Saturday, September 28, 2013

Ayelet cock-blocks for a friend

Feeling especially disconnected this set of holidays. I didn't really do anything over the first days of Sukkot, in part because I was recovering from a fierce sinus infection/bronchitis, but also because I don't really care anymore. Took off from work mostly because I wanted some time off and I'm not well enough to travel. Went to Hakafot and felt like an observer. Why are those people singing and walking around in circles carrying these large objects? Almost anthropological. Not spiritual.

I almost didn't go. But I forced myself to throw on some makeup and put on a new, significantly low-cut, body-conscious burgundy dress. I got a lot of compliments on it, even though I thought it was a bit too tight (fortunately there's shapewear). And it definitely helped me distract a man away from a woman who distracted him away from a friend.

Actually, she's not even really my friend, she's the friend of a friend. I think she's a bit of a loose cannon. Call her Loosey Goosey, or LG. We were all at the annual Simchat Torah oneg sponsored by West Side Institutional Synagogue. LG stormed up to my friend and me to complain that a friend of hers whom she's known for more than 30 years had just cock-blocked her.

Urban Dictionary defines cock-block as "To interfere with someone who is getting acquainted with, conversing with, or hooking up with a member of the opposite sex." I've been accused (unjustly) of doing this before at a few parties I've attended. LG was fuming because she'd been talking with a man and then her friend butted in.

"Who's the guy?" I asked. LG indicated a chubby, balding, white-haired gent talking to a hefty woman with badly colored hair. I didn't see why he was so worth getting worked up about, but I wasn't getting much attention from anyone I'd be interested in and I was bored. (Probably the sexy dress made me look like I was trying too hard.)

"Want me to cock-block her?" I asked.

"Yes!" said LG. So I sauntered over to him and said, "Oh, I was just told you're just the person I need to talk to! May I sit down?"

"Of course!" he said. Hefty Woman's eyes narrowed as he turned from her to me.

"My name is Ayelet," I said. "I was told that you'd be able to advise me because you're so knowledgeable in your profession. You know something I need to know more about."

I didn't know anything about him. Not his name, not his profession. But I figured I could fake it, especially if I flattered him.

"You mean, the law?" he said.

"Yes!" I cried. Hefty Woman clenched her hands. "Remind me of your name?"

"My name is Gullible," he said, turning his entire attention to me.

"Well, Gullible, I need to know more about that big Supreme Court decision. About 20 years ago. Specifically in your area of law." I don't know a lot about the law, but I figured there had to have been some big Supreme Court case I could fake my way through if he mentioned it.

"Real estate law?" he said.

"Exactly," I said. "It was that big case about... oh, what's it called? I can't remember the term."

"Eminent domain?" he asked.

"Yes! Eminent domain!" I cried. And chatted to him about Columbia University's calculated takeover/buyout of a big chunk of Harlem. Which I don't know much about, but enough to keep a conversation going with him -- and away from the Hefty Woman. Eventually she got up and left, to LG's delight.

Gullible and I chatted about the law, his recent divorce and move to the city, and exchanged names. I'm kind of hoping he won't remember mine, but if he does I'll probably ask if he's interested in LG's contact information. Not sure he will be -- apparently she tried to talk to him after I did and he kind of blew her off.

"He said he's not feeling well," said LG. "Maybe you gave him a heart condition!"

As usual, it's easy for me to snatch the attention of men I'm not remotely attracted to. But it wouldn't be Simchat Torah if I didn't have another fleeting encounter with DavidAfter Hakafot at the Spanish & Portuguese Synagogue, David and my friend ET and I hung out at their light dinner, followed by a heavy ice cream social. And as usual, David appeared happy to see me and paid me a little attention, but I couldn't really get a read on him.

"Guess I'll see you next Simchat Torah," I joked as I was leaving.

"Or before then," he said.

"You were supposed to take me to the transit museum last year," I said. "Is that ever going to really happen?" (Looking back, this sounds kind of shrewish.)

"I know I'm busy this Sunday," he said, "but maybe another."

