Still recovering and still not feeling all that great. I still have some muscle weakness, chest pain, and anxiety, of course.

Exchanged messages with Kim on Facebook yesterday and she said she’s been taking black cohosh supplements that have helped with her hot flashes and she also found it to help her mentally as well. I’m a little more willing to experiment with something OTC as opposed to harsh chemical prescriptions even though I still have a feeling I’m not meant to find what works for me. Nonetheless, I figured it couldn’t hurt to try some in the form of tea. It’s loose tea, so since I don’t have a diffuser, I got one of those mesh ball tea strainers you put loose tea in and dunk into your mug as you would a regular tea bag.

When she mentioned black cohosh, she said she did a lot of research on it and I also remembered that along with evening primrose, Stacey recommended these things in 2016. I just never bothered to try them, figuring they wouldn’t do me any good. Yet I also ordered some evening primrose teabags but they won’t be here for a while.

I’m just sick of feeling like shit day after day! I’ve been sitting here asking myself what the fuck I ever did to deserve so much suffering for so long but I’m clueless. No, I’m not a perfect person but funny how there are people out there who are pure evil that never suffered nearly to the degree I have.

Wacky hormones or not, I know being here doesn’t help. This place is nothing but planes, helicopters, traffic, and a roaring freeway that really grates on my nerves. On top of not knowing what type of projects are going to break out around me to either disturb my sleep or drive me crazy.

There’s only so much more time I can live with this. If things don’t improve after moving to Florida, I’m definitely going to kill myself. I can’t keep suffering like this. This is just way too extreme and way too often. I don’t understand why the fuck I would get so much worse all of a sudden but I can only take so much more of this shit. He still feels confident that once I’m postmenopausal and out of here and settled, I’ll be better. I asked him how he can be sure my brain didn’t “break” in some way, making this permanent, and he swears brains don’t just do that as far as suddenly up and developing some intense kind of anxiety disorder, and also feels confident because of things that have been present during the time I’ve been anxious. I wish to hell I could believe him but I have no reason not to think I’m totally hopeless. I fear I’m going to be anxious every single day if not close enough to it until I put an end to it, and death will be the only way out.

The thyroid med is making less sense even though it’s still quite a coincidence then I get anxious a week after a brand change. So yeah, it’s got to come down to hormones, the anticipation of the move, and/or me suddenly developing a permanent disorder that can’t be undone. I just hope he’s right in saying that the anxiety will one day manifest itself differently as it has in the past. Well, the type of anxiety I experienced due to something bad going on like when we were facing homelessness was definitely easier on me, as rough as it still was, than this shit has been. The worst anything would do to me in the past was disrupt my sleep and maybe give me the runs.

Years ago I would find staying up all night exciting and fun. We’re both up now and I would feel like we were on some exciting, secret mission while the rest of the world slept. Instead, I just feel anxious, frustrated, hopeless, and impatient as hell.

The fucking garbage and recycle trucks woke me up twice but I was so tired that I did manage to fall back asleep fairly quickly. I had a shitty dream involving Aly visiting me.

After I fell asleep in the dream, she decided it would be a great idea to wake me up by playfully tackling me. She startled me awake which pissed the shit out of me but I couldn’t get up off the bed as she playfully hit me because my arm was pinned under my body and I just couldn’t get leverage. It was causing excruciating pain in my shoulder and I kept telling her to back off and that my shoulder was hurting really bad!

When I was finally able to get up, I told her to pack her shit and get the fuck out.

Because I was so exhausted, I fell back asleep. When I woke up and she was gone, I sat down by my computer and found that none of the desktop icons, which mostly had my journals and stories, would work any more than anything did when I clicked things on my browser toolbar. Instead, all I got was a series of random numbers, and I knew immediately that she had hacked and sabotaged my computer. The realization that she had all my passwords and that I had no way to access the list of them since each site was different with long complex passwords I could never remember, made me feel helpless and infuriated, not that I can imagine her ever doing such a thing in real life!