Still here. AKA: Tooth & Nail ready to break, yet somehow has not.

Cussing is involved in this post. Not a lot, but I warned you.

All right, here's the deal, the unbelievable, crazy situation.
I have not gone into the hospital.
That right there seems like a miracle to me, and I wanted you all to know.
I am not right, I am still frickin' sad, and at times utterly overwhelmed and desperate. I am still on the edge, I admit to even being angry inside. There is so much, but I have hung on tooth and nail, been pushed to the desperate end, but I did not go.
Please know that I am not 'crying wolf' that my situation is dire, and that I could still end up in the hospital. I am hanging on, in fact, for a pdoc appointment tomorrow, and have been pretty much all weekend.



How could this happen? How did I stay out?
1) My husband. He would not let me go. At times I thought it was cruel, and I sure let him know. Now, I think I am thankful. I think I am grateful. Truth: I am afraid I am setting a terrible precedent, in our lives - I am not claiming to speak for others, but for me it has been utterly excruciating and for me to say less, I would be lying and you know I don't do that - for him to see how much pain a person can take and Still not take them to the hospital, but there it is.
2) Damn it, I hate to admit it, but the medications. The pdoc upped a certain something a few weeks ago, and added a little bit of nothing as well (at an emergency appointment that I somehow got). It did not work right away. To top it off, I did not believe it would help, and I lashed out and left a nasty message on that man's machine, I know for one thing I flat out called him a quack (!), and you would have to be a robot to not hear the pain, the utter despair in my voice, I am sure. But after two days of the emergency uppage seemed to help, I was still hanging on.

I told you that I made calls last week and the pdoc did not answer. He finally called me Friday, after hours, so there was no hope of an appointment (only somehow getting through the weekend if I could make it). Bastard. Anyhoo, I grilled him on just what he would do, as compared to a hospital, could he DO something for me, (and always there is the fear that I will never be right again, and damn it, DAMN IT, I was doing so well) basically what would he do for me that could help me avoid the hospital. (But is that such a good idea? How long can a person go without the hospital, when it's so obvious that I had been doing well before all this??? Maybe it's been a mistake to not go, I DON'T KNOW.)

He put out there that he would Probably raise such and such more and add on (to me) scary stuff that I had never heard of and certainly never been on, and something I Had been on and utterly refuse to ever take again.

So I did what any sane bipolar would do. (Understand that he refused to see me until Tuesday, as though life ENDS AFTERHOURS!). I upped the something something myself.

I do not recommend this to others, but I am positive for me I did the right thing. And I will defend it, if he has the unmitigated nerve to get upset about it.

I am still not right. I am scared that Me, the Tart, will never come back. But goddamn it, I can write. I may have told you too much. I may have TMI'd you, and you don't need to hear it. But I have bared my soul to the internet (as much as I dare LOL) and there you have it.

I am Here. I have not let go. For those of you who know what it's like to be here, I am in awe of you. I cheer you. God bless you, and I mean it. Somehow, we or I am going to make it through this. Do think Vivienne Leigh in 'Gone With the Wind' when I say:
As God as my witness, I won't give up. I try to hold on Viv, 'Tomorrow is another day' at the same time, this moment is here, and so am I.

As a parting thought, Supreme Loves for all of you that left me a message on my last post. Every one of them meant something to me, I am so blessed to hear from each of you. Thank you.:)