"Check your calendar; let me know on Facebook," I said. But I'm not really expecting him to. I guess I could email him on FB myself to schedule something. I always thought if he were really interested in me he'd make more of an effort to get together. But if he's very shy, maybe he wouldn't. Also, I realized that I'm not that nice to him. I make fun of his hair and glasses, and tease him for living with his parents. What man wants to be with a woman who puts him down? I'm acting like a second-grader with a crush.

I don't know. Whenever I try to follow dating rules, nothing works, and whenever I flout dating rules, nothing works. I'm good at charming elderly attorneys, but not attractive men my age. I should just marry Gullible and try to scare him into a heart attack so I can inherit. Actually, as an attorney he'd probably make me sign an ironclad pre-nup.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Ayelet appeals to the insurer

My rheumatologist, Dr. Kind, and surgeon, Dr. Sharp, have both spoken to the insurer to plead for my surgery to be covered. They were both denied, but I was told I could write a letter to the appeal coordinator and plead my case.

I am writing to appeal the decision made to deny my surgery. At this time I am experiencing severe pain on a daily basis, which hinders me as I try to do my job and imprisons me as soon as I get home. I am a social worker in two busy methadone clinics, and it is very painful for me just to walk around both clinics to supervise 16 counselors and see patients. I am unable to stand for more than one minute without significant discomfort; even waiting for the elevator is painful.

I am dependent every day on Tramadol and Lidoderm patches to manage the pain, and it is never fully absent. I wake up in pain and struggle through the day with pain, and when I go home and take off the patches, I am a prisoner of the pain; I cannot do anything socially after work, and since I live alone, I am frequently very lonely. Often the pain wakes me up at night, so I am frequently sleep-deprived during the day, which only exacerbates the pain and impedes my ability to be effective at my job.

For years I have sought other treatment for the pain. I have seen numerous physical therapists, sports medicine specialists, pain management specialists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, and orthopedic surgeons. I have even tried hypnotherapy. Nothing has helped. Because I am in such significant pain whenever I spend too much time standing or walking, exercise is very difficult; I cannot even use a stationary bicycle. I have tried to lose weight without exercise, both on my own and with the support of my primary care physician, but have not been able to.

This surgery is my only hope for regaining a normal, productive, balanced life. Please see attached a letter from my rheumatologist detailing how this procedure will help me in my current condition. I beg you to reconsider allowing me to have this surgery.

Writing to my elected officials may or may not have lit a fire under the NYS Education Department, but they finally granted me eligibility to take the LCSW exam. I'm looking into review courses.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Ayelet advocates for herself

I have been waiting forever for the New York State Education Department to sign off on my LCSW paperwork and declare me eligible to take the LCSW examination. Today, as I languish at home, recovering from yet another stint of sinusitis/bronchitis (third or fourth this year; I work in an unventilated germ box), I decided to email all of my elected officials -- from President Obama on down to my local community board -- and let them know what's happening, or rather, what isn't happening.

I am a clinical social worker with master's degrees from (distinguished CUNY) and (distinguished school of social work) and have obtained my LMSW. Months ago, I submitted my LCSW paperwork (documenting my hours of supervised work in the field) to the Dept. of Education to obtain permission to take the LCSW examination. They made this process very difficult by not telling me, when I specifically asked, all of the documents I would need, and then later telling me my application was incomplete without those documents. But finally I submitted everything to their satisfaction.

For more than four weeks, I have been calling to find out my application status. Every time they either tell me something is missing that is not missing, or merely say "It's being reviewed." It is not that long an application. I am tired of waiting for permission to take the examination, and not having the LCSW—for which I am fully qualified— is significantly hindering my professional advancement and development.

I am a registered Democrat and vote in every election. I'm sending you and all my other elected officials this note because I am fed up with the Education Dept.'s delays and excuses.

Sincerely, Ayelet Survivor, MA, LMSW

I added an additional paragraph to Chuck Schumer's email:

Also, I am single and I hear you like setting people up. I am 43, very attractive, a petite and voluptuous brunette, smart, spunky, and very kind and loving. If you know a nice Jewish man aged 38-48 who might be interested, feel free to ask me for a photo to show him.

