Queer. That's a good word for it. I don't feel sick/crazy and yet part of me, somehow I know that I'm sick/crazy. It's a queer feeling. A powerless feeling yet threatening, like if the dark side gets to powerful suddenly I'll be a suicidal raptor no one can catch.
Even that paragraph was flippin' queer as hell---and they ain't even changed my drugs or nuthin.
So that's a taste of where I'm at.
Talked with the doctor today and there is a newer drug option or the ECT option or the TMS option.
Talked with the hubs and BB (well, ya know, he crawled all over the conversation) and we decided this time ECT is where we need to go with treatment.
It's a bit scary. The procedure, a little bit, but the possibility of success and the pressure of having a life to live is scary too. I am in a place where I've given up, I'm all out not all in, the possibility of taking back responsibility for a broken life when I've been prepared to hand it over like an expired credit card...
Lots of confused feelings.
Funny food note (cuz that's what I do when I'm in a hospital) I ordered angel food cake with raspberry sauce and got a teensy container of raspberry sauce. I guess I circled the sauce part but not the cake? It was pretty funny seeing the conspicuous space for the cake part on my tray. I think someone was feeling crabby down in food services! No cake for Hannah!
Jello tomorrow. Orange. :)
Thanks for reading as I figure this out.