Life’s a game, but it’s not fair. — Jay-Z, Rihanna, and Kanye West, Run This Town (via Quote Book)

You know how I mention “being back at square one” a lot? I was discussing that with my therapist and she thinks I need to actually define what that means. So for my next appointment, I’m supposed to describe my ideal day — just a normal, run-of-the-mill day that doesn’t include “big” things like playing hockey or going back to martial arts. I think this is because during this last run of “wellness,” I wondered if I was hypomanic or at baseline. It’s been so long since I’ve been at baseline that I don’t even know what it feels like anymore, which is the reason behind the assignment. I’m not supposed to assign a square to my day; just describe what that day would be like.

I’m committed to getting better, but still feel that I’m taking things a “square” at a time in the game of life, whatever those squares may be. However, it seems that most days I pick up “lose a turn” cards, and on very few days are the dice rolls decent. Most of the time, I feel that I roll a lot of “ones.” I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me — I’m just sick and tired of being sick and tired and need to vent.

I mean, it’s been TWO YEARS that I’ve been dealing with bipolar depression. I’ve been through nearly every med in the book, have had ECT at least 30 times because meds didn’t work — what else is there? A frickin’ lobotomy??? Clearly I’m feeling pessimistic probably because of the depression, but Christ, already. I guess life isn’t fair, is it?

One wild thing, anyway. I just took this picture myself because I’m too impatient to wait for Brian to get home to take it for me, which is why it’s so blurry. That, and probably because I had it done in 1992, LONG before the movie existed, so no trendiness here.

“Where The Wild Things Are” is my favorite book of all time and I’m afraid to see the movie because I don’t want it to ruin the book for me. In my experience, books are better than their film adaptations no matter how excellent the adaptation, and this is a classic. Even if people think the movie’s great, I still don’t know if I could bring myself to see it.

I was dreading this for months. Yesterday was the day, and I was a mess. I take 1 mg. Klonopin every night and can take more as needed, which is rare. Yesterday, I took one with my morning meds. By 11am I was still squirrely and just crawling out of my skin, so I took another. My appointment was at 1pm.

As Brian and I left our apartment, I was nauseous — for me, a sign of anxiety. When we parked in front of the office building, again, I was nauseous and hoped I wouldn’t actually throw up. I masked my anxiety and terror with anger by not acknowledging the receptionist and having Brian fill out my forms except for my signatures.

By the time I was sitting in the chair, the extra Klonopin kicked in and I was feeling vewwwwy sweeeepy. The assistant explained the procedure; she was right — it was much less worse than getting a crown, of which I’ve gotten 2 in the last couple of months. The endodontist only drills in the beginning: a hole through which she used some other tool to clean out the nerves. And that was it! It didn’t hurt AT ALL.

I think if they changed the name of the procedure to something other than the scary-sounding “root canal,” people wouldn’t be so scared. I mean, going to the dentist, cool as my dentist is, is bad enough, right? Well, it’s one less thing over with. Now all I have to do is see my dentist so she can replace the temporary filling the endodontist used with a permanent one. And hopefully, that’ll be it! I’m never avoiding a dentist for 15 years. Ever. Again.

In the most recent episode of CSI: Cat Scene Investigation, Brian caught Hee Seop red-handed. Or red-pawed, whatever. According to an eyewitness, that noodle was not on the counter when Brian left the room.