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Too much stress--I can't do it anymore.

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I don't really know why I'm writing this. I just need to get some things out in a safe environment.


There is so much going on for me right now, and I'm having major issues coping and remaining stable enough to work and complete my schoolwork.


My apartment complex apparently has a stupid rule that a household cannot fully consist of full-time students (which I am) and still live there, so they're kicking me out at the end of the month. I have nowhere else to go, and I don't know what I'm going to do about it.


I've been having issues breathing and have been to the ER twice in the last 5 days. They say it's because of idiopathic urticaria (severe acute hives and inflammation of the esophagus/face) and there's no cure except antihistamines and waiting 6 weeks for it to clear up on its own. I have limited health insurance which doesn't cover ER visits or the drugs they gave me to calm me down enough to breathe, so I'll have hospital bills out the ass soon which I can't afford.


I had to leave work today because I wasn't able to breathe, so I came home and took Benadryl and Prednisone. My boss looked at me like I was just making up excuses not to work and basically told me I was an inconvenience to the whole staff. I came back with discharge papers from both ERs and the medications I have been prescribed to stop the swelling and hiving to show him I'm not lying. He can kiss my ass. 


I have schoolwork that needs to be completed, but I just can't concentrate and don't have a desire to complete any of it with all of the other stuff I'm dealing with. I just feel like I'm being punished for going back to school to complete my degree (which I had to take a hiatus from in 2010 because I had a breakdown that lasted 10 months), and I don't know why the universe has decided that I have to be on the verge of another breakdown RIGHT NOW. Finals are coming up, bills are due that I don't have the money to pay for, I've applied for disability and am waiting on that, I'm afraid to go to work because I think I'll stop breathing like I did last week, and my glasses broke today just to top things off. 


I know I'm bitching far more than I need to. I just hold things in so long and once they need to come out, they usually come out sideways and I end up hurting myself or someone else verbally/emotionally in the process of releasing the pent-up emotions. I am planning on seeing my pdoc tomorrow to get some meds adjusted. I also need to see a counselor, but I don't like them because I've yet to encounter one that actually believes my disorder is real and that I'm crazy, not lazy.


My dad is supportive of me, but he doesn't understand the disorder. Fortunately, my god-mother and I have the same thing, so we are a support system for each other. She told me to look on here and realize that I'm not alone and people are struggling and surviving and thriving that have bipolar and anxiety disorders, and things will get better soon. But I'm really having a difficult time and wanted to express my emotions to someone who completely understands the cycles of emotions of bipolar. 

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I'm sorry you are going through this but glad your Godmother brought you to this site.  Welcome to CB!


I've never heard of in my life of an apartment building not allowing full-time students (as you described, as a full household) to live there.  IMO if you can pay rent and all you should be able to live there.  And your boss sounds like a complete jerk.  I'm so glad you brought those ER papers to show him; hope he was embarrassed and apologized for saying what he did.  Not that he should have said it to begin with though.


Have you ever seen an allergy/immunology DR?  I have asthma and am on inhalers on a daily basis to prevent attacks form happening and I have only had maybe 3 attacks in the past year.


When you get the hospital bills, maybe you can call the hospital and set up a payment plan you can afford so it isn't as overwhelming.

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Hi, welcome to CB.

I'm sorry to hear about the constant struggle, glad you've found us, and hope we can be of some help!


What a jerk (trying not to use stronger language) of a boss. ER documentation shows more than enough. You know, breathing is pretty important to living and all, I hope he gets that through his brick of a head!


Feel free to bitch here. Start a blog and bitch all you want, I do. Come into that chat room if you want immediate feedback or some people to talk to. The topic varies, there are sometimes lots of people, or just a few. It is moderated (people in blue, purple, or admins are orange) and crisis takes priority. Blogging helps a lot. It doesn't have to make sense. If you need help setting one up, just ask.


I'm glad you have someone to support you. I'm also glad you are getting treatment, and reaching out for help.


For your housing situation, talk to your pdoc about community support. A member here talks about 211 a lot. There is a website per state that can give assistance in living arrangements, I think with financial stuff.. I'm not from the US, so I'm not sure how it works there. We have it in Canada, too. You can also call them. I prefer websites, I hate phones.


