Went back to my psychiatrist and reported that the anxiety was largely gone with the Xanax, but it has become more clear that I’m in a serious depression. So he wanted to know how I spent my days and I gave him a run down like I had in my essay due this week for class–he said his advice would be to up my Pristiq and get out and DO MORE. So I will see what I can do in that direction in the coming weeks after my youngest one’s birthday. He was writing out a scrip for all my meds, and he got halfway down the page and sighed and looked at me. I said, “If you think it’s not fun writing them all down, guess how I feel having to take them all every day.”
He said he was just wondering whether red wine or white would pair better with this “meal of medications”. “Or the house wine, sweet tea,” he added. I said my drug of choice was Dr. Pepper. SO we parted on a little humorous moment. He really is a decent human being and all. I can’t imagine where he stores all the human misery he sees every day. I remember not being able to deal with other people’s problems while working for disability.
I started on my first major essay for class today. 2,500 words on whatever we want. I picked the summer that I first started having serious problems with bipolar disorder, starting with my car accident and ending with Hurricane Katrina. I could have written triple that if I had included Bob’s fire accident and having Rachel barely a week later. So hopefully I will get some good feedback on how to make my memoir better and some suggestions I can apply throughout it.