By Thursday, I was definately falling apart, and I knew it. So I went to my therapist, kept it together (mostly) until the visitor left, and then cried. I actually sort of wanted to go back to the hospital. And my therapist was concerned enough that she didn't let me drive home; a friend drove me home to pick up some stuff and then I stayed at another friend's house. Because I couldn't kill myself there.
It helped so much to be there where I had few worries (don't worry; I still got good milage out of some of the little worries), a place where I felt safe from myself. Friday, I saw Mr. Psychiatrist, and the "in the hospital or out of the hospital for the med. change" conversation came up. Once again, staying with friends saved me from the ER. Now I'm on yet another med, plus doubling one I was already on (excuse me when I almost fall asleep). Not off of any. But whether the break or the med change or both are responsible, now I am closer to feeling stable. It's like last week I was standing at the edge of a cliff and this week I'm merely sleeping near the edge of a cliff. Yay for medications that make me feel slower.
Today, I saw Mr. Psychiatrist again. He doubled the dose of the new medication. And seemed pleased that I had reached a point of stability (I wouldn't be so sure; I'd just say "closer to stability"). Then I went back to work. Got a headache, etc. To some extent, work helps me live in the present and lets me enjoy little kids. But then when I have to stay "late," I start loosing it. It was hard last fall when I left the hospital. It is hard now leaving my safe friend's house. My house is scarier (translation, I tend to have more disturbing thoughts at my own house). I guess to sum it up, what I mean is that I don't want Mr. Psychiatrist to give up, because I can stand this level of feeling bad for a little bit, but I may have trouble if it lasts too long. I'm not superwoman, okay? I get tired. Really exhaustedly tired. Cryingly depressed. Physically tired. (Got both ears infected by this weekend!)
But I move on one step at a time. That's all I could ever do and all I can do now.