What’s the saying? The more things change, the more they stay the same. One of the problems with having my flavor of bipolar and mind-weirdness is I tend to get… um… slightly paranoid, even when I’m low-level depressed. A bit moreso when I’m fully manic, but we didn’t go there this time. ^_^ I see things in the shadows that may or may not be there and take drastic steps to avoid the boogeyman. Steps like, oh — deleting my Facebook, closing my WordPress blog, and so on… and completely changing my online name because specters from my past sent a friend request to a dummy Facebook account that hasn’t been active in years. A complete and total overreaction, but it seemed like the right thing to do in my addled mind. Of course, had I been fully manic and/or depressed, I wouldn’t be writing this right now as I would have gone offline entirely. Probably. ^_^ Now that I’m running smoothly again, all I can say is, I apologize if I confused y’all with my shenanigans.
Paranoia is a bitch, and I’m slightly paranoid even when I’m not depressed/manic. It’s part of my core personality to look into the shadows for unseen, unknown, and unnamed enemies. I can’t help it. Blame my strange childhood. I just usually have it under control. I can talk myself down most of the time.
Another thing that happened this past year (and I’m totally blaming the Cymbalta for this) is that I became a recluse. I haven’t been outside of my home in over a year other than to go to the doctor’s office. Douglas and I used to go out every weekend, but not anymore. I can’t even tell you why. I partially blame my diet — it’s no fun to go out to eat when there’s nothing on the menu you can eat — and I partially blame my fading health, walking anywhere is a chore, but mostly I blame me. And the Cymbalta, it totally fucked with my brain. I just haven’t felt like going anywhere. And, when I hit the same level of depression where I started changing my name online, I also hit the fight/flight level of paranoia where I was convinced that everyone in town absolutely knew I was that crazy lady who hasn’t left her house in a year. And now I can’t show my face in this town again. Weird right?
Luckily, I quit the Cymbalta and now the weirdness has passed. And this, dear readers, is why I am always wary of taking these kinds of medications for my Fibromyalgia, because they mess with my bipolar. The thing with bipolar is that everything affects it — seriously, everything. I cannot take sinus meds because they don’t play well with my bipolar. And it affects everything in my life. It’s the same with the thyroid now I guess. I don’t understand why doctors don’t get that. When I refuse medication it’s not because I don’t want to get better, it’s because I don’t want to sit, paranoid and depressed, in my house for year and not even know what’s happening to me until I go off the stupid medication. I’d rather be in pain and sane than the other way around, thank you very much. But that’s just me.
Anyway, all of that was to explain why I put the Willow back in my title. 🙂 I’m back, and not hiding anymore. It was a silly thing to do in the first place. Since I changed my password at Willow’s Corner to a random string of letters I can’t get back to it, so I’ll just continue on here. Thanks for your patience, and I’m sorry for the confusion.