I'll have to change my appointment with the doc, cause it seems I'm undead.

WEDNESDAY

---

I got jabbed in the arms and hands TWELVE TIMES trying to get blood out of my body, but it just wasn't gonna happen. Aftre thirty minutes the nurse looked at me and said "Would you mind coming back when you have some blood?"

Dropped the truck off for it's final repairs, and walked home...and drew like crazy.

THURSDAY

---

I'm no spring chicken. I keep thinking I'm 18, not 28. I keep thinking I'm 175, not 275. I keep windering why the hell I forget it's July. My truck was ready WAY earlier than I expected it to be, so instead of having Dean's car to at least GET to the truck, I had another two mile walk waiting for me.

But wait!

You have a bike! It's only two miles, you can do it!

Now, a year ago around this time, you can read about another Bike Adventure Jenn had, where she nearly died of heatstroke a few scant miles from her friend's house. Determined not to let that happen again, I chilled a bottle of water.

Right, like that was gonna help.

I left the house, only to find the bike was VERY flat, and made the first half mile or so feel like I was driving through mush. After a quick fill up, the rest of the trip was exhausting, but I made it. Shelled out another $800 to get my truck from the shop and went home, took two showers (which didn't seem to "take") a pint of chocolate icecream, a freezing house and near nakedness just to cool off form thirty minutes on a bike in the sun.

I need to get back into shape.

FRIDAY

---

THEY KEEP COMING AND COMING! My god, there wasn't a break from the calls! Not a one. And not only that, they were all grumpy people who had sat in the call queue for an hour and a half, and were IN THE WRONG QUEUE. THEY JUST KEPT SCREAMING AND COMPLAINING AND SIGHING AND...AND....

::collapses::

I'll have to change my appointment with the doc, cause it seems I'm undead.

WEDNESDAY

---

I got jabbed in the arms and hands TWELVE TIMES trying to get blood out of my body, but it just wasn't gonna happen. Aftre thirty minutes the nurse looked at me and said "Would you mind coming back when you have some blood?"

Dropped the truck off for it's final repairs, and walked home...and drew like crazy.

THURSDAY

---

I'm no spring chicken. I keep thinking I'm 18, not 28. I keep thinking I'm 175, not 275. I keep windering why the hell I forget it's July. My truck was ready WAY earlier than I expected it to be, so instead of having Dean's car to at least GET to the truck, I had another two mile walk waiting for me.

But wait!

You have a bike! It's only two miles, you can do it!

Now, a year ago around this time, you can read about another Bike Adventure Jenn had, where she nearly died of heatstroke a few scant miles from her friend's house. Determined not to let that happen again, I chilled a bottle of water.

Right, like that was gonna help.

I left the house, only to find the bike was VERY flat, and made the first half mile or so feel like I was driving through mush. After a quick fill up, the rest of the trip was exhausting, but I made it. Shelled out another $800 to get my truck from the shop and went home, took two showers (which didn't seem to "take") a pint of chocolate icecream, a freezing house and near nakedness just to cool off form thirty minutes on a bike in the sun.

I need to get back into shape.

FRIDAY

---

THEY KEEP COMING AND COMING! My god, there wasn't a break from the calls! Not a one. And not only that, they were all grumpy people who had sat in the call queue for an hour and a half, and were IN THE WRONG QUEUE. THEY JUST KEPT SCREAMING AND COMPLAINING AND SIGHING AND...AND....

::collapses::

(no subject)

I'm very dissapointed in myself. For the first time in over two years, I've "Gone Mad."

Ever since I was a little kid, I used to get the uncontrollable "tantrums" where I would just go completely out of control. Almost like a blackout, I wouldn't realize what I was doing until I was done.

It used to be, that as a kid, I'd punch holes in walls, scream and babble profanities, and I wouldn't stop until I had literally broken something in my hands. I wouldn't feel "satiated" until somehting was broken.

I saw a therapist over that for a few years, she told me to try punching pillows, and that wouldn't stop me. I found that smashing ice, or breaking icicles really helped me, though.

As I got older, the tantrums got fewer and fewer, but would ocasionally flare up whenever I was under some extreme stress. When I started hormones the first time, they went away completely. When I got off the hormones, the tantrums didn't come back. The last tantrum I can remember was at my mothers house after I was laid off and my world collapsed. Even the hormones in my system couldn't hold it back.

And then today, while playing a video game where the controller was arguing with me, the next thing I knew was I had thrown it across the room and was smashing my hands into the keyboard. It didn't last long at all (a few seconds at the longest) and I managed to catch myself...but my anger level was just throgh the roof.

Sad thing was, Dean was there...after years of telling him I didn't do this anymore, I did it in front of him, and I feel like shit. Everything's working, and only one thing is broken (which wasn't a result of my madness), but I feel like shit over it. I feel bad that for the first time in almost two years, I had another spell, and that it happened while he was here.

My anger level was still through the roof when he left, though. I did my best to hide it from him, but as soon as he left, I went to a box of video tapes and punched thehell out of it until my arms were tired. That seems the only way to really "satisfy" my anger...punch and kick something until I'mtoo tired to do so. Thankfully 40 videotapes packed in a box not only takes a LOT of punches, the tapes don't break.

