This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today I join the medicated masses. I've been having a rough couple of weeks, so I asked for today and tomorrow off work. I also saw a doctor today to get those antidepressants I've been saying I'll get for I don't know how many years now. The whole experience was so weird. The nurse (It's a nurse, right? The person who sees a patient and asks general health questions before the doctor comes in) seemed uncomfortable discussing my symptoms, asked questions which I felt were too personal. She asked me to show her the marks from picking my skin. She tried to tell me that yoga might help my depression. Okay, but I came in for meds, thanks. I told her that I came to this doctor because my therapist assured me that he'd prescribe an antidepressant even though I smoke pot. She asked, "This might be a stupid question but... is pot marijuana?" .....How are you in a medical profession without knowing that? The doctor, a gentle-mannered old man who I've seen intermittently since I was a teenager, seemed to know how to talk to a depressed patient better. He prescribed the generic equivalent of Lexapro, told me to take omega 3s (I already do), and exercise. And to read The Depression Cure, which my therapist has been harping on me to read for years, so FINE, I'll read it already. I walked to the pharmacy next door, wandered around while I waited for my prescription, paid only $6.80 because FUCK YEAH prescription coverage. There is horribleawfuldisgusting road construction everywhere in this town right now, but especially in that area, so I walked down the block so I could cross the street and then walk back up that same street on the other side, to get to the bookstore to buy The Depression Cure. They did not have The Depression Cure. So I got a coffee, bought a crochet magazine and a deck of cards so JK and I can play games, and walked back to my car. Ugh, I just realized I am recounting very inconsequential events, but they feel important to me. Anyway, I came home, took 5 mg, and fucked around all evening. I have a headache, a really stiff back and shoulders, and a general apathetic feeling. JK's about to get off work, and I'd like to see him just because today has been a weird day, and I feel weird, and I feel like I need somebody with me for a while. But we've seen each other every day for at least the past four days, and he is so introverted, I'm sure he's feeling exhausted at this point. Maybe I'll walk over and then only stay for a while. Maybe I'll suck it up and not tell him I need him. Because I know he's too nice and too passive to tell me he would prefer a night to himself. Heh. Never mind. He just texted and asked if I'd like to go to the bookstore with him. Same bookstore I was just at. But I'm going, because I need to get out of the apartment. Just for something to do. Better go get ready. 8:09 p.m. - 2014-08-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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