Also, ask about them kicking you out by the end of the month - they might have to give you more than just 30 days notice in some places. Here, its 60. If you paid first/last rent, they might owe back. And with the ER, they will set up a payment plan as far as I know. As long as they get something back eventually. Again, your pdoc can help, if there is a students with disabilities office at your school, they can help, and 211 can too. There is a lot of community help.


Welcome, and I hope we can help too!

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How's this for a rapid cycling 48 hours:



I got to work on time (after taking a nap right before I went in because I felt like shit and my face was swelling and I wasn't breathing right--but I just *HAD* to go in..stupid me), clocked in, told my boss what I said ^ up there ^, and left early only to come over to my godparents' house and have another panic attack, take a benzo, and cry hysterically and feel depressed and write ^ that ^, feel more depressed about my living situation and work situation and life situation and stupidity of going in in the first place situation. Cried some more. Took more benzos and 50mg Lyrica. Watched tv and ate dinner. Cried some more. Went home and went to bed wishing I could die and not have to deal with all of this shit. 



I wake up fine and dandy: no stress, no panic, my throat was fine, I wasn't shaking, I was breathing well, and I didn't have a care in the world. I get to work, clock in, tell everyone I'm feeling better--no stress, no swelling, no numbishness in my face or throat, etc... About 5pm (an hour and a half into my shift), I start swelling up again, my face goes numb, my eyes swell shut, I can't breathe, and I have the most massive panic attack I've had in years while I'm checking out a customer in line and there's 4.3 billion people behind her. I tell her I'm in the middle of a panic attack and she asks me if I need anything (right...like anything could get me out of that situation quickly enough). I say no and call another staff member to take over while I freak the hell out in the break room, stop breathing, take 2.0 Xanax (which would normally knock my ass OUT), cry hysterically, and apologize to one of my colleagues who had just walked in to put her stuff away. She asks me if I need some water. I say no and go about my business crying and hyperventilating some more. I finally start breathing enough to scoot on the floor over to my locker to get my keys and wallet and tell my boss (the same one from ^ up there ^) that I'm taking my lunch break now because I need to calm down and go home and take a Lyrica (which I did, and 20 minutes later was back on the floor--still not breathing well, a little high, but standing and talking, nonetheless) and he looked at me like "ok..whatever. I have no idea what you're talking about because you look fine to me.."

Then, at some point during the evening, a customer comes in to return a vibrator (which we do carry in the store for what-god-only-knows-reason) which she claims her daughter-in-law says isn't working (LIKE I WANTED TO KNOW THAT). Of course she doesn't have a receipt, so I have to call my manager (a different one) to come over to return the thing while I stand there with this broken vibrator on my counter and looking at it (again, I'm a little high from the benzos and Lyrica) thinking to myself "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" My female manager comes over to do the return without a receipt. She talks to the customer about the broken vibrator. The customer says it doesn't work and that she shouldn't have bought it, but her daughter-in-law wanted it because she saw another one on the TV but it was too expensive or something. My manager kind of shakes her head and giggles at the statement. The customer asks what is so funny. My manager said she bought the same frickin vibrator at our store and that *hers* worked. I literally could have died for a number of reasons (least of which was the fact that I was laughing so hard that I stopped breathing for a whole 2 minutes.) I was speechless, but being high, I chimed in with "so does mine..." not realizing that I had actually claimed to 1. Have a vibrator, 2. Know that said imaginary vibrator worked, and 3. Claim that I bought it at our store and was very proud at that fact. [As I'm writing this, I'm crying I'm laughing so hard. I really can't believe any of this happened in real life. OMG.] Needless to say, it was quite an evening after that. I continued to be on a blissfully benzo-and-Lyrica-induced high until we closed and started cleaning up stuff. I got home and took my evening meds and went to bed. I got to sleep fairly quickly in about 45 minutes. 



