Can I buy you a fish sandwich?

You know what I despise about finding out for sure I'm mentally off? It was bad enough to spend first half of my life "gifted" and the second half "crazy," but now I'm terrified I might not ever get better. I'm horribly upset 'cause the generic meds aren't working at all ($5 copay vs $100 for brand), and the contrast between feeling almost normal a few weeks ago and this terrible now is awful, insulting, like poking the kid in the Special Helmet with a pointy stick. I see the doc Monday, but in the meantime, I can't make it through a full day at work, hate everything and almost everyone, and am constantly... well.... I know what I think and feel minute-to-minute, but I can't tell what's really me and what's the meds. I am sick of feeling like this when I have people who need me to be at least vaguely normal.

On a funnier, even weirder note, I'm getting hit on a lot lately- like, five propositions this week. It's mad flattering, considering I have 30 more lbs to lose to get back to my fighting weight, but kinda infuriating 'cause I feel so bad and apparently look pretty nice. Men are bizarre.