As soon as I look at a blank page, my mind goes blank. I had something to write and now I don't.
I'm vexed today that the house smells like the hospital. Once Doc clears out, I will light incense.
I got a vape pen, but I can't smoke it right. Doc has tried to explain, but I don't get it. I need it to quit smoking. I'll have to work on it more. Explains why I could never get B's dab pen to work for me. I feel broken.
I get my meds tomorrow. I'm doing well, so far, but I know the clock on that is running down. I started the day with the last klonopin. I have half a Xanax left, and a tylenol with codeine. That's for sleeping. I'll have all of my meds tomorrow.
Chewbacca threw up in my bed last night, under the covers. I put my foot in it around 6am. Got up to move to the couch and ended up cleaning the puke, putting a towel down and laying on top of my covers and falling asleep until my alarm went off.
Doc just messaged, he got all of my meds for 90 days for under $100. Relief. All of my meds have come out with generics in the past couple of years, cutting the cost tremendously. The Cymbalta itself used to cost $300. Now it's a tenth of the price.
I just want to take them before my mind discovers what my body is missing and starts in on me.
I am at war with my brain. I'm tired of it feeding me non-stop memories. I really want to let go of the past, but this mass of grey tissue won't let me. I want to look forward to the future, maybe pay attention to the now.
I took Chewbacca, all decked out in his camera and Support K9 vest, to the doctor appointment. He's getting used to buses. Doc says I do better out with Chewy than not. I pay more attention to my surroundings in caring for him. We look out for each other. And it helps us bond.
I let people pet him, but not pick him up. Yesterday an old man was next to me on the bus and Chewy laid down on his foot after he petted him. Chewy is worn out. We did walking, busing, and Uber. I'm so out of shape that walks need to be short.
That's it. Something in the present.