Jesus I didn't realize it'd been 11 days since I was up in this bitch. This is why I end up disappearing for months on end - something upsets me to the point that I change my entire routine, and FA gets caught in the crossfire. Which is bizarre because 99% of the time, whatever it was that upset me that badly has NOTHING to do with the furry fandom so... where's the sense in that?

To update on where I am in my current debacle, which I realize I never made clear in the first place: if 1 is the lowest and 10 is the best, I'm somewhere around 6 or MAYBE 7. I'm getting there. Said debacle involved a SCARY bad bipolar episode and a bad heartache occurring at the same exact time; anyone who suffers extreme depressive streaks can understand how bad that is alone, but topped with a mutual "we should split up" with someone who's been one of my best friends for two years? That sent me right off the edge of the cliff. (And left me without a good 50-75% of my personal support system - at the time of the decision I didn't understand that it meant cutting all contact for an undetermined number of months.)

I've been home from work recovering from the bipolar shit and dealing with everything else for nearly two weeks. My boss doesn't understand why I couldn't just work through it, but my boss also doesn't seem to understand how serious this shit can be and that I have a history of violent and self-destructive behavior that coincides with both manic and depressive episodes. It got to the point where I was literally wasting - I couldn't get myself to eat, couldn't get myself to drink, dropped about eight pounds in the course of a week and a half, was starting to get delusional, etc. And that was right BEFORE the shit hit the fan with my friend.

So. Doctor ordered me to take time off. Big change in my medications; between prescriptions and supplements I'm now taking enough pills in the morning that my stomach feels satiated and doesn't want breakfast. I have to avoid emotionally stressful situations and activities, but I'm encouraged to participate in physically stressful ones AS LONG AS they're of a beneficial nature. And I can't drink like I used to, which is FUCKING horrible (everyone knows how much I love my booze, and if you didn't: I am a raging drunkard) - I found this out the hard way last weekend. There were witnesses. I lost my dignity and my socks. I just want my socks back.

I joined a gym with my bff and have been stressing the crap out of every muscle in my body since the day we signed up, which seems to help keep my brain on the right track. I've been turning my apartment inside out. I'm trying to get myself out into the world and out with friends but it's really touch-and-go; if I feel too stressed or anxious then it's safer for all involved if I stay in. I was going to go back to work this morning, but a two hour crying fit when I woke up told me that wasn't happening. (Note that I'm normally a hard-ass and I just DON'T cry, so to be having crying fits out of nowhere is a sign that something's WAY off.) Gonna give it another shot tomorrow, if not then Friday, and if not then Monday.

SO that's the story with me right now, where I've been and where I'm headed and etc. Hopefully the treatment I'm on now actually WORKS (and that I'm responsible enough to take my goddamn meds every day - this is a bigger problem than it sounds like because I always get to a point where I resent having to live on medication and will just stop taking it all together. Gonna be 30 and I'm still as stubborn as an 8 year old with that shit, and it happens EVERY DAMN TIME.) Hopefully I get back to work soon. Hopefully shit works out with my friend and we end up still being close, or even friends at all. Hopefully I find whatever the hell it is I seem to have lost a month ago. Only time will tell.

In the meantime, I'm gonna keep on keepin' on and we'll see what happens from there.