Another Freaking Entry About Depression
shrink: so. how are you doing
me: well, i stopped taking the prozac because i was tired. then i broke down into serious crying jags every other hour and then got back on the prozac. it's been one crazy ride, doc.
shrink: you were tired of taking the prozac or you were feeling lethargic in general.
me: damn, that's a hard choice. i guess it was because it was making me tired. the kind of tired you feel after staying up all night making deviled eggs for some wedding. or maybe it's more like the kind of tired you get when your cat pisses on your newly folded laundry.
shrink: i see. so. well, i'm glad that you started with the prozac again. i think that you should keep up with that... and take more. yeah, yeah! take more.
me: groovy. that's just what i was hoping you would say.
actually, that's not what i was hoping he'd say at freaking all. i called him last week as i watched my last nerve slowly bend under the pressure and get squished. he said "head on over to the loony bin, that'll do ya" or something to that affect. while i didn't take his advice and waited it out until our appointment today... i guess i was just hoping for a bit more than take more.
i don't think that pills are going to be the answer. i don't think that going back in the psych ward is the answer. i think that slowly working with meds and patience and time and a whole lot of freaking work will get me through this. only one small snag in that there reasoning, my friends...
one you are depressed you don't want to do any work. you especially don't want to work on anything that will make you better. others may think you are a pathetic so-and-so as a result but this does not help your resolve or get you in the bootstrap yanking mode.
in the past few years i notice that i can clean a friends apartment from top to bottom in a few hours. the kind of clean that would leave my grandmother with no choice but to finally sit down - that kind of clean. however, if you look in my room right now you will find that half of the clothes i own are either on the floor or are wadded up in a duffel by the door.
that there is a sad, sad analogy for my state of mind. my lot can be one twisted, muddled lot and i don't give a hoot. someone else in trouble, then i'm there on the double. this is evidenced by my taking off work yesterday to care for the boy instead of just admitting that i have a cold myself and need to sit the hell down.
dear reader, if you are consistently annoyed with my lack of doing anything that remotely resembles action i sympathize with you. the thing is that action is the thing i seem to be least suited for at the moment. it doesn't stop me from doing... it just makes it a bit more challenging.
now go read mommylap if you haven't already. she's always good for what ails ya.