I get up. I'm fine. I go to my other job that starts at 10:30am. I get there, my Thai boss Amanda (who speaks broken English, at best) says "What you doing here? You go home rest! Wei Yi (her son who is a med student) say you need rest. Doctor no know what wong. I don't want you *makes a motion of me passing out on the floor*. [Meanwhile, I'm dying inside from the hilarity of the mimery I'm witnessing.] You come next week to work. You go home rest. Bye." So, off I go home to 'rest'. On my way home, I scoot by my pdoc's office to pick up a rx for more Xanax. I then call another apt complex to set up an appointment to tour a unit, talk finances, etc... She says we can meet at 12. I say ok. 


Before I leave to speak with her in person, I run by my current apt manager's office (whom is now FINALLY in his office so that I can speak with him since he's been avoiding me and all..) to ask him what the hell is going on with the re-certification, reapplication, etc... which I have been calling him about for the last 5 consecutive days. He's lackadaisical at best about the questions I'm asking him. I get irate to the point that I zoom past anxiety and go into outright rage at him. The Irish in me kicks in, and I literally turn red I'm so mad. I chew, cuss, and tear his ass out. I finally get an answer to the questions I've been asking, and the bottom line is I have to move out. And I have to move in with my godparents in the meantime while I try to find another place. Fortunately, I have very powerful friends in town on my side that are doing all they can to make something happen quickly. We'll see how that goes.


So, now that we've settled that, skip forward 2 hours to 3pm. I go home to take my antihistamines because my throat is swelling again. I have another massive panic attack. I take another 50mg Lyrica. I sit in my apartment (and this is where it gets hilarious--just wait) for an hour and a half listening to Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman" repeatedly and looking at my 40+ item collection of Osmond memorabilia: CDs, DVDs, VHS recordings of the Donny and Marie talk show from the 90s, all 3 of Marie's books, a large notebook full of photos, the Osmond Family trivia book, magazine clippings, entire magazines that I bought simply because Marie was on the cover, hand-written stuff from when I was 12 years old going on and on and on about how wonderful Marie is and how strong, brave, talented, amazing, funny, admirable, etc..etc...etc..., the first hand-drawings I ever did (which are here: https://twitter.com/aliaschic03/status/400759707863769089/photo/1/large?utm_source=fb&utm_medium=fb&utm_campaign=aliaschic03&utm_content=400759707863769089, and a 45 LP of Donny's "Puppy Love" single. Yes, I was incredibly obsessed with the Osmonds , particularly Marie, at 12 years old. Little did I know that I would have my own breakdown 10 years later.  


Skip forward another 3+ hours. I'm calming down a bit. My antihistamines have kicked in. My throat still feels icky, and my tongue feels swollen, but I can breathe. I have a massive amount of homework to do, but all I want to do is update this (which I am) and look at pictures of people's kids on Facebook. This is surprising to me because I really cannot stand children. I don't know what's wrong with me. Either this medication is making my brain change, or there's something in the air. Probably nostalgia from looking at my childhood obsession stuff. Oh, I totally forgot to mention that I was definitely rapid cycling at 12. There's so much random Osmond shit in my collection it's ridiculous. And I keep it updated! That's the thing. Today I updated the fact that Marie's son Michael died in 2010. The same year I had my breakdown. Why do I know this stuff?? 


Anyway. Back to the point.


So that's been my last 48 hours: 3 breakdowns, 5 panic attacks total, 150mg Lyrica, 2.0 mg Xanax, 3 comedic moments, and a still-swollen throat, cheeks, eyes, and tongue. 


(Side note: my godmother also has rapid cycling and had to over-drug herself last night with 200mg Seroquel, 2.0 Klonopin, 150mg Lyrica, a muscle-relaxer, and an anti-nausea pill to get to sleep. She's zoned out and wanted me to tell you all that--probably because of the drugs in her system making her a little too relaxed about stuff...LOL) 


How are you guys?

Edited by mastiffgirl
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The vibrator thing made my day. :-)  Thank you.

Having worked in emergency medical services for 20 years I say don't worry about going to ER.  If you need to, do it.  If "they" don't like it, fuck em.  

Don't worry about the bills.  I know that is easy to say, but they HAVE to treat you regardless of ability to pay.  Thankfully, debtor's prison doesn't exist anymore and it's debt.  Just debt.

I identify so much with this post.  Every up and down.  

