Just one hour ago I was thinking, okay, I’m done. Like totally, totally done. I’m quitting my meds at least for a while and I don’t mean just for a week or so.

But the anxiety I had both yesterday and today was pretty short-lived as shitty as it was so now I’m back to being unsure of what to do. I keep wanting to be able to tolerate the meds (if that’s at least part of the problem), so I stubbornly keep trying. The only weird thing is that it didn’t last nearly as long as it usually does. I felt better when he got up and I had some wine. He thinks part of why I was anxious was because it’s Monday morning but what about yesterday? Was it the candy I had? I know sugar isn’t good for me and that’s why I don’t have it very often. But still… I’m sick of this shit and the only way I can know for sure if the medication is involved at all is to not take it. Not even a 40-minute walk helped and exercise is said to be a great relief for anxiety with the way it releases endorphins. But I actually started feeling worse afterward.

At first I was telling Tom that I was going to ask Dr. A for Lorazepam and just kill myself because I’m tired of being tortured on and off and bounced around like a fucking yo-yo from calm to anxious. He said, why don’t you just quit, if that’s what you want (even though he doesn’t think it’s the meds or that I need to quit) and let the disease kill you if it’s going to instead of killing yourself now?

So I thought about it and he’s got a point. Why not just take whatever time I have left but without the medication and therefore hopefully without the anxiety? By the time this disease could kill me, if it’s going to, I would be close to the end of my life anyway. So I totally see his point there.

My only concern is weight gain and goiters but again, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Either way, something’s going to kill me sooner or later, so since I’m not 20 years old with my whole life ahead of me, does it really matter when it kills me? There’s always both good and bad to not existing in this world no matter what age our number’s up.

I was going to just lay all my cards on the table with Dr. A but as he also said, she’s going to push me to keep taking the meds, so why get into an unnecessary confrontation if I decide to quit (and I don’t know for sure that I will)? Well, I don’t want her pushing me on anything. That’s why I really watch my cholesterol intake and make sure I take my ACV shots before labs; because I don’t want any shit from her. It’s also why I lose whatever weight I can before I see her, even if that can only be a few pounds; so I don’t risk her getting on my case about what I can’t change.

So, since I don’t need her lecturing me and no one’s helped me with the anxiety yet or the strange pressure in my head, why not just do what I’m going to do? I still don’t know what that should be but I realize I need to change my way of thinking. Yes, there is some good to living, but there’s a lot of bad, too. So since I can’t know if the afterlife is better, worse, or if there’s nothing at all, all I can do is focus on what I know of this life and that’s that rather than killing myself, since I’m not suffering every minute of every day and night, I should just do what makes me feel better. If that’s not taking my medication, so be it. I have to look at my case as one of those possibly untreatable cases. It’s like with people who get injuries that prevent them from walking. Some of them can be treated and some of them can’t. Well, maybe I’m just not meant to treat my thyroid without torturing myself in ways that are worse than the hypo symptoms. So rather than worry about what problems I may acquire eventually, I should just enjoy every day that I feel good until something happens. Meanwhile, whatever is causing the head pressure hasn’t killed me yet and neither has my dead thyroid. As long as I feel good, it shouldn’t matter what a doctor says. It’s just that I can’t hide it forever if I do quit. Sooner or later I’m going to have to either explain why my numbers are bad or just not go to the lab in the first place.

I just want to do what’s going to make me feel better! But is that quitting my meds or not???

Strangely enough, my LS has been much better overall. Since cutting out potatoes and other foods that aggravate it, it does seem to help unlike when I try to cut out foods that fuel anxiety. It’s too bad I can’t have potatoes because they don’t have any sodium or cholesterol.

My TMJ has been up and down. It was fine all day yesterday until the very end of my day as I was getting into bed. It acted up to the point where I had to get up and take something for it.

The night before last was pretty quiet as far as planes go, but there were some last night and I know they’re going to start up any second now so I have the air cleaner on. Whoever the fucker is that visits really late on a motorcycle came in last night at 11:30 and left a half-hour later.

The car is leaking worse than before. Water pumps harder through the new hose and it puts pressure on old cracks in the radiator so water is leaking quite a bit. Therefore, we may be getting our new vehicle really soon. He’s really keen on the idea of getting an electric car because it makes more sense in so many ways. Even if we pay a little more for it, we save quite a bit in the end. It would save us about a grand a year since it wouldn’t need gas. It also wouldn’t need oil or have to go through emissions.

