it completely skipped my mind.

I took one at 212pm yesterday because my brain was doing its thing. The thing where it starts drying out inside my skull and rattling around. Honestly, it's really like I can actually feel it moving inside my head, and it feels dessicated. So, into my maw went the Seroquel, and within an hour I was so sleepy that I could barely keep my head up. However, the buzzing in my head and the dryness stopped within an hour. I consider that a victory. 

I also had way too much caffeine yesterday. I drank 3 cups of coffee and 5 Coke Zeros, and that was contributing to the buzzing as well. Not good. Why on earth I feel the need to do that is beyond me. It's retarded. I made excuses that the coffee was because I was cold, but I'm pretty sure that was bullshit. Just one more way of altering my brain chemistry.

Here's something: my headologist FINALLY called me yesterday, and she was apologetic for not calling sooner. Rich said he should have answered the phone so he could say, "I'm sorry, she's not here. She jumped off a bridge 2 days ago." During our conversation I let her know exactly what's going on; that I'm smoking and drinking too much, and basically writing too much. The writing hurts no one, but I actually got so drunk the other night that I barfed before I went to bed. Lovely image isn't it? I've become ridiculous, and it really needs to stop. 

It hurts me that all of this is so obvious, and was to everyone else long before it was to me. I thought I knew myself better than that. It's completely insidious to the person experiencing it, which is why one needs to have supportive people around.

On a lighter note, well, I don't know if there even IS a lighter note. I'm pretty sure all of you are tired of the shit going on in my head, but I think I'll have to write about it until the meds seriously start working. Oh, I know what I can mention. Rich had decided that he wanted to quit smoking with me, but his date was March 1st since he said he can't quit on a work day and tomorrow will be easier for him. So I'll quit with him tomorrow because I can't NOT smoke if he's smoking. I plan to go buy a pack of Marlboro Reds today, since I've been smoking Ultra Lights for years, and I'm pretty sure an afternoon of smoking hard core will make me want to quit for sure. They're pretty harsh, and I might even have the good fortune of waking up with a sore throat tomorrow morning. Why is that good? Well, the only times I have been able to quit for any length of time prior to this was because I got sick and couldn't smoke. Hell, maybe I'll even wake up with bronchitis tomorrow and really not even WANT to smoke. Or hell maybe I'll chew on the Bloomin' Ashtray and make myself gag. Yes I know, I'm pitiful.

Have a great Friday everyone. I'll try to be cheerier tomorrow. 

And, um...

This has to stop.



Seriously, how gross is that? that's been since Friday.

The Twelve Days of Smoking

On the first day of smoking my true love gave to me... mild COPD...



Ok, maybe not, but you gotta admit that it's not good for you. Hell, it might be one of THE worst things for you ever. I have 12 days left in which to smoke, before I hopefully quit for good. This might not go well, as the only time in the past I was able to quit was when I was 22 years old and had bronchitis so bad it bordered on pneumonia. Problem is... I'm not ready to quit yet. I've tried many things, books, gum, the patch, but nothing makes me WANT to quit. I'm sure you've heard smokers refer to cigarettes as their "friends." Well, in some ways it's true.

I had quit for 6 years back then, and each and every day I wanted another cigarette. I told my mother at one point that if I was ever diagnosed with a terminal disease the first thing I would do would be to go out and buy a carton. Once a smoker, always a smoker? Hell yes. I remember going out to bars and sitting beside smokers so I could secondhand off of them like crazy. I'd stand downwind from smokers outside at work. And every once in awhile I would bum a drag off of someone. Just one, which was like the tease of getting a dozen clams instead of oh say, 50.

I started smoking again as a way to self medicate against the increasing symptoms of BiPolar Disorder. I was 28. One would think that at 28 years old a person would be smart enough not to restart a deadly habit. Not so. Things were Very Bad at that time in my life, and I needed the help of an old friend. The first pack almost killed me, but I pushed through it, buying a second pack, and then a third, until I was once again a practicing smoker.

I even smoked while I was pregnant. Yep, I did. I smoked 3-5 cigarettes a day, never in the car, never at work, only at home. You'd think that I'd be able to quit smoking to protect a child growing inside me, wouldn't you? I had always thought so too. But then, I also couldn't give up one cup of coffee each morning either. Oh, and I also ate lunch meat. But these are tales for reasons I should go to mommy hell, and not about the topic at hand. So...

I have to quit. It's no longer about me. I might not have protected her from carbon monoxide in the womb, but it's my duty to make sure she has a mother. Smoking killed my father at the age of 47. I was 11 years old. I'm sure you're wondering how I could have even picked up a cigarette in the first place after experiencing that. I wonder too. 25 years ago this past January he died, and my life was never as it should have been.

Reasons to quit:

Livvie
Cost
Health

So, I bought a carton yesterday, and will probably when this one runs out as well. I plan to enjoy each and every cigarette until the 29th. Smoking mindfully if you will. I'll treasure each nicotine receptor in my head opening up to let that lovely chemical in, and I'll relish the filling of my lungs with smoke. I'll make sure each smoke is a ritual, the snap of the lighter, the inhale, the tapping of the ash. And then on the 29th I'll say goodbye to a friend who has helped me for years, even though it was a backstabbing sonofabitch. And hopefully I can say goodbye for good.

$113

That's how much it will cost me today to refill all of my meds. I've been off my meds for 2 days because we were dirt broke. Nothing terrible has happened though, which is good. I'm assuming there's a half life there that helps out for a few days.

Of course, I did realize yesterday that I was self medicating with an entire bottle of wine plus a beer. Wine is funny for me. It gets me drunk. Why is that funny? Because I can drink 4-5 bourbon and cokes PLUS 3 beers and not feel a thing. By my second glass of wine I'm ready to dance on a table while people throw french fries at me.

Our state refund was deposited last night which is the only reason I can even afford my meds. Otherwise I was going to have to wait until Friday, by which time something terrible could have absolutely happened. And by terrible I mean things like spending money in my account that I don't have and going overdraft, which would then earn me penalties of $35 per transaction. My mother once deposited $300 in my account and when she got the deposit slip back it said that I had $46 in my account. She was PISSED. And yes, twice a month I receive an allowance from my mother. She does this so that I can have my "inheritance" while she's alive to see it making a difference. Whatever her reasons, it's the only way we could survive some months.

I need to see my shrink sometime in the next month because I completely skipped my December appointment with her. She was kind enough to speak to me on the phone at no charge, and what struck me about that is that the call lasted approximately 4 minutes. I usually have a 15 minute "medication management" appointment with her every 3 months, and those cost me $68. I had expected to be charged for the phone call, but she took pity on me and made sure I had refills called in and also took my word for it that things were going ok. I think she usually relies on the way I behave in her office to see if I need my meds uppped or downed. I don't want to go to the next appointment since my management apparently requires less than a 5 minute conversation, but I guess I must. I'm not certain that my Lamictal is working to its full extent as I have had panic attacks surrounding leaving the house on a regular basis. I'd like a scrip for Xanax, but generally shrinks won't prescribe it often as it's about as addictive as heroin. Or cigarettes. Which leads me to discuss...

I smoked 26 cigarettes one day last week. Yes, 26. I also think this is related to anxiety and panic, but it needs to stop. So please if you can wish me stop smoking vibes. I've picked February 29th to quit, and this time I'm going cold turkey since the patch seems to not help at all.

That's it for today. I'll catch you all tomorrow.