here I am, don’t tread on me (have a banana)

Dear Internet,
Can I just tell you I find it a leetle bit hilarious that I’m wearing my Captain Canada tshirt while wearing Agent Carter’s lipstick today? Consider I was crying over my breakfast earlier about not having had my teddy bear in almost a month, well, any bit of laughter is better than none.
TSTBEH and I have concluded my drugs need to be adjusted, but it is going to be some time before I can see my mediating therapist (about a month). I see my GP in the week following of my arrival back to GR, but she will most likely just renew what I have and not make adjustments. Thus, I need to keep it together for another month. While I know I can, here’s to future epistles on navel gazing from yours truly. Oh. Joy.
I’m not all over the place like I was before the drugs, thank fuck, but the cracks are definitely showing through and it’s making me feel uncomfortable. Mainly, I feel unmotivated, listless, and tired all the time. To prove how tired my body thinks it is, the other day I had 1.2L of hot coffee, a glass of iced coffee, two venti coffees while we ran errands, and I still fell asleep watching TV later that afternoon. With that much caffeine pulsing through my system, one would think I would be wired and bouncing off the ceilings.
One would be wrong.
I haven’t worked on my line edits for TLC project in awhile (I will regret this, I know) but I have been working on another bit of the project and one pattern emerging from my work is that all of my existential crisis’ start in the fall and go through winter. Every major break-up, bold moves, and the like always happened during the fall/winter months. TSTBEH pointed out that part of his depression was ruled by the lack of Vitamin D in his system, which he now supplements with pills and he suggested, and I agreed, that I should get my Vitamin D levels also checked to see if I’m having the same issues. This was also, incidentally, brought up with TheBassist shortly before TSTBEH suggested the testing. As both men present as physical depressives, I surmise they may be on to something.
Bearing in mind I’ve cut off all contact with TheBassist (which coupled with #teamharpy business meant I deactivated my primary Facebook account and started a secondary, non-Bassist filled, one using my potential new legal name), TSTBEH pointed out I should cut off all contact with him in addition to TheBassist. I heartedly agreed because what was right for one must be right for the other. TheBassist was aghast that I wanted to do this self-care work alone while TSTBEH is in fact encouraging it, but with trepidation. Both men feel that my being alone could be problematic in that I could get wrapped into some kind of manic cycle, and I see their point. But the fact and truth remains I need to pull a Gabor and fix me before committing to anything or one.
Even with all of this going on, in my head and in my heart, I am over the moon about my apartment and my things (hellllooo teddy). My stuff. My garbage. My shit. My dirty laundry. I’m excited about laying about in my own filth and not having the worry that I am impeding on someone’s time. I’m thrilled that all of what entitles this sojourn will be laid on me and me alone, that any decisions or processes I require can be forged by me and me alone.
So even when I’m crying for TheBassist, or pining for TSTBEH, or in desperate need of a kiss that will never come, I will do all of this in the luxury of my own place.
P.S. Today’s title comes from the now defunct radio show, Cabin Pressure.

This Day In Lisa-Universe: 2014