I took my 7th shot yesterday mid-afternoon.  Had a horrible night - not
as horrible as I've had, but still agitated, upset, sleepless.  

I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it to the birthday
party/bowling party this afternoon for a close friend of mine but I
encouraged my BF to go without me.  I really don't mind being left alone
and while his instinct to try to make me fell better is a wonderful
thing, my side-effect-driven desire to tell him to leave me alone isn't
something I want him to experience.  

I was going along pretty steady, though.  I made a fresh tomato salad
for him to take and I offered to drive him since the party is starting
off on the upper east side of Manhattan and it's a hassle to get there
from our house using public transport.  Midday Saturday, just over the
bridge, no traffic, no problem.

The FDR drive (down the east side of Manhattan) had roadwork stoppage
around 140th so we got off the hiway to take surface streets.  That part
of Harlem has a lot of boarded up buildings and people just sauntering
across the street with no regard for anything, so that was fun, but I
did OK.  Finally we're driving down 3rd Ave (I think) which runs
north/south and he yells "turn here!  here!  92nd!".  I was about 20
feet from the corner and I am normally a really good driver and I made
the left fine, but the sudden adrenaline rush overwhelmed me and I had
to pull over and have a good cry.  

At some point I would like to start a discussion about how people deal
with this treatment with their spouses/partners/whatevers.  

Dropped him off, made it home fine, but it's that sort of thing that
just grabs me by surprise and makes me nervous about more surprises when
I won't be able to deal with them.

So now I have a mint julep mud pack drying on my face and am soon to
slip into a hot oily bath.  It's always worked in the past :)