It's election season in NYC. I didn't want to threaten to vote Republican, but maybe I should send emails to the Republican local candidates as well, promising them my vote if they light a fire under the NYS Ed Dept.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Monday, September 09, 2013

Mommy Dearest: A Tishrei poem

I miss you
I never want to see you again

I love you
I hate you

I want to get past my past
I want my innocence back

I want to hug you
I want to punch you in the face

I can't control you
You can't control me

I want to forgive you
I can't
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Monday, September 02, 2013

Señor Creepy Control Freak

Never believe a man who says he just wants to help you improve your Spanish.

A few weeks ago, I started getting to know an older gentleman in one of my Facebook Jewish singles groups. That is, I know he's older, because he sports white hair and a substantial mustache. I assumed he was a gentleman. And I also assumed that since he reads my posts and comments in the group, he knew I was not interested in dating someone his age.

Señor Creepy Control Freak (SCCF) and I commented on a few posts in English and Spanish, and I thought he was reasonably cool. We met in person at a party, and he offered to hang out with me from time to time so we could speak in Spanish. Go to concerts, museums, stuff like that.

So I friended him. And almost immediately regretted it, because he posted on my wall:

Thanks for the friend add. I can already feel your arms around me!

You can what now? I sought to clarify:

You know we're just friends, right?

His response was not comforting.

Friends hug each other all the time.

Oh-kay. Kinda weird. Took that post off my wall.

SCCF also started posting some very strange comments on my status updates. For example: I ordered some clothing online and was waiting impatiently for the packages to arrive. So I posted some nonsense like

Online shopping is the gift that gives twice -- once when you order and then again when you receive the goods. But I want my little black dresses NOW!

My friend Faigie sympathized, and is always on the lookout for a nice LBD:

Faigie: send me links, I need one

So I commented and included some links. My friend Bruria approved:

Bruria: I am sure you will look amazing in whichever dress you choose to wear. Enjoy them all with good health

As did my friend Lisa:

Lisa: Thanks for the links. I will check them out. Can never have too many LBDs.

And then SCCF weighed in:

SCCF: Can we put an M or F at the beginning of our postings? This way, with an F, we men know that the posting is without any interesting contents whatsoever, and we save ourselves valuable time. If there's an M its worth reading.

I'm trying to be more diplomatic and less impulsive these days. On Facebook and in real life. So I didn't respond with my first thought -- "Who the hell are you to tell me how I should post my status updates?"

Ayelet: You may want to unsubscribe from my status updates

That did not satisfy SCCF.

SCCF: Why? Some of your postings are highly interesting and your comments too! I mean, all M.

Still trying to be polite.

Ayelet: I can't tell the difference between what you consider M and F. Sorry.

Actually not all that sorry -- not at all sorry -- but again trying to be diplomatic.

SCCR: Well, a posting about your dress with 3 or 5 buttons ordered early evening or late nite is not very interesting for a man, I guess....

That's not my problem, dude. You don't have to read everything I post. Fortunately, my Very Modest Friend changed the subject.

VMF: Too bad the dress above is so short...

Initial thought: "That is fine for a big slut like Ayelet." Second thought:

Ayelet: It will be longer on me. I'm very short.

Fortunately, VMF approves.

VMF: That works! I'm 5'10" and all my height is in my legs.

Apparently that was interesting to SCCF:

SCCF: Wow, legs with a woman on top, that should be interesting!

VMF is modest, but she's no prude.

VMF: My husband finds it convenient.

Which concluded that elevated exchange of ideas. A few days later, I put together a "manager's" computer desk chair that I ordered online. I was very proud of myself, but unfortunately actually sitting in the chair gave me horrible muscle spasms. The seat is too long for my thighs, and I couldn't make the chair short enough so my feet could rest on the ground. Some of my friends sympathized.

Lisa: Poor us short girls

Ayelet: Well, I learned two things: 1) I can assemble a desk chair, 2) I need a REALLY small one.

Apparently this was interesting enough to SCCF:

SCCF: Good Voch, hope you had a nice Shabbes celebration! Could you send me a pic of the chair? I happen to be on the market for a desk chair.