Thank you for writing this.  I find it helps a lot to write things out and know at least one other person read it (instead of a diary).  I hope you feel better.

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That kinda of stress would make a sane person struggle, my admiration to you for dealing with it head on.




Is there anyone who can help you access housing? A friend or a support worker who can help you get hooked up? Do you have a back up plan of a friends couch?


Maybe speaking to your boss in a private meeting, filling him on the health thing with papers and asking if there are things you can do to keep working  as much as possible e.g. changing hours, flexible working, somewhere to go have a break while the treatment kicks in if you have  breathing difficulties etc. If you cannot work at all, then see a GP and get official sick leave so your boss can arrange cover.


School is clearly our priority. But maybe speaking to the disability services at school can help you arrange finals ad keep you in the studying game even if you are in crisis right now?

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  • 2 weeks later...

I'm very sorry I haven't responded to all of these suggestions, but I've been in and out of the ER three times in the last 2 weeks with swelling in my face and neck, and my throat has closed up on me so many times I can't remember. I called an ambulance Friday morning at 3:45am because my lips and left side of my face were swollen shut, and I was having problems breathing and speaking. It scared the hell out of me. So I haven't been able to update anything for a while. Between school and work and apartment crap, I've been very stressed.  :horny:


I want to thank you all for suggesting so many things for me to do. I have figured out how to pay the ER bills: bit by bit, and $10 a month for the rest of my life. I got fired from my waitress job last week, so I'm in the process of trying to find another job to make up for that loss. The owner said she didn't want me to have another breathing problem during the lunch rush, so she told me I was on an "on call" status, which basically means she doesn't want me there screwing things up. But it's fine with me because it was a very high stress job, which is exactly what I don't need right now with everything else going on. 


I got paperwork from the disability office and from a lawyer's office that will represent me if it goes to court. I hope something comes through on that end of things. It would be a great relief to know that something was coming in to my bank account. 


I've been cycling for the last 3 weeks since all of this started. Up down, up down, up down, up down. Mostly 2-3 times per day. My friend whom I'm a personal assistant for has officially seen a rapid cycler in motion. She's very supportive of me, though, which I am very thankful for. 


School is coming along OK for now because I've sent pictures of my rash and swollen face to my professors (I take online classes--can't deal with a bunch of people in a room that I can't escape), so they're giving me extensions on stuff. That's a big relief. I've decided that I'm not going to worry about my assignments being perfect, just getting them done so I can move on with my schoolwork. I'm dropping down to 6 hours next semester, so hopefully that will be a more reasonable and do-able load for me. 


I HATE phones. Can't stand to talk to more than 3 people on the phone in 1 day. It just takes too much energy. I'm OK in person for a bit, for whatever reason, but phones are just exhausting for me. Just thought I'd mention that. 


My god-parents are letting me stay over at their place during all of this swelling stuff and apartment stuff. I feel stuck like I can't seem to become independent again. I feel like the college kid that's been away for 4 years and is moving back home. It's frustrating for me because I can't find a place that's within my price range and enough space for me and my stuff. I just want something to come up soon. I don't want to have to be at my god-parents' place. Makes me feel weak and like I can't take care of myself.  :( Good news is that they don't mind me staying there. I'm thankful for their generosity. 


I'm thankful for this forum, too. Makes me feel like I'm not alone and that there are other people dealing with the same shit. 

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I'm glad you checked back.  Sounds like the swelling and throat closing is really scary!  I'm glad you are ok, and I hope it doesn't happen again.  Your Godparents are a blessing and I am so glad they are helping  you out.


Have you talked to your pdoc lately?  It sounds like maybe you could use a med tweak with all the cycling happening so often.

