Treatment Day Nine 12/8/11

My sleep patterns have become insane. I'm sleeping for 3-4 hours then staying awake for 3-4 hours, around the clock. I don't know if it's from the treatment, boredom, or the stiff mattress. I'm usually someone who can sleep nearly anywhere, though, so I'm inclined to think it's from treatment.

Treatment today was at 9am, which means a 7:30 wake up time to allow for my pedestrian commute. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to ever fall in my natural sleep/wake cycle, so it feels brutal getting out of bed. Today was the coldest temperature I've experienced since being here, too.

I drug myself out of bed and into the cold for another day of head tapping. When I arrived, Dr. Li had trouble with the device again. He futzed around with it for 45 minutes or so before admitting defeat and sending me on my way. He asked if he could call me when it was repaired and have me return within an hour. I told him that would be no problem.

I waited all day, unable to get involved in any major activity because I needed to be able to leave as soon as I got the call. I had thought today would be a Habitat day, but I didn't want to show up only to have to leave soon after. The call never came.

When 5:00 hit and I knew the call wouldn't come, I decided to get out of the apartment for a while. I went to Vitamin World to get some Melatonin, hopeful that it would provide a solid night's sleep. Since it was cold out, I decided some soup would be nice. Normally I prefer to avoid chains and eat local when travelling, but O'Charley's potato soup was calling me.

I googled the closest location and put the address in my GPS. Modern technology is wonderful. I went through the heaviest traffic I've seen since arriving in Charleston, taking a half hour to go six miles. When I got to the designated address, there was no O'Charley's to be seen. Knowing that the navi is sometimes off on addresses, I went a mile in either direction with no success.

The familiar refrain "I wish I was dead" returned. I felt like such a failure. My only job here is to get better, and I seem to be failing at that. Mom talked to me when I was feeling great, and now I feel like I'm supposed to be that way all the time. I'm so used to hiding my emotions, it's second nature. I do it partly to protect those who care about me, so they don't worry about me. I also do it so I won't be hated. I don't want to be the Debbie Downer that no one wants to be around because I'm always so blue, but the truth is that I can feel that way for months at a time. I pretend to be okay because the repercussions to being honest are serious. I could hurt my family (I've done that before); I could lose my friends (I've done that before); I could lose my job (I've done that before); I could lose everything (I seem to tempt fate with that one often enough). All because I hate myself.

It was dark and I was again frustrated. A lot of my trip seems to be filled with that emotion. I was obviously on the posh side of town, and I went to the fanciest Wal-Mart I've ever seen. It actually had a huge window display, and the area's ordinances kept its sign short enough that I almost didn't see it.

I went in to get some Febreeze, as my nephew now has me paranoid about my vehicle smelling bad. While I was there, I decided to get some wine to aid the Melatonin in getting me to sleep. I also picked up a can of tomato soup to help satiate my soup craving.

By the time I got back to the apartment, I no longer had the desire to make soup, so dinner was skipped. I Skyped the boyfriend, took the Melatonin, and prepared for a (hopefully) restful sleep.