So I filled the prescription for my depression meds. They are currently sitting on my counter where they have been for the past number of days. I just am not sure I want to start taking them. I'm back to where we started.
I feel better. The fog has started to lift. My motivation seems okay. I have started my cross stitching again. Currently, the only symptom is I still have a hard time getting up in the morning. That and I spend a huge amount of time in front of the computer.
Once I start, I think it will be hard to stop. That means a long time on meds. I really hate that idea. But, as I told someone else, "You know what you need to do." I should follow my own advice.
Here goes!
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Monday, January 11, 2010
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
sorry, not tonight dear.
The honeymoon is over. I'm not sure it ever really begun.
I've been starting to feel blue lately. Not much emotion other than BLAH! It feels like I haven't smiled in days and I am wading through my life like wading through a knee high snow drift.
It could have something to do with the conversation I had with my mom. She has stopped talking to my aunt because my aunt offended her by calling her "high maintenance" because of all of the stories she tells (really, they are incessant.) My mom didn't take kindly to that and for almost 3 months has not made any effort to connect with my aunt. I also put my foot in it when my mom asked me if I thought she was high maintenance. That was a hard one to answer.
The truth is YES! Very!
My mom doesn't handle the truth about herself very well. So, I Tried to speak kindly and graciously. Let's just say, it's not my strong point. Now I can't tell if she is mad at me too. (((BIG SIGH))) It always seems to go this way. This time, though, I wouldn't let her off the phone until we talked some more. Previously, after I had said something that hurt her, a few days later I would get a call from my dad saying how hurt mom was. It's like walking on eggshells. I think I am learning to appreciate her more, but then something like this happens and I feel lost as sea again.
I could also be feeling blue because now I have discovered that eating isn't fun anymore and depending on me and my pouch, it may never be again. NOT only is it not fun, but thoughts of what I can eat and can't eat consumes most waking moments! AHHHH! One blog I read today says that even 2 years out, eating isn't fun anymore. Making the food can be fun, but not eating.
To try and keep a proper perspective, there are lots of people who say the enjoy their food even more after surgery. They eat what they love in a slow, controlled way. Mr. Pouchie doesn't allow for gorging. They are more careful with the quality and flavour. Quality definitely wins out over quantity. This is where I want to be. One day...
I've been starting to feel blue lately. Not much emotion other than BLAH! It feels like I haven't smiled in days and I am wading through my life like wading through a knee high snow drift.
It could have something to do with the conversation I had with my mom. She has stopped talking to my aunt because my aunt offended her by calling her "high maintenance" because of all of the stories she tells (really, they are incessant.) My mom didn't take kindly to that and for almost 3 months has not made any effort to connect with my aunt. I also put my foot in it when my mom asked me if I thought she was high maintenance. That was a hard one to answer.
The truth is YES! Very!
My mom doesn't handle the truth about herself very well. So, I Tried to speak kindly and graciously. Let's just say, it's not my strong point. Now I can't tell if she is mad at me too. (((BIG SIGH))) It always seems to go this way. This time, though, I wouldn't let her off the phone until we talked some more. Previously, after I had said something that hurt her, a few days later I would get a call from my dad saying how hurt mom was. It's like walking on eggshells. I think I am learning to appreciate her more, but then something like this happens and I feel lost as sea again.
I could also be feeling blue because now I have discovered that eating isn't fun anymore and depending on me and my pouch, it may never be again. NOT only is it not fun, but thoughts of what I can eat and can't eat consumes most waking moments! AHHHH! One blog I read today says that even 2 years out, eating isn't fun anymore. Making the food can be fun, but not eating.
To try and keep a proper perspective, there are lots of people who say the enjoy their food even more after surgery. They eat what they love in a slow, controlled way. Mr. Pouchie doesn't allow for gorging. They are more careful with the quality and flavour. Quality definitely wins out over quantity. This is where I want to be. One day...
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