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I went to see my pdoc about the rash because I thought it was Lamictal, but he said it was a very low chance that all of this was from Lamictal, but that's the last I've spoken to him. I called him about prescribing some Clonazepam to help me sleep so I don't go through my Xanax like crazy (like I have been lately), but he hasn't called me back yet and I haven't called my pharmacy to check on it. I'm just really lethargic and my brain is all fuzzy from the panic attacks and sleepless nights. I can't think in complete thoughts or follow a train of thought for more than 2 or 3 seconds, which wouldn't normally freak me out because I just get that way sometimes, but I'm kinda worried about it because of all this other swelling and rash stuff. I supposed it's normal for Lamictal to play tricks on you at times. I don't care, as long as I'm calm and my mood is stable. That's ALL I care about.  I don't care if my entire body is covered in red specks from this rash, I just want to be calm, have nothing swell up on me, and be able to breathe. Those are my requests in life LOL! And I want a place to live. But, yeah. That's what I need to be happy. :)


And, yes, absolutely my god-parents are a blessing!!! And it helps that my god-mother and I share the same disorders. She has PTSD on top of the other stuff, which I don't (or haven't been formally diagnosed, anyway. I think I have it. I get triggered at a certain time of morning if I'm still not asleep, and I get triggered if I'm in bed and I wake up in panic. It reminds me of my breakdown from 2010.), but we are both night owls, usually get manic at the same time, can be each other's support system if the other one isn't in panic or depression, and have a hell of a lot of fun looking up random shit on the internet at 3am! We actually tried to look up OTHER rapid cycling people on YouTube who took a video of themselves being in full mania at night. We just wanted to see what we looked like. As if we couldn't have taken a video of ourselves. *duh* 


But back to the point (see, Lamictal has done my brain a doozy), I'm trying to remain as calm as possible, but the tingling sensation in my face and neck tells me my efforts are not working. My god-mother has told me that if I get too nervous tonight when I go home (because I've been crashing on their couch and spare bed for the last few nights since my ambulance ride because I'm afraid I'll stop breathing in the middle of the night or swell up again or something drastically horrific because that's how my brain works) I can come back here and sleep in their spare bedroom. I'm probably going to be here starting next week anyway, so I guess I just might need to get used to the idea of sleeping in their spare bed. (Meanwhile, my inner child is going "BUT I DON'T WANNAAAAAA...") I hope I can find a place sooner rather than later, but we'll see. 


I guess I need to go home and try to sleep or do something productive if I can't sleep (like pack up my Osmond collection..). 


Thank you all again for the support. I will check in at some point this week. I have to work and stuff, but I'll make sure to get back on here. 

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The overwhelming stimulation coming in from all angles is exciting during hypomania and you can rule the world.  At other times it's like being smothered by a loud, heavy elephant on your chest.


Glad to see some good things! 


Also please know that (however trite it sounds) we've all been there and we've all been back.  The trick is staying back.  


Laugh!  Cry!  Be human!  Not bipolar human, but unique, individual, beautiful human!


And know that empathy is only as far away as your computer.

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Refreshing to read about the solutions that yer finding to all of the stuff that has cropped up! It shows what a strong person you are :)

Curious-any chance that you have some sort of food allergy? My bf has a severe dairy allergy & gets the same symptoms.

Keep it up-rooting for ya!

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Well, I'm back on the merry-go-round that is Rapid Cycling. 


(Before I forget and get started on something that will no doubt make me forget what I need to say: I'm not aware of any food allergies, but I have called my dad and he hasn't gotten back to me yet about any allergies that run in the family. I need to call him again.)

Short version: Talked with my pdoc today around 2:45pm about getting some Klonopin added to my list of meds, he said he would call it in. Have not been to get that yet because other stuff happened. 


Literally 30 minutes later, I'm getting to work 10 min early, not nervous or anything. I see one of my managers outside and say hi and 


(Oh, another thing: my god-mother [the one with rapid cycling] just got up to get water and came back with a piece of paper to keep a log of the number of times someone is knocked over the head on "Lost" and a magazine. She never got the water.)


anyway, back to my story..


