I’ve been having a tough week. Been very sleepy. Can’t seem to concentrate long enough to read anything of length. Been eating like crazy (to keep awake and just seem hungry all the time). And weeping. Not the huge breakdowns, but weeping, just the same. And, I don’t feel better when I’m done.
Yesterday, I called my dad and told him I was having a bad morning and asked him to meet me for lunch. He was quick to agree and did wonders for me. Helped me talk about other things. Helped me analyze what had been happening that could have triggered this episode. Waited at home for me to find out what the doctor said. He was awesome. Just what I needed.
So, fortunately, yesterday I had a scheduled appointment with my psychiatrist. After I updated him on the past six weeks, he said that it sounded as though I was depressed. After thinking about it (and the above symptoms), I agreed. So, he’s upping the Cymbalta. Which I was going to ask about anyway. So we were on the same page.
The only problem is that now I have to wait at least a week for this stuff to start to make a difference. My patience is as short as Herve Villacheze. I hate that more than the weepiness. I know I am short on patience, but it just rises to the top so quickly that I can’t seem to do anything about it before it spurts out.
Sorry to bring everyone down, but this blog really helps, plus I can let my friends and family know without having to repeat it and (gasp) talk on the phone.