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Tired but tenitively hopeful
Oct. 3rd, 2018 09:11 pmI cycle back here, what, every 8 months? When I have something different to say, I suppose.
Well, here we are. Insurance is finally getting put to use and as fucking terrified as I was of being told to 'work harder/try harder' to overcome my depression or that my being sturdy physically would bite me in the ass, I scheduled a thing and did it.
Needles have gotten smaller.
Long and short, I guess I'm officially diagnosed with something I know has been kicking into higher gear for the past 5 or so years. Thankfully, I didn't have to pay to hear something I already knew, nor for the Escitalopram (5mg) prescription that I've been now on for 3 days. The smart thing to do is track it. Were I 16 again, I'd be putting pen to paper but we don't live in that day and age now.
Day 1 and 2 were good. My base level of existence wasn't plagued with a resigned 'why bother trying to say or do anything because it'll be stopped and it doesn't matter is easier then getting mad' to the point where I feel faded, like a painted picture of a personality that had faded so badly from sun and elements that there's barely any painting there. Frankly, that's a great first step.
I'm a resilient soul. I conform, I take my hits and keep my head down to avoid notice and focus on getting the hell outta dodge. I know the steps to this fight and I feel like maybe, just maybe, I'll get a little gas to step outta the ring and smell the roses or something.
We're on day 3 and it's a downward trend. All 3 nights I've been bushed by 8:30, but I kind of have an appetite again. I can eat without being nauseous while doing so. Its easier to eat, to swallow, and its somehow less of a chore. Sleep quality has also gone up too. I'm okay with that trade off.
I have to watch my weight, which I've really been doing for a while now, but every time my situation leads to a better eating lifestyle for me I've lost pounds. Here's hoping it continues.
Well, here we are. Insurance is finally getting put to use and as fucking terrified as I was of being told to 'work harder/try harder' to overcome my depression or that my being sturdy physically would bite me in the ass, I scheduled a thing and did it.
Needles have gotten smaller.
Long and short, I guess I'm officially diagnosed with something I know has been kicking into higher gear for the past 5 or so years. Thankfully, I didn't have to pay to hear something I already knew, nor for the Escitalopram (5mg) prescription that I've been now on for 3 days. The smart thing to do is track it. Were I 16 again, I'd be putting pen to paper but we don't live in that day and age now.
Day 1 and 2 were good. My base level of existence wasn't plagued with a resigned 'why bother trying to say or do anything because it'll be stopped and it doesn't matter is easier then getting mad' to the point where I feel faded, like a painted picture of a personality that had faded so badly from sun and elements that there's barely any painting there. Frankly, that's a great first step.
I'm a resilient soul. I conform, I take my hits and keep my head down to avoid notice and focus on getting the hell outta dodge. I know the steps to this fight and I feel like maybe, just maybe, I'll get a little gas to step outta the ring and smell the roses or something.
We're on day 3 and it's a downward trend. All 3 nights I've been bushed by 8:30, but I kind of have an appetite again. I can eat without being nauseous while doing so. Its easier to eat, to swallow, and its somehow less of a chore. Sleep quality has also gone up too. I'm okay with that trade off.
I have to watch my weight, which I've really been doing for a while now, but every time my situation leads to a better eating lifestyle for me I've lost pounds. Here's hoping it continues.
