Sad and upset, I wake up in tears, crying this and that. Last night was a nightmare, and so were my dreams—my dreams were utter nightmares.
Proudly, I have succeeded in lowering my caffeine intake, having had only five cups of coffee, yesterday. Until noon or so—then I cut myself off, being my own bartender.
I wanted to be asleep by 9-10:00 but even meditation couldn’t save me from the constant worry and terror in my head. I knew I was going to have to help cook dinner for the house (the students?) the next evening, and big deal! But for the love of God, I couldn’t stop stressing out about it. I knew I’d have to actually get up and out of bed by morning. My goal was 10 AM.
So it’s now 10:30. I had morning meds and two cups of coffee. With my coffee, I sat with Steve-O and started crying. I said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” even though I should have known. Staff was keeping tabs on my crying spells and no sooner they added the mood disorder part to my Sz. Re-diagnosing me with what’s called Schizoaffective Disorder. I’m still sticking to calling it Sz, and not SzA. Enough is enough.
I should prepare (regarding my need for Steve…) Just in case one of us is discharged before the other. Even though that time will (and would) come and I’ll figure something out.
Steve had nursed a Red Bull between 9 and 10 last night, when the two of us were having what seemed like contagious, identical symptoms—symptoms: the Chaos of the Mind. Steve was totally wired, so much that he took off all his clothes and went out for a jog around the residential neighborhood. Thankfully Steve returned, not arrested.
I was quite empathic to Steve-O’s emotions and feelings of being wildly looped, from the caffeine. Thankfully, our concomitant symptoms ended about a half-hour later, and we just talked like we were in summer camp, about our experiences with the Sz, and how we were never going to get to sleep.
Midnight came, and we were both dead asleep.