Selling it to a friend is easier than taking it back to the store.

Ayelet: It's $100 online, I'm offering it for $50!

And I attached a link to a photo of the chair. A few other friends weighed in.

Margalit: Super proud of you for assembling it yourself!!

Bina: Good for you for your efforts, but sorry the result was not up to par!

Ayelet: Well, it was a learning experience. Hopefully someone will want to buy the chair off me.

SCCF: Ayelet, can it be used if one is not a manager but a plain proletary?

Ayelet: I won't tell if you don't

And that was the end of that exchange of ideas. But I came away with the impression that SCCF was interested in the chair. Unfortunately, when he called at 10:15 p.m. last night, I was too tired to talk to him. I'm stuck in my work schedule; my body wakes early and falls asleep early. Also, who calls a casual acquaintance that late at night?

I called him back this morning (Labor Day, so I was at home). "Sorry I couldn't talk last night," I said. "After 10 p.m. is late for me."

"10 p.m. is late for you? Aren't you a grown woman?" he asked.

Huge red flag. Because it makes people feel anxious and insecure, putting someone on the defensive is a preferred technique of abusers, whether they target adults or children. It's a way of exerting control.

"I'm a grown woman who gets up at 5:30 a.m. every day, so 10 p.m. is late for me," I clarified.

That didn't help. "But you didn't have to wake up at 5:30 a.m today, did you?" he asked.

Am I on trial here? "I still wake up early and get tired early; my body is used to that," I said.

"So you're not in control of your own body, is that what you're saying?" he persisted.

"Were you calling about the chair?" I asked, trying to change the subject and increasingly uncomfortable.

"No," he said. "I realized that I've sat on chairs like that, and they make my tushy sweat. I need one of those mesh chairs, but they're very expensive."

First: um, GROSS. I don't want to think of his aged hairy ass sweating. Second: cheapskate.

"Try craigslist," I said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You know I'm in a fight with Sol in the Facebook group," SCCF said.

"What kind of fight?" I asked.

"Well, he posted that the first time you have sex with someone is always the best time."

I.

Was.

Stunned. Did he seriously start talking about having sex with a woman he barely knows? How on earth could anyone consider this appropriate?

"And I disagree," he continued blithely. "I believe that each time you have sex with a woman, it gets better and better. And if you're a person like me who likes to have sex every day --"

I cut him off. "I'm not comfortable talking about this with you," I said, trying to purge my mind's eye of the image of his sweaty hairy aged ass banging some unfortunate woman.

"Why not?" he pushed. "You discuss sex with me in the Facebook group all the time."

Well, now I know what he really wants from me. And it's not a chair or a Spanish lesson.

"I'm not comfortable talking to you," I said. "I'm hanging up." Which I did. He immediately called back and left an indignant message about how all over the world people understand it's rude to hang up on someone else. Apparently he thinks all over the world it's appropriate to push women into talking about sex, or whatever you want -- and only what you want. I disagree.

Also: WTH? He knows I'm intelligent. He knows I'm feisty. Why on earth would he think he could push me into having sex with his aged hairy sweaty ass?
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Sunday, September 01, 2013

Too many people are dead to me

I'm starting to wonder how weird it is that I don't talk to my mother or sister, and that I've razored several friends clean out of my life.

I cut out my mother because I finally realized what a destructive impact her degenerate pervert boyfriend had on my life. Now I feel like I'm approaching satisfied with my life. Do I let her back in, or keep her out?

She's still feeding, clothing, and sheltering him. It nauseates and infuriates me when I think of it. So I try not to think of her, which is easier when I don't talk or email with her. But she's my mother. Most of what she did for me was good. I was always fed and clothed. Went on decent vacations. Was put through an expensive private college. Braces on my teeth, even oral surgery to correct a snaggletooth.

So does all that good outweigh the extreme and negative influence her boyfriend's pornography had on my sexual and psychosocial development? I don't know.

With my sister Jerusha it's a little simpler: she cannot be nice to me, and I will no longer tolerate that. This became painfully clear during Shira's bat mitzvah, almost exactly a year ago.

