My current level of depression can only be described as such — if I could punch myself in the face repeatedly to make it go away, I would do it in a heartbeat. I am soooo not impressed with my broken-ass brain and its wonky chemicals, let me tell you. That I can sit here cracking jokes with and smiling at my kids while the main part of me wants to hide from the world and cry… ugh. I’m not a crier, I should emphasise, so this is super freaking annoying. -__-
Mind, I knew that I wasn’t likely to see any significant change in a week or two. I had hoped something would shift, but… well. Maybe by Thursday when I see Dr. K next? Probably not. I wonder what she’s going to want to do. Add a second antidepressant? Up the Zoloft? Switch one for another? She understands well that this isn’t safe territory for me (even if I somehow survived with it for years and years), so hopefully she’ll be able to sit with me with properly close together appointments to try and get this shit sorted out. Hopefully.
For now, the days drag molasses slow, as days washed in depression do so well. Even though I’m still finding joy in doing my things and all that, it’s definitely a bit washed out by it. Rude. But I’m stubborn; I’ll keep dragging through until things are back in order. I just wish that it was sooner rather than later. ¬¬
Hope all of y’all out there are doing a fair sight better!