I talked to HH with Gary’s prodding. She’s one of the store managers (on the same supervisory level as NTP) and is the person who did my review. She’s also my friend, and is on my side. I told her what happened with NTP on Monday. She said that she’s noticed a change in me since, oh, about February. Same time that LM said he noticed. That she wished she’d said something to me then, to ask what was going on with me then. Maybe I wouldn’t have stuck with the damn Abilify for so long after it stopped working and spent so much extra money on it. She also said that she wishes I’d come to her a month ago when I stopped taking it and told her about it. I told her that I didn’t want to be a whiner, that it’s not in my nature to complain about personal stuff like that, or to ask for help or accomodations. She said that she was going to talk to the managers about it. So I have no idea what’s going to happen. NTP said we’d talk in a week about what was going on – I told HH that I didn’t know if the Geodon would even be working by then. That I felt better but knew that it was only the placebo effect. Today I found out that you’re supposed to take the shit with food otherwise you only absorb about half of the dose. Faaabulous. I’ve been taking the morning dose with food, but the nighttime dose has generally been at 10:45 – 11:00 pm or so. Long after I’ve eaten.
I also spoke with my stepmother, SC, today. She’s a kick-ass employment lawyer. She told me that in her opinion, I should talk to the general manager, GG, about the whole fakockta mess. (I don’t remember a lot of the specifics of what SC said, another side effect of the fucking Geodon and Wellbutrin. Oh wait, I already mentioned that. Shite. I emailed her what I was going to say with a plea for clarity and an apology for forgetting.) That bipolar disorder is covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act. That I should go to the HR department in Dallas if I felt that I wasn’t getting anywhere with GG. That there are simple accomodations that can be made for me that won’t cost the fucking dear company a dime. I can sit in the back and answer the phones. I can be the cutter/puller. Anything that keeps me away from the great unwashed populace is good. Anything that doesn’t require me to be “on” is good. HH said that the job is like being in a show and that we have to be “on” pretty much all of the time. Let’s see how long other people last under this regime. Let’s see.
N.B. I know that the phrase is “trials and tribulations.” Someone said it to me the other way once in all seriousness and I had to work very hard to not crack up in their face. So I can act. Just not while my chemistry is fucked up.
UPDATE: 11:36 pm
Took my dose with some oozy mac and cheese. Yum! Total comfort food. Watched the first episode of BUGS from the BBC. It kind of really sucked. Filmed in the mid-nineties in the UK, so that translates to early eighties US. Style-wise, anyway.
I got cut roses and an flowering plant from my brother, a pearl necklace from my mother, and a check from my father. At work, JA announced over the intercom that it was my birthday (“It’s Lys’ birthday. The girl in the red shirt. Let’s sing happy birthday to her.” She is *loud*) and then proceeded to sing Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs. Oh. My. Dear. All day my cow-orkers wished me happy birthday and after JA (her name is an anagram of “jaunty as inane” on 
