Awkward . . .

I'm not sure how I want to start this post. The good stuff? The funny stuff? The not so funny stuff? Ahhh well, here we go.

So I'm off the Cymbalta, right? And I went through withdrawals, right? And now I'm apparently having a rebound rapid-cycling mixed episode. Thank you Lord Jesus for making my life hell.

That was sarcasm. Thought I'd make that clear.

My mood is everywhere, though it tends to gravitate towards outright hypomania or extreme, ridiculous irritability (with some depressive symptoms thrown in for good measure). Or it's a combo of all that at once. Or I cycle through all of those many times a day. Along with racing thoughts, pressured, rapid speech, inappropriate language/outbursts, impulsiveness, and extreme sexiness.

That last one isn't actually a symptom. It's wishful thinking.

So I do fun things like tell a patient's husband to stick a wheelchair up his ass or act like a complete bitch-beast around my hubby. Or I dye my hair on a whim without even paying attention to what color I bought (I'm chocolate brown now, btw). Or, on the same shopping trip I  come upon some turkey lunch meat and say, out loud, "motherfucking turkey! I need some motherfucking turkey, fuck yeah!" Or I'm so irritable at work that I say "fuck" a lot (not around patients, thank God for small favors), and feel like throwing the computers through the walls.

And then I don't sleep. Well, that's not true. I've been getting around 3 hours a night - though not all at one time. That doesn't help. Although last night I managed to get 7 and I feel worse that when I get 3.

And THEEEEEEEN, I sing the "Log" song from Ren and Stimpy to my therapist. Totally did that today. Also? If you don't know what the "log" song is, look it up. It's stupid and awesome at the same time. And I sang it to my therapist!! To be fair though, he did ask me if I ever watched Ren and Stimpy. So I sang the song. And we laughed. And the session went downhill from there.

In a good way. Kinda. The rest of the hour (okay, 50 minutes), was spent laughing. Literally just laughing. At my idiocy. At patients. At terms like "meat curtains" to describe a vagina (I offered up that little gem - a story for another time). It. Was. Fun.

But . . .a bit strange. See, when our time was about up, M stated that it was about the bewitching hour (what he says every time our time is up), and then said "thank God for that". I piped up "well that was rude" (still laughing about previous things) followed by "actually, that was fucked up." It was a very . . .I don't know, disconcerting moment. A bit off, or strange, or different. He said, "I appreciate your honesty." But that's not the only thing. I got the feeling like he had to rein both myself and him back in. That we were acting and talking more like friends, rather that therapist and client, and he recognized this and had to put an end to it - quick.

Which I get. It's not a therapeutic relationship if you don't have boundaries and guidelines. And today, there were no boundaries or guidelines. It honestly was two friends chatting and laughing and shooting the shit.

So he reined it in at the end and tried setting those boundaries again. Which in that few seconds was actually hurtful to me. Necessary, but in a small way hurtful. Which is dumb. Because he is my therapist and we need those boundaries to have that therapeutic relationship.

I'm going to ask him about it next week though. I'm curious as to his take on it, and if what I sensed (and wrote above), is true.

In the meantime I get to continue to deal with my stupid mixed episode. Hooray!