Cliffnotes:
Internist wrote the Rx for it. I double checked with the nephrologist, who gave the go-ahead. Today I get the Rx filled, and I'll take it after vacation. No sense in fucking up a well deserved, much needed vacation by starting an antidepressant. So I'll fill the Rx and it'll be ready for me when I return.
The Unabridged Version:
Some folks might view both, my surgically altering myself with the gastric bypass, as well as my decision to now start taking antidepressants, as the easy way out. Life is short. I've tried my best. Time to leave it to the professionals to help me power through, achieve some goals, and make the most of whatever time I've got left here on Planet Earth. Good thing for me is, what other folks think, rarely changes or affects my reality. Opinions are like assholes, and all that rot.
No. I'm not morose. This is a reality for all of us. I just choose not to live in functional denial about my mortality. This is why when someone is cruel to me, or my efforts fall flat, or not getting some reasonable semblance of acknowledgement or appreciation at work truly does affect me negatively. Once my time is spent, I will never be able to recoup that time. Ever. Money? Yes. Time? No. Once it's spent, it's gone.
Today I'm all out of sorts, as my human alarm clock (the husband) neglected to get me up in time for me to shower up and get out of the house on time, so I can have my phone in session with the therapist in the parking garage before work. Put the cart before the horse as a result, did the phone in session before I left the house, showered and shampooed up and got to the office an hour late as a result. So my day is out of synch entirely.
Session was good. Not sure what else to say about the matter. Feeling very bleak at the moment, and feeling like the human embodiment of a Ticonderoga #2, sharpened down, used up, until there's nothing but a broken point nubbin' of a pencil w/a worn down eraser, too small to effectively hold and use anymore. Truly feel like I have nothing more to offer anyone or anything.
I don't feel sad. I feel depressed. Physically. Emotionally. And the last six months have been exceedingly taxing on me. One thing after another. One medical wild goose chase after another, all demanding time and attention, time and attention AND ENERGY which could have been more effectively used to address the TO DO items on my rainy day project list: follow up sleep study to get my CPAP levels tweaked; follow up w/a physiatrist, check out either/or/both Feldenkrais or a pilates class. You name it. Only so much time I can take off from work, and only so much energy and fortitude for me to power through to the next action item.
Here it is, December fast on our heels approaching. End of year. And I'm no better off than I was at the beginning of this year.
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