On Again, Off Again, On Again, Off Again...

Last week, I posted about an individual I've been spending time with, about how I decided to no longer spend time with him because I have issues dating people. Unfortunately, we work together, and last Sunday we were stuck under the same roof for a consecutive twenty seven hours. Our cars were both wedged into snow banks over three feet high, I hadn't taken my CrazyMeds in two days, and my boss strongly suspected that both of us were close to losing it.

He, not knowing that we had decided to stop spending time together, told us to help ourselves to his car, and get our crazed and maniacal persons AWAY from the crazed and maniacal teenagers that he was about to spend the day with. So, we went, in the same car, exhausted and not talking, feeling slightly like death, to his apartment.

I'm sure that in some people's lives, the story that follows would involve passionate kissing and make-up making out, candle light and tears flowing freely. In MY story, however, it involved me getting to his apartment, curling up in a ball on his couch, and passing out because my brain was TRYING TO CRAWL OUT OF MY EARS. That's what happens when I don't take my meds, my organs simply try to escape my body and I feel like I'm going to die.

He was supposed to return me to work after my brief nap, where I could work yet another shift and then go home to my bed. Unfortunately, I wasn't yet very coherent, and I was convinced that I would show up at work, slap each of the children silly, swear at my boss, and quit for good. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly sensible plan; but this boy had different ideas.

His idea involved buying me beer, setting me up with jammies in front of the television and a high speed internet connection, and allowing me to veg out in silence, where I was not at risk for assaulting those who came into contact with me.

Clearly, he is a clever, clever man.

Ever since I lost my mind last fall, I have been very cautious about doing anything to my personal life that may cause me to lose sleep or points on the Amanda Sanity Meter. So, I haven't dated people because, even though I've met nice people, the idea of a breakup or any relationship turmoil kind of makes me want to throw up.

I've been in a really good place mentally and physically for the last year. I've been mostly sane and rational, mostly able to cope with the stressors of every day life. You know, those things you do every day, like putting on pants or washing your hair, that are just downright impossible when you're living in the depths of emotional hell.

I suppose that the main fear I have is that I don't want to do anything that messes with this good place that I'm in right now. I don't want to add anything or take away from my life in any way in case it is the factor that causes everything to go right back to where it was a year ago.

But that's the problem with mental health issues; they catch you in their grips and they don't ever let go; they make you fear them and cringe when you think of them so that they control almost every aspect of your life.

I really think that it is time for me to quit living in fear and put an end to living in the grasp of something that is currently right within my control.

So, I have a New Year's Resolution this year, for the first time ever, to try and date this individual and be worry free and just bask in the fact that I have someone to talk on the phone to.

Hopefully, all goes well. If not....

Well, Jack Daniel's has always been faithful to me.