Conundrums

So this is essentially how the last three or so weeks have gone for me, in a nutshell. (holding steady) Gearing up for finals, and Thanksgiving week was approaching. My medications were also being tweaked with, which was unpleasant at best. (holding steady) Decided to change my mind, because it was exceedingly important to Sissy that I go to Bakersfield, for holiday crap, so I went, but had panic attacks, due to the change in medication increase, and my old meds going bonkers with the doseage situation. (holding steady) Got back into town, to discover that my apartment's been broken into, and I'm more than a little rattled, but handled what needed to be handled, and moved on with things. (holding steady) Dealing with a difficult professor who can't be reached and had to contact the Dean to help alleviate the situation. (holding steady) Coping with studying for finals, and all that entails. (holding steady) Medication tweaks are making me sick and over-exhausted, and still trying to function around that, and not crash in and out of depression. (holding steady) Massive uproar and fight with Jeremiah due to douchebagness, and resolution, because it made Sissy happy. (holding steady) Different set of fighting, without resolution this time with the Bakersfield crowd, and not sure where that'll end up. (holding steady) Pulled down finals, and grades are in, tagged high enough GPA to make honors, which I was proud of. (holding steady)

Through ALL OF THIS CRAP, I managed to keep my shit together. And it was a fair amount of not-blogged-about, I'm simply scanning through the highlights here, stuff. I actually have coped fairly well, and managed to keep myself together.

I'm not particularly holding it together now. Didn't take much, to knock me over, which is kind of sad, in retrospect. I shouldn't have been all that surprised, to find that when poked at by that particular stick, it would slide through like a hot knife through butter. I don't have a defense against it. I wasn't even looking for it, I was looking at something else entirely. And being caught completely off-guard simply made it hurt that much worse.

So now, I'm sitting here, alone, staring blankly at the wall about half the time, feeling like I've been punched. Because it fucking hurts. Because I *didn't* do anything wrong, and I still feel like I'm being punished, for what I've lost, and it fucking sucks. And I want to be angry. I want to sit and scream and be furious. And all I am is depressed, and lonely and hurt.