We're not sure where these episodes come from. My psychiatrist said it could be anything from Grave's Disease (she had blood tests ordered to check my thyroid) to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (I use to get these flashbacks of really cruel nastiness from my schooldays that I would see while I was angry). I know that as I got older, the tantrums got worse, but didn't happen as often. These tantrums also make me voraciously hungry....

I know the worst tantrum I had was 1989 or so, where I went on a rampage for thirty minutes, breaking every shelf in the house, throwing things at my sister and babbling obscenities after I couldn't open a plastic package of Lean Cuisine spaghetti sauce. I have no recollection of what I did - I just remember being exhausted and sitting in the middle of a completely demolished kitchen, bleeding from my arms where I had scratched them punching shelving. Another major embarrassment was having one, not only infront of my best friend, but her friends AT her friend's house. Thankfully, I didn't break anything, but it's an embarassment I've fretted over for over ten years.

(Did my parents take me to a doctor afterwards? No, that would be too embarassing for the family....)

So today, I went mad, and the only thing I can think of what was causing it is this 10 hours of work shit. At the end of my work shift, I'm not just cranky, but angry and very tired. Plus, I go home with the thought of "Don't start anything - you need to go right to sleep."

Before you say it's the video game, I've played videogames a lot before, with this crappy controller, and not gone nuts, (Although games have triggered these tantrums before). I notice that I go nuts when when I begin to think "I want to fucking enjoy (whatever I'm doing) goddammit, because it's the only time I have to fucking enjoy (whatever it is)." The same reasoning I tend to be very choosy what I do on my weekend: I don't want to take the chance of doing something I won't enjoy because this is the only time I have to enjoy myself.

I see Dr. Chase on Tuesday...maybe I should ask him to get me a few days off of work before I burn out completely.

This is why I don't drink or do any drugs: I'm too afraid of what I'd do uncontrolled.

(no subject)

I'm very dissapointed in myself. For the first time in over two years, I've "Gone Mad."

Ever since I was a little kid, I used to get the uncontrollable "tantrums" where I would just go completely out of control. Almost like a blackout, I wouldn't realize what I was doing until I was done.

It used to be, that as a kid, I'd punch holes in walls, scream and babble profanities, and I wouldn't stop until I had literally broken something in my hands. I wouldn't feel "satiated" until somehting was broken.

I saw a therapist over that for a few years, she told me to try punching pillows, and that wouldn't stop me. I found that smashing ice, or breaking icicles really helped me, though.

As I got older, the tantrums got fewer and fewer, but would ocasionally flare up whenever I was under some extreme stress. When I started hormones the first time, they went away completely. When I got off the hormones, the tantrums didn't come back. The last tantrum I can remember was at my mothers house after I was laid off and my world collapsed. Even the hormones in my system couldn't hold it back.

And then today, while playing a video game where the controller was arguing with me, the next thing I knew was I had thrown it across the room and was smashing my hands into the keyboard. It didn't last long at all (a few seconds at the longest) and I managed to catch myself...but my anger level was just throgh the roof.

Sad thing was, Dean was there...after years of telling him I didn't do this anymore, I did it in front of him, and I feel like shit. Everything's working, and only one thing is broken (which wasn't a result of my madness), but I feel like shit over it. I feel bad that for the first time in almost two years, I had another spell, and that it happened while he was here.

My anger level was still through the roof when he left, though. I did my best to hide it from him, but as soon as he left, I went to a box of video tapes and punched thehell out of it until my arms were tired. That seems the only way to really "satisfy" my anger...punch and kick something until I'mtoo tired to do so. Thankfully 40 videotapes packed in a box not only takes a LOT of punches, the tapes don't break.

We're not sure where these episodes come from. My psychiatrist said it could be anything from Grave's Disease (she had blood tests ordered to check my thyroid) to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (I use to get these flashbacks of really cruel nastiness from my schooldays that I would see while I was angry). I know that as I got older, the tantrums got worse, but didn't happen as often. These tantrums also make me voraciously hungry....

I know the worst tantrum I had was 1989 or so, where I went on a rampage for thirty minutes, breaking every shelf in the house, throwing things at my sister and babbling obscenities after I couldn't open a plastic package of Lean Cuisine spaghetti sauce. I have no recollection of what I did - I just remember being exhausted and sitting in the middle of a completely demolished kitchen, bleeding from my arms where I had scratched them punching shelving. Another major embarrassment was having one, not only infront of my best friend, but her friends AT her friend's house. Thankfully, I didn't break anything, but it's an embarassment I've fretted over for over ten years.

(Did my parents take me to a doctor afterwards? No, that would be too embarassing for the family....)

So today, I went mad, and the only thing I can think of what was causing it is this 10 hours of work shit. At the end of my work shift, I'm not just cranky, but angry and very tired. Plus, I go home with the thought of "Don't start anything - you need to go right to sleep."

Before you say it's the video game, I've played videogames a lot before, with this crappy controller, and not gone nuts, (Although games have triggered these tantrums before). I notice that I go nuts when when I begin to think "I want to fucking enjoy (whatever I'm doing) goddammit, because it's the only time I have to fucking enjoy (whatever it is)." The same reasoning I tend to be very choosy what I do on my weekend: I don't want to take the chance of doing something I won't enjoy because this is the only time I have to enjoy myself.

I see Dr. Chase on Tuesday...maybe I should ask him to get me a few days off of work before I burn out completely.

This is why I don't drink or do any drugs: I'm too afraid of what I'd do uncontrolled.