I am feeling dramatically better. Like, I don’t even know when the last time I felt this good was. I wonder how long my thyroid was low; that might have something to do with the severity of my symptoms. That, and the complete and total upheaval of my life in a matter of a few months. That’ll probably do it.
The exterminator came yesterday, and when I walked into my room, my mattresses were vertical like some sort of Mattresshenge, which makes me confident that he sprayed ALL OF THE THINGS. The couch was disassembled too, just in case, so my earlier panic attacks of this week were soothed somewhat. I woke up Tuesday to discover I’d been bitten on the face about six times, and as a result one of my eyes was swollen shut. I couldn’t see until like, 2:00. Then Wednesday I had a panic attack, because I didn’t sleep out of fear of bugs, so I went in late that day, too. Thursday I was back to feeling like myself because I woke up with no new bites and felt better after Mattresshenge. We’ll see how today goes!
Things are better with my boyfriend. We’re going on weekly dates and communicating more. I was talking about the crisis plans we develop with client at work, and joked about writing one for myself, and he practically begged me to do it. I’ll print out a blank one in the Joe Q. Client chart (I’m not kidding, we have that, for practicing various things) and make one for my boyfriend, sister, and mom. It feels good to be talking again. Even though he can be a doofus, his heart’s in the right place. I mean, the man has helped me move to a third story apartment, and fight bedbugs three times. (Operation: Impending Doom one, two, and three.) He’s now lived through a very serious downswing and didn’t run for his life, even after I gave him an out. He must see something in me.