I have not smoked again, though the urge struck me in passing last night. It seems the anger is resurfacing. I am hopeful that this is simply a symptom of being overworked, which is an issue that will self-resolve in a little more than a week [it did not]. Perhaps this level of anger amidst this level of stress is actually a positive sign.
I have one more dose of the wellbutrin left and I am running into some issues having it refilled. If I do run out, I must be very cautious. My ability to rationalize my drinking is uncanny and running out of the only thing that has seemed to help because of the ineptitude of my psychiatrist, the unfairness of it all, would be perfect. Someone could reason away a lapse with skills less honed than my own.
It is worth noting that I still haven’t touched the home health paperwork that sent me into an infantile rage a few nights ago.
Moving forward, I wish to focus on spending more time outside. I am greatly looking forward to spending time with Josh and Jonathan this evening …. Perhaps they would like to play outside with me one day. My verbiage is as deliberately humorous as it is literal. I have been reading about playing as a means to squelch states of phenomenological horror and existential dread. Play more, loath less.
