Sometimes I feel like sharing. Sometimes, you might feel like sharing what I felt like sharing. When you do, now you know where to come for it.
Did you miss me?
Yeah, I've been gone for a while. For most of eighteen months, actually. No real reason why. I've been active over on Empty Closets, and elsewhere online. But I didn't delete my account. I know what a capricious bastard I can be, and I knew I might decide to return and start posting like crazy again. And whaddayaknow? Here I be.
So what motivated the return? The answer is kinda obvious: sex.
For all the other places I post
I went to the see the doctor last week, and he agreed to start weaning me off of my anti-depressants. I was expecting this to be a long, drawn-out process, but it only took a week. So is that it? Am I on the other side of it?
I went through one other depression, back in 1994-95. The actual depression part was pretty much over by January. But there was this...aftereffect. A hangover, sort of. It lasted a couple of months. I spent more time mulling over
I haven't updated people via my blog on my depression, because there hasn't been too much to say. It's still been good days and bad days, good moments and bad moments. When I'm down, it feels like I haven't made much progress at all, and I feel like I'm gonna feel like this for a lot longer. But even those down times feel better than my down times a few weeks ago.
When I'm up, I can see things more rationally. I'm actually making great progress. I've had one bad day in the last
What a difference a week makes. I went on a mild anti-depressant nine days ago, started working out on a regular basis, and had some big projects to focus on. And finally, the clouds started lifting.
Saturday was pretty much the nadir. I spent all day in a depressive fog, and had to literally force my thoughts at all times away from negativity. And then, something bizarre happened. Pubert and I were talking to a guy at a store, and suddenly, briefly, I felt different. I reached
I finally got to the doctor yesterday, and had a good long talk with her about my depression. We discussed all my symptoms, how long I've had them, and how it compared to my last bout thirteen years back. (Pretty much the same, except back then I got hardly any sleep at all, and now I'm getting more sleep than normal.) We talked about therapy, but both of us agreed that it didn't sound like this was a situation where therapy would be that helpful. After all, I actually DO still like my life,