Or maybe just the good and the ugly.
Last night Jonathan and I got out for a nice walk. It was great - I was stircrazy from being stuck in the house all day. It felt so good to be able to move more than a few steps; we walked pretty far with minimal pain on my part. It was a pleasant evening, and we discussed the possibility of moving to New Orleans in a couple of years. A very light rain was falling, keeping us cool. We got home and I stretched for a good half hour or so. It's the first time I've been able to stretch this week because of the abdominal cramps I've been having, so I was really satisfied and felt like I was finally making progress.
Later, he wanted to go out for the third cigarette of the evening. I hate it when he goes out to smoke, for several reasons. 1) I hate that he smokes. 2) I think he smokes way more than he needs to for whatever addiction he may have. 3) I always think something terrible is going to happen to him when he's out there, like he's going to get hit by a car or shot or something. This third one is pretty irrational, but I've had a life that's taught me that crazy nonsensical things can happen at any time and a brain chemistry that just fuels the fire. So I can't help thinking it, but I can usually keep my mouth shut and keep it from bothering me too much.
Well, right now I've just started a drug that's further addling that brain chemistry. So when at midnight he went to leave me yet again, I flipped out. At first he thought I was just giving him hell, but when I started crying he figured it out. He got real frustrated. Keep a man from his cigarette for reasons he doesn't understand, and he's bound to. So I tried to explain it to him as best I could.
And then I made my big mistake. I told him about the hallucinations.
They're just small ones. I've been having them for approximately forever, so to me they're just not that big a deal. I know they're not real. I know they're just a product of this wonky brain chemistry. It's only even notable because they've been gone for several years, and now with this new drug they're back. But it's really not surprising.
I just see little things, or hear little things. What do I see? Animals, mostly. Or bugs. A lot of cats. When I was young, late teens, they were much more elaborate and vivid, and I could look right at them and they didn't go away. Even then though I knew they weren't real. I hear fairly normal sounds really - phones ringing or the computer making a computer noise, only the phone isn't ringing and the computer's closed. Every now and then I hear someone speak, but I could count those instances on my fingers, and we're talking over a span of almost fifteen years. I know what you're thinking, but I never did drugs, not the fun kind. Nope, not even once. Apparently I didn't need to; my brain did these things on its own. Of course there were years of chronic insomnia, which I think helped me along. That by itself can make you hallucinate, and I had real chemical problems on top of it.
So anyway, I told him about the one small visual and multiple small auditory hallucinations that I'd had throughout Tuesday and Wednesday. And he sort of freaked out. I don't exactly understand why that upsets him more than the days when I can't really walk, or when I can't bathe myself. Maybe he thinks I'm really crazy. I feel like he hates me or is disgusted with me. Being the me that I am, this morning I'm half convinced that he's going to postpone the wedding or call it off or leave me or throw me out or god knows what.
This morning after he went to work I emailed him some info on how common it is for anti-depressants to cause hallucination. I slept terribly, which I want to blame on taking two drugs that inhibit norepinephrine reuptake, but I have to remember that this happened several times last week too - before I started the new pill.
I can't believe that Monday I have to go back to my superintense, high pressure job, and try to deal with all of this and that at the same time. I feel like trying to do it all is going to make me have a nervous breakdown. And of course, it wouldn't be the first time.