It's almost 11pm on Christmas Eve. My son is in bed, having opened one gift at 7pm. The biggest box, of course. :-) I got all his presents wrapped (I hope), and have been working on wrapping gifts for tomorrow, when I get to see my family. I got my Mom's main gift finished. At least, she thinks it's her main gift. She'd been given a pendant watch that had no chain, and she asked me to make a beaded necklace for it. The watch probably dates to the '50's, but it has a rather Art Deco look, so that's what I tried to match. I hope she'll like it.

The *real* main present for her and Dad is a microwave MW bought them. (Never mind the 'Mr. UF' thing. It's too much hassle. From here on, he's MW.) He's on his way over with my son's bike, which his parents graciously hid for me. I have his presents all wrapped in nice, purple hologrammatic paper. No Christmas paper for him! Me, I don't care what it's wrapped in!

Finished knitting a hat for the little girl that gets the school bus whith my son. I'll take the knitting hoop and yarn with me tomorrow and work on the hat I promised her brother. I also promised two of my nieces I'd knit them hats. Thank goodness the hoops make them fast and easy.

I cut myself a couple days ago. I feel so guilty. I'd stopped for five months, which would be good except that I've stopped longer before. I've gone an entire year without cutting in the past, so why only five months this time?

MW took us to see the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe yesterday. We all three really enjoyed it. We wandered through the mall afterwards, and I had to fight to keep it together. I'd left my purse at home, so I didn't have my Klonopin. My chest hurt, my head began to pound, and i wanted nothing more than to hide in a deep hole, crying and wailing. MW has seen me go through worse (he really *is* a gem), and sent my son up to the apartment to get my purse and a bottle of water. The discovery that Klonopin can be chewed has been a lifesaver for me, as chewing it makes it work faster. I think I looked pretty normal by the time we got to MW's parents house for dinner.

Where *is* that man, anyway?

Oh, well. Boun Natale.

I saw my t-doc on Tuesday. I kept the conversation as light as I could, but she looked at me half-way through the hour and said "damn, you're depressed". I had to admit that she was correct. I haven't been able to make myself take a shower in almost two weeks, and changing clothes just doesn't seem worth the hassle. My t-doc asked me if I had any friends I could talk to. I admitted that I had shut everyone out except Mike, and that's only because he won't let me. But since he went off to drive a truck, I hardly get to talk to him, anyway. There are a few people online I consider friends, but it's not the same. That isn't a slight on efriends. Talking face to face is hard. I have to pretend that I am fine, and it exhausts me. I don't want to complain, because people don't like whiners. I even find myself sugar-coating everything for my t-doc and p-doc.

I had another fucked up nightmare Tuesday night. It just hit me out of left field. Not a flashback nightmare. Those I have on a regular basis. I don't even wake up screaming anymore. This nightmare was one of those you try to wake yourself from and just can't. It follows you as you try to wake, and drags you back into it.

The topic of nightmares leads me to medications. No, really. I suffer from insomnia. However, when I do sleep, I have nightmares. It leaves me with two choices:

Take a sleeping medicine to help me fall asleep before 5:30am or
Take a medication to suppress dreams.

Problem is, I would need both, but they cannot be taken together. But wait, it gets more fun!

My p-doc and i finally found a sleeping med that works for me. Glory hallelujah! Thing is, medicaid won't authorise it. They insist that I have to take one called Sonata. I'm sure it's great, but it doesn't do crap for me. But i have to take it, because we have to try all the meds on the preferred list before they will authorise a script for the one that works. You'd think they'd *like* the one that works, too, because it's non-addicting and they say you can't OD on it. When you suffer from an illness where the main cause of death is suicide, a med that you cannot OD on is a *good* thing.

I'm exhausted. I'll blog* more later.


*whine

A song parody

[Drinking & Cussing are Two of] My Favorite Things

Manhattans, daiquiris, vodka martinis,
G&Ts, shooters and fancy Bellinis,
Rare Cabernets and Long Island Ice Tea:
I drink when I sing and I'm never off-key.

Ripping a blue streak at trolls that are nasty
Driving the fuckheads to angioplasty:
Demanding they shove it where daylight don't shine
Swearing is also a favorite of mine.

Put them together, it gets more effective!
Drunken bravado plus lots of invective!
40-proof whiskey and F-words galore.
Drinking and cussing are things I adore!

When the fan spins
When the shit hits
When I'm feeling mad
I simply indulge in these favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

*****

I would like to both thank and commend the author of this parody, ET from the www.newshounds.us O/T forum.