Friday, I started on Wellbutrin. It makes me a little muzzy headed about an hour after I take it, though that's starting to clear up. Not sure if it's helping or not, though the effects can take a week or more to kick in, so I guess we'll see, and up the dosage to 3x daily if needed.
This week is going to be trying to find someone, somewhere, who will take the things of Howard's that need to be consigned/liquidated/whatever. And moving them from out of the dining room, at the very least, even if it has to be moving them to the guest room. Part of me feels like a horrible person for wanting everything gone. Part of me just hears Howard telling me that all he wants is for me to be happy, and I can get rid of whatever I want. Sigh. I don't know.
I might start on getting the walls in the master bathroom stripped of the wallpaper goo so I can paint them. I'd kinda like to invite company to dinner, but we'll see. I feel a little better from the Wellbutrin, but I still have HUGE anxiety issues, so we'll see how well I deal with that.
The anxiety is new. I've dealt with it, but it's never been like this; it's never been this bad and debilitating. I've never been so scared to reach out to someone and say, "I really don't want to be by myself right now. Will you come hang out with me? I'll make dinner." The problem with something broken in your brain is that you can *see* where it's broken. You can recognize that yep, that's a broken bit. But you can't get around it. You can't make it not be broken, and you can't logic your way past it. It's like walking the Broken Pattern of Amber. That break is in all the shadows you travel to.