According to Candlemass, to open up your dreams, you need seven silver keys. And I think I've decided that I want to journey to find my dreams, and I'm going to start with finding seven silver keys to make a necklace out of. I already have one. :) Too bad I still can't identify what my dreams are. But tonight, I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with is what happened to me while I was on Wellbutrin. Everyone keeps talking about how different I was, and how they like having the new me back. I'm sorry if I ever hurt anyone during that period of time, but talking about it makes me totally uncomfortable. I realize what had happened to me during that time, but it's almost like because (once again) I'm so uncomfortable with it, I blocked it out of my mind, you know? I know that isn't necessarily the right thing to do, but it wasn't me. I want to blame the medication, and I want to blame what was going on... but I almost feel like I can't. It was me, yes. I made the decision to go see David-Shea, I made the decision to fight with my mom... but it was only while I was taking that medication? That doesn't make sense. Alas, all I can do is move on from it, I guess. Tomorrow I'm going to see a medication specialist at therapy. My therapist had suggested that I meet with the medication specialist just after seeing him, and it made me pretty happy to know that he was serious about me, you know? I know that sounds kind of silly, but I don't think I've ever really gotten good treatment, no matter where I've gone. This includes social services. Today, I went to orientation for assistance. I was greeted in the parking lot by two chicks not much older than myself in Mercedes with babies. Lo and behold, I was told that I had to come back to be interviewed for assistance, but they were able to stay because they had children. All I can do is lift my chin and move on from here. I think that's what I'm going to do.