New starts

Appropriately, I started Wellbutrin today, on Ostara. 

I was not prepared for the emotional overwhelm of getting the vaccine on Monday. I was not prepared for the intense feelings of guilt about getting it while Martin couldn't. I was also 100% unprepared for the sudden burst of "omg pandemic is almost over, time to get the meatsuit in shape".

On Monday night I sent a flurry of emails, to my PCP, to my gastroenterologist, to my chiropractor, to a dentist. On Tuesday I scheduled a bunch of appointments. On Wednesday I cleaned frantically in prep for cleaners the next day, and my mood dropped. I started thinking about knives, and guns, and car exhaust while making dinner. I actually scared myself. At midnight, I wrote a short and slightly flippant note to the psychiatrist who I'd connected with in the weeks after my surgery. I considered using the "send later" feature, but figured that if nothing else could convey a sense of urgency, the timestamp would. She responded with an offer of a date in April, but also that we could work something out "if I needed to be seen sooner". 

Readers, I have never been so relieved, and felt so guilty, to see those words. I struggled to just *take the offered help*, but in the end we had a consultation on Friday during her lunch break. Filling out the family history forms was hard, and gave me a lot more fear. There's a lot to cover; anxiety, BPD, schizophrenia, manic depression, bipolar, avoidant depression, and that's not even touching the ADD/ADHD symptoms that are still lingering. (Even if the neurocognitive stuff is decreasing, the inability to focus isn't.) We didn't get through everything, but we ruled out a few things much to my relief. I was absolutely shocked (relieved-shocked) at how quickly we went from "nice to meet you" to "here's a prescription". Wilder still, after avoiding these things all my life, of struggling with everything related to getting mental health care covered, to have insurance cover my prescription with no questions asked, with a copay of $15. Trepidatious but relieved. 

We talked a bit about sleep, and how it's one of the things I've struggled with - and how that's ticked up in difficulty recently, and how incredibly important it is that I get back to having long, restful, non-apneatic sleep. So now I'm also scheduling and ENT appointment. 

I spent a lot of time last night thinking through it all. There's the family history of hating and fearing western medicine. There's the family fear of spending money on doctors. It's a potent combo of scarcity mindset and naturalistic fallacy. There's this idea that if I was a good person, this body would be just fine for the duration of my stay on this earth with no medical intervention necessary, but boy howdy, with a history of chronic sinus issues, an UID, two dental crowns and fucking plate in my neck, that ship has absolutely sailed.

What would I change with this vessel, if I could? There are some [embarrassing items redacted], I'd get my knee and feet looked at by an orthopedist, maybe get Lasik? On a super long shot, I'd consider getting something done to stop my inner thighs chafing. (I don't need or want a thigh gap but I'd like to be able to wear a skirt without shorts and not make my tender thigh skin bleed. And yes I've tried body-glide et al, and I just sweat them all off.)

I've been thinking a lot in the last week about transhumanism - the idea of hacking your body to make it work better for yourself, and I think I'm going to lean into it. The idea that maybe I don't deserve to suffer for all the fun things I did (all those ballroom dance injuries), and that maybe I DO deserve care (what?!) is really hard to process. But I'm getting there.

So this morning I took my vitamins, took my allergy pill, and before I could think too hard about it and psyche myself out about it, my first Wellbutrin. 

Here's to fresh starts.