tinhuviel: (Ace Ventura)
I spent the first half of the day at Mental Health for group therapy and then my appointment with the medication doctor. Therapy, I found out, is an hour and a half long, not just an hour. Because of that, I had very little time to do anything before it was time for my doctor's appointment. So I went and got gas and a drink, then drove back to MH for my visit with Dr. Smith. It was about a thirty minute wait before he called me back early. He weighed me and I discovered that I've lost 13 pounds since discontinuing the Zyprexa. I told him I'd done so and that I was already losing weight. He understood my reasons and decided to increase my Klonopin at night to help with sleep.

Therapy went well. We talked about a joy-inspiring moment in our lives and set goals that we thought would bring us more joy. My goal is to live in England and be a successful author. Rosa wasn't as irritating as she usually is and the folks in the group are really fascinating individuals. I really enjoyed my time there today. Perhaps I've finally found a place where I can let my hair down and learn techniques to deal with my anxiety and insomnia. Here's hoping. If that's the case then I must concede that Rosa knew what she was talking about when she told me I needed to be in this group. Kudos to her. Oh, and I didn't leave with a raging headache this time. W00T!

On my way home, I took my lunch money that Aunt Tudi had given me and bought Fitzgerald a rawhide bone to gnaw on while he's outside. He sniffed of it, picked it up, and ran like a bat out of hell around the yard. I checked later to find it partially buried. He's so much like Henry it's just mind-boggling. I dug the bone up and am gonna give it back to Fitzgerald tomorrow morning. He'll have enough time outside alone to where he can successfully bury it if that's his pleasure.
tinhuviel: (fitzgerald)
Fitzgerald has been banished to the outdoors during the day. He refused to be housebroken, just like a stubborn Beagle, and was peeing all over the house. He also refused to acknowledge the "no" command. Out the door he went. He's doing okay, though. He comes in for his daily naps and he's in at night. I also go out and spend quality time with him, playing with him. After just three days of being outside, Fitzgerald is now obeying "no" and is no longer peeing in the house when he's indoors. He's a smart dog, but he's the most stubborn dog I've ever encountered. I'm glad he's finally having a breakthrough. After a month of hell with him, it's heartening to see him finally fitting in and shaping up.

I go to group therapy and see the medication doctor today. There's about two hours in between the appointments, so I'll be hanging out at the library for a little while after group therapy. I need to remember to take some aspirin with me because Rosa, the counselor who leads the group therapy, gives me a headache every single time I encounter her. When we were doing the one-on-one sessions, I walked out of her office with head pain. It happens every single time. The woman is an irritant. When I see Dr. Smith, the medication doctor, I'll be telling him that I've stopped taking the Zyprexa. I've already lost a little bit of weight since I stopped the medicine. I'm not sleeping very well, but I am getting a little bit of sleep, so I'm not sure what he'll suggest or what medication he might try me on next, if there is even a different med he can try me on. I might have run the gamut. We'll see.

When I get home, I'm going to try to finish up editing a short story I'm writing for an anthology about "how the West was weird." It's a werewolf story that involves gunslinging and cattle mutilation. All this happens in the little town of Bent Elbow, Wyoming. There are some things I need to change about the second draft and I need to insert a chunk of the story that I wrote after the second draft was finished. It involves a stand off between One Cloud and Sheriff Hap Coleman. Once I successfully drop that into the story, I think it'll be finished and I can send it off to the gentleman who asked me if I wanted to participate in the anthology. I just hope it's good enough to be included. If he rejects it, I'll post the story here just for shits and giggles. I've never written anything about the Wild West, so I'm really stepping outside my comfort zone with this. If the story is accepted, I'll be a happy little cowpoke.

It's time for me to start getting ready for my day at the crazy house. More later.
tinhuviel: (Doomsday Clock)
I had another one-on-one with my counselor today. I don't see how it's helping me seeing her on an individual basis, so I volunteered for the group meeting. I go see the group for Mindfulness a week from Wednesday. It was actually supposed to be this coming Wednesday, but I already have an appointment with the prescription nurse. The more I go to mental health, the less I feel they're helping me. What I need is a one-on-one-on-one with Socrates and Carl Jung. That'd be fun.
tinhuviel: (Barry Exact Science)
I talked to my counselor Rosa about Llew today. It took me a good twenty minutes of our hour together to get out the whole sad story of 2008, and how I believe he killed himself. I told her that, whilst I didn't grieve over his loss as I might would have had he not been a prat and went missing in 2005, I still felt a pang of guilt that I would not let him come back to the house after he'd exhausted all his avenues in Pennsylvania. Rosa gave me some perspective on the whole megillah, stressing that the guilt about this situation should go with Llew because what he did, if he did indeed commit suicide, was a spiteful and childish act, especially how he went about it (emailing me on Christmas Eve). She also gave me some exercises to use when my mind begins to wonder in those dark places regarding Llew's death. For the first time, I left our therapy session feeling better than when I walked in. I don't go back to see Rosa for a month. Progress!

HO HUM

Aug. 30th, 2010 05:13 pm
tinhuviel: (Chalice)
I'm bored out of my head, but I'm unsure what I want to do. I could write, but I don't know what I want to write. I could go through my old writing archives, but I'm physically not motivated to do that. I could throw my hands in the air and wave them like I just don't care, but I actually just finished doing that, and it didn't help the circumstances. Really, I'm just not in a decent state of mind at all. Someone sent me a case of the blahs before I finished the case I already had. No many blahs, not enough days in the week. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day because today, I'm just not feeling it.
tinhuviel: (Super Sane T)
Since I don't go over to TJB anymore, I figured I'd save my little badge from over there on account of I'm fond of it.

Arkham Asylum

February 2019

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