He’s been looking at a 2012 Nissan Leaf for $5,600. It’s not luxurious which he was interested in at first since having a luxury car does spoil you, but this would be so much smarter. As I told him, he’s the one that drives it so as long as it’s not as loud as so many vehicles are these days, I don’t care what it is. But that’s the thing with electrics… They’re pretty quiet. With the way they’re so much smarter economically and better for the environment, I don’t understand why everything isn’t electric these days. I guess disturbing the peace is that much more important to most people.

He was reading up on various solutions to my sleep issues and came across these cool-looking pod hotels that are popular in China. The smallest and cheapest one was about 6 ft by 4 ft and cost $1000. It has a twin bed in it, a little window, a TV screen, its own heating and cooling, and is said to be soundproof. It’s kind of sad that the world has come to what it’s come to and that some of us now need this sort of thing but as I told him, a grand is a bit much to spend on something that might not be soundproof enough. So we’re going to try putting up posts around the bed and draping the soundproofing material we still have over the bed to see if that makes a difference at all. We figure that if it does, then these things should definitely be pretty soundproof. It would look ridiculous since it would have to sit in the middle of the living room since the bedroom doorway would be too narrow to get it through but I wouldn’t care if it worked. The thing is you kind of have to have a continuous piece in order to really be soundproof.

Not sure the bed would be comfortable. They don’t sleep on regular beds in China but on mats instead, so I would have to add a topper. I’m probably much heavier than your average Chinese person too, so while I want some firmness to give me good support, I also need a little cushion because I’m so heavy.

As I told Tom, if today’s world can make Phoenix seem comatose, Will this place seem comatose in 20 years?

And what about my health? It’s changed so much in less than a decade that thinking of how it might be in another decade or two is quite scary.

Anyway, we went to Walmart when it opened at 5:30 yesterday morning where he got some stuff for the car and we got a few groceries.

A couple of hours later we went to Rite Aid where I got a facial hair trimmer that works great. The way it’s advertised is a little deceptive because it says “remove hair painlessly.” Well, it’s painless because it doesn’t remove the hair. It just trims it. But it’s much better than the other little mini trimmer I’ve had because this thing shaves closer to the skin so I don’t have ladystache stubble.

I also got a couple of mini bottles of Moscato, one pink, one white. I like the Rosé wine the best and whatever that dark purple stuff was that I tried a couple of weeks ago.

Got some incense as well that is surprisingly fresh.

I swear I gave our fish circadian rhythm disorder, LOL. He seems to be copying my schedule along with the rats.

I’m going to try the disposable liners on the pigs and see how they do with it because I realize that it would be even easier on us for about the same cost if I could use those and then line their playpen with the fleece liners. A future dog could also use the fleece liners. It’s easy enough to shake the fleece liners of turds but not of hay. So that’s why I want to see how they do with disposables.

Thinking more and more of bringing my hair to my shoulders where that too, would make life easier. The shit sheds all over, clogs drains and gets stuck in the Roomba’s brushes. It’s just such a pain in the ass overall. My hair is so fried from dyeing it and takes forever to dry. It’s a bitch to brush and I miss having just a little stub of a ponytail when I’m working out or sleeping. Instead, I have to put it up in a bun that can get heavy after a while or braid it just to keep it out of the way. I don’t know when I’ll get it done. I’ll just play it by ear. Some weekend when I happen to be up and it’s convenient, I’ll hit the salon. Funny because so many women would kill to have this hair. Well, they can have it! Every long thick golden-brown curl.

Last night I dreamed I was living in an adult community but it looked different. The houses were larger and were built on-site. I was walking down the street where about half a dozen residents were standing around. One of the guys was new. He had a large dog that was unleashed and I said, “You know there’s a leash law here, don’t you?”

Then a woman got upset with me for pointing that out and said something to the effect of never talking to me again.

In another dream, we lived in an apartment building. The apartments had interior windows facing the corridors as well as facing outside. As I was walking down the hall to our place, I could see the Twenties having dinner with some visitors at their kitchen table.

Our place mostly consisted of one giant room with a bedroom and bathroom off of it. I looked around and thought I might rearrange it. I considered moving the dining table over by the exterior window but then decided not to because there was already a different table by that window. Then Tom said something about moving the refrigerator.