So much for thinking that only the nights bring out the depression in me because I’m pretty down right now. Yesterday I felt good but today I’ve got a lot of fatigue and my legs are sore as hell from the HIIT routine I did. I started to feel traces of anxiety and I even got a little teary-eyed because the upcoming Liothyronine experiment has me stressed out.

I’m just afraid of my worst fears being realized in the end where I’m stuck with this for life and we can never figure out what it is or how to fix it. That’s my worst fear right now. In some ways, this fear is greater than death itself, which has always been one of my greatest fears. I’m worried that because I floated up to where I was just bubbling underneath the surface of anxiety today it could mean I’m in for an anxious day tomorrow. Especially if the problem is the medication itself because now I’m taking it more often even if it’s a lower dose.

Sometimes I wonder if I should take the time to draft an “it’s a bust” message to Dr. O in hopes of jinxing things into working out in the end and not needing it, thus having it end up being a waste of time. But somehow I doubt that that will make a difference. If the problem is the medication itself, it’s not going away any time soon. If something up there is cursing me, it may never go away.

If this shit does go away I would need a good six months, preferably a year, before I could finally let out a long sigh of relief and declare victory over this demon. A few months isn’t enough when life has had a way of yanking the carpet out from under my feet when things run smoothly for a few weeks/months.

My hair and skin are dry, appetite is down, but that’s the least of my concerns right now. Keeping a daily log on Google Docs for my doc.

Last night’s dreams were long and disturbing. Well, one of them was.

In one dream I had lunch with Kathleen and the dentist was with us. Probably just a spam dream.

In another dream, I pulled out a clump of hair. Could be a sign that the Liothyronine is going to cause hair loss like the Levothyroxine initially did.

The kind of long, detailed dream like the last one I had is the kind that makes me wonder if it could have been a glimpse into another dimension. It was actually a series of continuing dreams. The first one started with us back in Arizona and living in a rural area. The house didn’t look anything like the house we had in Maricopa, though.

We were hanging outside when a woman drove up in a silver medium-size car and informed me that I was on unsupervised probation for the same shit I was supposedly vindicated for nearly 19 years ago. So we talked to this middle-aged lady with blonde shoulder-length hair. I guess I emailed something to the black bitch or was thinking about something I had emailed her a while back. I’m not sure which. But I guess I did something because, on another day in another dream, the same woman returned, also while we were outside. She informed me that they “found a partial email” I sent and therefore I would have to report.

I remained silent until she was getting back inside her car, turned to Tom and said, “There’s no fucking way they could have found anything.”

But I knew deep down I was guilty of something and wondered if I should keep that to myself or not. I also wondered what I should do if the police drove up if I failed to report, which I assumed would eventually happen, or if I should just go to the damn PO that I assumed would still be Scott.

Initially, I decided to remain stubborn, determined not to let history repeat itself. I was not going to be told what to do, where to do it, and when to do it.

Then one evening, just as the sun had almost completely set, I was home alone, nervous and paranoid as hell. I realized that it would be very hard to hide with all the windows we had and since we had no garage, we couldn’t hide Tom’s car when he was home. There was no way we could constantly hide in the dark at night without making a sound either.

Things aren’t what they were nearly 20 years ago, I thought to myself. You’re going to have to abandon your online life completely if you want to go underground.

Then I heard a vehicle approaching and saw headlights shining, though I couldn’t see who it was.

At this point, I woke up, fell back asleep and the dream continued yet again where Tom and I were out somewhere and I was expressing my concerns. He didn’t seem worried, though.

Next thing I know we’re at the probation office. I guess we decided to just deal with it after all. I sat in a waiting area and observed some woman and a guy behind the counter. I thought wow, if that’s Scott, he lost some weight and grew a little hair on his head. We figured the reason he always wore a cap in real life was that he was going bald.

Then we were finally led into a room and I realized the guy wasn’t Scott because he was too tall and his voice was different.

We all took seats, them on what looked like a twin bed, me on a chair, and briefly joked about something. Suddenly, I had a rat on my lap but no one seemed to notice or mind. I hoped it wouldn’t get too fidgety or take a dump during the meeting.

Then the guy went on to read some journal excerpts I’d written about my supposed polycythemia vera that I sent the black bitch and thought to myself, so the first email address I guessed from memory really did go through and really was the correct one.

I don’t know if I admitted sending the email or denied it because the dream ended at that point and didn’t continue on in another dream.