Paranoid and struggling

The clock on my computer says it's 1:35 am. I should probably be in bed but instead I'm sitting here, posting on my blog. The Seroquel I need in order to sleep is sitting in front of me, ready to be taken, but yet I can't seem to force myself to down it. It's been a struggle all week to take it. Most nights I've cut the pill in half, unable to take the full 200 mgs.

Again the paranoia has returned. I worry that the house will burn down around me if I take the full dosage because it knocks me out so deeply. Worried that someone will break in and harm my daughter. Concerned about my already high genetic risk for developing diabetes and then adding to it a medication that is linked to causing that same illness. Fear that I'm being doped up as a means of mind control. Just knowing there is a remote possibility that all are real threats, except maybe the mind control one, makes me unable to quell the paranoia. Unable to swallow a pill that at other times I can ingest without giving it a second thought.

I don't know if the paranoia is related to the increase in stress from the whole Medicaid situation and/or maybe the rise in anxiety as Monday quickly approaches. I've agreed to do some groups during the day again and that has me getting more and more anxious as the hours tick down to Monday morning at 10 am.

Interestingly, some of the groups I've chosen to do relate to things I've recently posted about...stress and social retardedness. I'm only going two days a week because I'm just not interested in any of the groups on the other days and because I don't want to drive out to this place more often than that. So I'll be going on Mondays for two groups, Focus on Your Treatment and Social Skills; and on Tuesday for three groups, Conversational Skills, Creative Writing and Stress Management.

I'm trying not to give in to the anxiety. To the fear of being around strangers and having to talk to them or in front of them. To the stress of knowing I now have a schedule I need to adhere to, as minimal as it may seem to others, it seems overwhelming to me. If I give in, I'll quit before I've even set foot in the first group. Knowing that I've done this before and didn't die or anything doesn't seem to help diminish the anxiety any, though I know that it should.

It's always a battle when you're mentally ill. You're hindered so much by the symptoms of your illnesses, yet you try desperately to fight against them because giving in prevents you from doing the things you know you need to do in order to hopefully improve the quality of your life. If only those trying to help me would acknowledge that struggle and realize I really am trying. Not everyone wins every battle.