Letters to Loki no. 33

Dear Loki,

My head feels like it is thick with mud, but I know that is just because I'm so congested from Cuddle Bear's cold, which he so generously shared with me. I don't know what to write at the moment. My physical symptoms aside, I still don't feel well. I have more energy and stuff, but I still feel depressed. I still find myself having self destructive thoughts. 

I talked to my therapist about things. She got stuck on the concept of telling me that I have to ground myself in the present and 'tell all the cells in your body that it is in the past.' (I mentioned that I've been having problems with my c-PTSD and I guess she latched on to that.) I was... frustrated. The antipsychotic medication I'm on, apparently, is used as a mood stabilizer for people with bipolar. If that is the case, it really isn't working out that well. I'm trying to give the new medication time to work. I'm trying to give everything the chance to work out on its own. But, honestly, I'm worried that it won't.

A part of me wants to just run up the proverbial white flag and say 'fuck it, I'm just going to be like this for the rest of my life. might as well deal.' And then there is the rest of me that is soul deep angry. I can't fully put into words what I'm angry with. I'm angry that my care isn't what I think it should be. I'm angry with the fact that I have to go do this stupid shit to begin with. I'm angry with how I wound up in this position. And I am so utterly angry with the fact that my anxiety has gotten in the way of resolving much of the problem.

Most of all, I'm tired. I'm tired of the emotional roller coaster. I'm tired of the memory problems. I am struggling between the feeling that I want my life back and the resignation that this is the new normal. I hate feeling like this.

~ me

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