Fabulously

Psych update:  I’m doing fabulously well.  [Weird, I used the word “fabulously”].  No sadness.  No heavy droopy body feelings.  I still sleep an awful lot on my days off (like, the whole day) but I attribute that to a number of other things not psych-related.  Laziness, boredom, loneliness, etc.  I’ll have to work on those things eventually if I plan on having a life worth living (by whose standards?) but for now I’m enjoying the sleep – gloriously vivid dreams that make my sleep life definitely worth living.  Yes, I’m escaping.  I’m not gonna lie.

Meds: 2.5 mg Abilify, 300mg Lamictal, and down to only 50mg Effexor (which I will be totally off of by the end of January). 

Date number two with J (oh hell -- Jean) was a few nights ago.  It was supposed to be a movie followed by coffee, but she reneged on the coffee part because she had to do something last minute gift-related for the upcoming Christmas weekend.  I was a bit disappointed, mostly because I wanted to go out and do something for a change.  We chatted briefly about the movie afterward which is when I realized that not only do I not like her like her, but I just plain don’t like her.  Maybe she’s a little too sure of herself.  Or brash.  Or too normal.  I like my people a little more broken.  And why is that?  Do I want to be the less broken one?  I don’t think that’s true.  Just annoyed by people who are too sure of themselves.  And maybe, because she’s an elementary school teacher, she’s too fucking wonderment and amazement and oh isn’t this grand! 

Now comes the awkward part.  Telling her that I’m not interested.  Or waiting for her to tell me that she’s not interested.  Or letting it go without a word from either one of us.  Run away!  Run away!