Jerusha was rude and invalidating throughout the bat mitvah weekend. My dress was wrinkled; I borrowed her iron, not noticing there was some kind of crap seared onto its surface. It melted the polyester chiffon. Horrified, I showed it to her. She shrugged; I would obviously have to improvise. But she went out of her way to lend diamond and sapphire earrings to my cousin's 10-year-old daughter.

Basically, my sister is incredibly nice to everyone except me, and incredibly rude and hurtful to me. This was abundantly clear when I met her friends as they arrived to the party. They knew everything about my cousins Yaffa and Yonina, but had no idea who I was. Because Jerusha has repeatedly refused to be my friend on Facebook. I don't think they knew she had a sister.

I told my aunt that my sister was horrible to me all weekend and I didn't want to go out to dinner with everyone two nights after the bat mitzvah, especially since I was in a lot of pain after some sacroiliac injections. This prompted my sister to send me the following email:

I have heard that I upset you at the party. I assure you it wasn't intentional, not sure what I did, but I apologize if I hurt your feelings.

I was very glad you were there, and so were all the kids, especially (the batmitzvah girl). My kids really love you and want to see more of you.

I will have the kids for Shmini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, you're welcome to join us. I don't plan on putting up a succah this year, too lazy, and the kids will be with their father for first days and Shabbat of Sukkot anyway.

This is after I took her older daughter for frozen yogurt to free up my sister's time, paid for my sister and nieces' mani-pedis so that we could get out of the salon quicker (Jerusha didn't even thank me), and prevented a major meltdown by helping my younger niece get marker ink off her hands before the party even started. And then was humiliated by having to explain to Jerusha's friend that she actually has a sister. But Jerusha has NO IDEA what she's done that is hurtful to me. Obviously it is all in MY head.

Note that she says "My kids really love you and want to see more of you." Obviously she doesn't love me, but she has to endure my presence, with the absolute worst grace you've ever seen.

I wrote back:

It's never intentional. You just can't bring yourself to be truly nice to me. You are nice to everyone except me. I totally get why your husband left you for his secretary. If it weren't for the kids I would cut you out of my life completely. At this point I'd rather go to their father to spend time with the kids, but I know that will never happen.

Actually, it has happened. Several times. Because her ex-husband's wife didn't refuse my friend request on Facebook. I just got back from another visit, to celebrate my nephew's birthday. We all went out to lunch -- Oedipus, Shira (Malka was at a birthday party), ex-BIL Bill, his new (and pregnant) wife, and her daughter from her previous marriage.

It's weird, but it's working. The kids are happy -- they get to see me, and I don't disparage their father and stepmother, whom they love. So there's no reason for me to let my sister back into my life. I can access the children without her, and she's never going to treat me with anything approaching respect. At this point, she can have one of my kidneys if she needs it, but nothing else. (I doubt she'd thank me if I gave her a kidney.)

I've cut a few friends out of my life over the past several years. But I don't feel as conflicted about shedding friends as I do with relatives. I have many, many amazing friends who support and comfort me; I don't need to hang on to those who let me down. Sometimes I wonder, though: is my let-me-down threshold too low?

I want to be a forgiving person. But I've been hurt and let down by so many people who essentially got away with it. I had no control over those situations. But I have control over whom I befriend and unfriend. Am I exerting it wisely?
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Hypomanic -- or just happy?

Since lowering my lithium dosage, I've been feeling remarkably happy. So happy, in fact, that I started worrying. Was the lower dose sufficient to prevent another episode of hypomania?

I've been processing this on twitter for a few weeks.

8/15/13: Home improvement projects are so much easier when you're not depressed.

I've been making small improvements to my apartment. Reorganizing, throwing out clutter, putting anti-slip appliques on the tub. Even bought and assembled a new desk chair.

I should blog. I should be productive. I haven't slept well in a week. How do parents of infants manage? Although I was moderately productive at work. I supervised counselors all over the place, met with a few patients, signed a bunch of charts.

I haven't been sleeping well. Which is sometimes a harbinger of hypomania, or a symptom of seasonal depression, or a result of work stress. Without going into details, I've been dealing with a number of stressful situations and people at work. But it's not getting me permanently down. Even if I get very angry or anxious thinking about or dealing with a particular situation or person, I shake it off and keep... enjoying life.