I get to the break room with my manager and tell her the update on my rash/not breathing and the ambulance ride I took on Friday morning and then I started crying because I had the distinct feeling that I just DID NOT need to be at work tonight but I didn't want to leave because I need the money. I work register on Mondays, but being around that much energy right after a really stressful weekend when I had JUST overcome my fear of my couch and going to sleep on it because that's when the swelling in my lips started--it just was too much for me to take. So I told her I felt like my body and nerves were telling me to go home. She said she would talk with my GM. A few minutes later, my god-father comes into the store (the one married to my god-mother with rapid cycling--he's seen some shit with her, so he's used to our collective craziness) and I run and give him a hug and break down crying again. He tells me I need to stay at work and figure something out of how to deal with my issues and that the day will pass whether or not I'm at work. He also tells me the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, which makes me laugh. I spend the next 20 minutes talking with him and my god-mother over the phone. She tells me to do what I feel I need to do, and he tells me to stay at work. Eventually, my manager comes back and tells me I can go home and that I won't get in trouble. I tell her that I'm sorry I have to keep leaving work because of this stuff and break down crying again in the middle of the store. I tell her that I'm going to my pdoc to get things straightened out. 


Skip forward to my pdoc's office: 

I get there after calling ahead and asking for someone to talk to because I'm in crisis, and they tell me to just come on in. I get back to a counselor (who I'm going to start seeing on a regular basis because I need to whether or not I like it) because my pdoc isn't in but will be tomorrow morning at 8am (ugh..). I sit there with her and talk about everything that's going on: ambulance ride, 3 hospitals in 2.5 weeks, upping my meds to get to sleep, mood changes, work issues, apartment issues, the list goes on. She then asks me if I have suicidal thoughts, which I do, and then asks me how I would plan on enacting that. I say my meds, so she gives me a plan to sign so that my god-parents dispense my meds to me and I stay over at their house while all of this stuff is straightened out. She also says she would recommend me going into a psych ward, which I believe would just make things worse, and I tell her it scares the hell out of me to even think about that and that I would prefer to try to straighten things out with my pdoc before I take that drastic of a step. Meanwhile, I'm thinking sarcastically to myself, "Oh, this would look GREAT on my disability forms......" So, tomorrow I'm going in to my pdoc to see if I need a complete overhaul on my meds, start doing yoga, take underwater basket weaving classes, or just add in Lithium as a stabilizer like he said before. 


I just want all of this to be settled, I want out of my apartment and into somewhere else, and I want my face and neck to stop swelling up on me. I hope my pdoc can figure something out. All of these mood changes are really wearing on me. 


Will update when something else changes. 

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Ok. About the hospital bills. A lot of hosp have a charity dept (from donations), esp catholic hospitals (I work for one), so please check to see if they offer that. If not just pay what u can each month ($25) and that's all you can do. Just as long as you are paying something, they can't do much legally (from my experience, every place is different).

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With the hospital I go to, if you make under a certain amount/year, it is all free care (if you don't have insurance), and what the insurance doesn't cover if you have it, the hospital pays for.


If you make under a slightly higher amount it is partial free care.  But like what has been said above, every hospital is different.  Is worth checking out though.

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I've been to one of the hospitals before and had a huge bill that I paid on each month, so that one I know will accept small payments each month. The other one I went to, I don't know about, but I will ask the billing department next month. 


I'm moving out this weekend! Woo!! Hopefully that I will relieve a lot of my stress. I went back to my apartment today to start packing up more of my massive amount of stuff that I don't know how I accumulate, and I had 4 panic attacks over an hour and a half of me being there, taking a shower, and packing up my kitchen stuff. That place triggers me something fierce, so I'm glad I'm getting out of there. Way too many bad memories associated with that place. 


My pdoc now has me on a continuous dosage of Seroquel and Lyrica throughout the day to keep me stable enough to function at home and work. He said those two meds in particular have a 6-8 hr half life, so I need to be taking them every 6-8 hours to make sure there is enough in my system to keep me balanced. I missed a dose today, so that's why I was uber nervous at the apartment and now. Even though I'm back at my god-parents' place after going out to a fancy restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner. No triggers there, but for whatever reason, I was panicky and shaking and kept having to bounce my right leg in order to stay sitting down at the table instead of running to the bathroom in a heap of panic and hysteria. Fortunately, or unfortunately (whatever), there was screaming child sitting close to us, so that put me back in my body and out of panic, and instead sent me into rage at the sound of a child screaming (which I hate on any given day anyway--high pitched noises; they just make me cringe). 


As I sit here, I'm realizing that I need to go take that dose of meds that I missed today. I think I'll do that before I forget. 


Thanks as always for the advice, guys!

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