That's right. Enjoying life. Even though my knees hurt constantly, my job is stressful, my surgery has twice been denied by my insurer, and of course I'm still single.

So am I happy, or hypomanic?

I'm happy- but not TOO happy. Gone is the simmering resentment anger bitterness envy. I'm content with my life for the first time in- ever? Is this the person I was always supposed to be? Are the seething neurochemicals in my brain finally balanced? Am I naturally exuberant?

I'm productive & efficient. I'm in control. I make people happy. I solve problems @ home & work, & everything is so EASY. Not simple or oversimplified. But I just think of the right intervention for a patient or the right way to organize my shower & it works.

Life is working out. Want to go to a party to see friends, not to meet a husband. Feeling like that's enough of a reason to leave the house.

I'm not hypomanic. I'm just productive, creative, effective, efficient, hilarious, empathetic, vivacious, solution-oriented. And... happy.

I almost don't recognize myself. But this is who I want to be. I see how I'll progress- get my LCSW and CASAC, then a better job. Organize & fix up my apartment. Get a cat. Make a nice life for myself no matter my marital status.

1 symptom of hypomania is "excessive involvement in pleasurable activities" - shopping, sex, food, etc. Been shopping a lot but not SPENDING a lot. I'll pore over a makeup store for an hour & buy a lipstick for $1. My bills are paid. No debt.

Have not been having sex with strangers, or friends for that matter. What I do in my own home w/a vibrator and @JamesDeen is - reasonable.

So far, I'm not hypomanic. I'm just exuberant and managing my life.

I hope the last tweet is true. But I worry, especially when I'm not sleeping.

8/16/13: Up at 2am agin. Sigh. Work stress. Hope I sleep Friday night. At least I have fun plans for Saturday and Sunday.

Perspective: almost 20 yrs after my bipolar Dx, I finally feel like I'm really the person I'm supposed to be. Question is, do I stay with the psychiatrist who didn't help me change my meds to get to this point? A psychiatrist who, incidentally, doesn't take my insurance? He knows me well, but is that enough to stay with him?

one thing's for sure: as many bad mistakes as I've made, I'm still grateful for the ones I haven't made, or married ;)

Enjoying making weekend plans. Tomorrow: lunch w/friends. Sunday: baseball game w/friends. Next Sunday: hope to see nieces/nephew.

Labor Day Weekend: hope to go to CT and bake with a friend (lemon bars and red velvet cupcakes, not marijuana).

Again struck by how easy and enjoyable life is when you're not depressed! Even when you don't have a bf/husband/lover! don't get me wrong, I still want a husband, or at least a lover, but I'm not MISERABLE without one or obsessed with finding one

Making use of terminal insomnia: extra time in the morning to ice my knees & get dressed.

I've been really enjoying my life, and it's been so effortless.

8/18/13: Enjoyed the simple pleasure of wandering thru a flea market, not kept at home by depression or knee pain. Got some bargains too! Going to a party. Just to see my friend & have fun - not to meet a husband. What a difference less lithium makes ;)

Nervous about the party. But not anxious. Blessed difference.

Great party. Good food, saw friends, met new ppl, even got a tattoo. AIRBRUSH tattoo, don't panic, it will fade. Knees will hurt tomorrow.

SHIT is GOING DOWN at work. But I'm still happy. Not deliriously happy. Just calmly joyful. Life on less lithium is AWESOME!

Sometimes I wax philosophical on twitter.

8/19/13: Today was especially stressful, waiting for a shoe to fall that STILL hasn't fallen BUT WILL. Despite this, I'm still joyful and grateful.

Give without thinking about what you'll get, and you'll get more than you can imagine. Or you'll burn out and die.

But not sleeping does take a toll.

8/20/13: Work stress is very bad for my sleep. Not happy. Like they're trying to make me miserable so I'll be too afraid to quit.

Slept badly all last week b/c of work, no sleep 2nite b/c of work. Callin in sick today so I can go out w/friends later. I deserve a life.

fuck, I am SO TIRED but CAN'T SLEEP. I hate terminal insomnia. & my knees are killing me.

I'm not a robot. Mess with me, stress me out, and I will get sick.

OW OW OW OW OW KNEES HURT >:(

You know you're stressed when you lie down on a Stearns&Foster pillowtop mattress & everything hurts. Truly need a mental health day.

Rested. Took Tramadol+Voltaren. Pain eased. Ran some errands, did some more home improvements. Needed this day to heal after all the stress.

Had a great time @ the party. So glad I went. Got a ride home, he didn't want to let me out of the car, but I think he's too young. For the record, we were ONLY TALKING. He wanted me to friend him, so I sent him a friend request. He accepted. Ball's in his court...

Dr. Incompetent called AGAIN, clearing browser history didn't help. So sick of her. I'm glad this is making her miserable.

Terminal insomnia AGAIN. Despite calcium supplement & Vitamin K. But the pervasive body ache is gone, so I'll go in to work & function.


8/24/13: Spontaneously organized my desk drawer. Doing a lot of organizing lately. So EASY when you're not DEPRESSED. Amazing.

8/25/13: Hit 2 parties 2nite. Repulsive men liked me, hot men didn't. Story of my life, but I had fun anyway. Saw some old friends & met some new. Guy said to me, "you seem like a happy person." On the right medication cocktail, I guess I am.

Didn't sleep much, will nap letter. Knees sore, but not as bad as expected. Will have a semi-productive Sunday.

sleep LATER, not LETTER... obviously did not get enough sleep

danced last night, running errands today, pretending I don't have knee problems. we'll see how long that can last.

should blog but feeling lazy. had a massage. masseuse says I'm storing tension in my face & body, retaining water & looking puffy. ya think?

Sorting organizing discarding consolidating, it's all SO EASY when you're NOT DEPRESSED. I feel like I'm who/how I want to be.

8/27/13: woke up OW knee pain OW burning OW OW OW OW OW took Percocet & ibuprofin, can't call in sick 2moro OW OW

Exhausted & in PAIN all day, nevertheless put in a great day's work. Consummate professional, that's Ayelet.

Life would be pretty good if my knees weren't so horrendously painful. I've taken one of almost everything I have, and they still hurt.

Plus side: Knees don't hurt. Minus: skin ITCHES & can't sleep. At least I don't have to run a group today...

I've been wondering about other signs of hypomania.

8/28/13: Horrendous pain & so fucking horny. Must be ovulating under intense barometric pressure. NOT a happy state.

And waxing philosophical again.

I think, therefore I suffer.

But not philosophical for long.

Took painkillers, iced the knees, and received some online shopping deliveries. Ridiculously happy.

Online shopping is the gift that gives twice. Once when you purchase, and then when you receive the package. Unfortunately, I wasn't happy for long.

oh the pain is bad, worse than it has been in a long time. rheumatologist is on vacation. taking more painkillers than I thought I should. not so many that I won't wake up, but more than I usually take in a day. not happy about that, but I have no choice. if I don't sleep tonight, I'm calling in sick tomorrow. this is ridiculous already. every day this week a day of pain.

Dr. Kind was on vacation this past week of pain; won't see him for another few days. Still, even in pain I'm projecting happiness and confidence.

when your lithium dose is correct, and you're happy, people come out of the woodwork to set you up. 2 suggestions in the past 2 days. it really is about the positive energy you project attracting more positive energy. or whatever, but despite the pain I'm happy. 

things are chaotic and negatively-charged at work, but I leave that at the office and don't let it affect me. you have to stop expecting life or work or anything to be FAIR, because it ain't. but I'm doing better @ this job than any previous.

8/30/13: I feel like a junkie for hoping that Dr. Kind will write me a Tramadol script. But I don't see how I'll be able to function otherwise.

The upshot? I'm performing well at work, spending time with friends, addressing my health issues, and making my apartment a pleasanter environment. I'm shopping hellalot online, but not going into debt. So far, I'm happy, not hypomanic. But my friends are invited to watch me carefully for signs of mania.
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