Anne, I'm so sorry. My thoughts are with you.
****
As if to prove his potential as a therapy dog, Cagney was clearly distressed that there were 20 five year olds refusing to touch him!
Ahahaha, Frankie would be distraught.
I'm glad I had bounced back somewhat from my funk this weekend, because I just found out that my grandma is going into assisted living (she hasn't recovered mentally or physically from the pneumonia to go back to her apartment from rehab) and it's happening in the next week or so. Which means there are decisions to be made about all her stuff. I don't think it'll get ugly - we all have way too much stuff and I don't think any of us care about one thing enough to pick a fight; but I finally have to decide whether I want the antique red velvet sofa that's had my name on it (literally; a piece of masking tape somewhere on the underside) for about fifteen years. And then there's all the emotional stuff it brings up, too. Harder on my dad than me, for sure, but it's another transition and sign that she's closer to dying.
Also, my roommate noticed that Bella has worms, which means all three of my animals need vet appointments. I love my pets, but damn.
Also, my roommate noticed that Bella has worms, which means all three of my animals need vet appointments. I love my pets, but damn.
Panacur, yo!
Super inexpensive and amazingly effective.
So my day was semi productive. I got my blood drawn. Went to therapy. Went to the grocery store.
And my appetite is back with a vengeance since I went back on the full dose of Seroquel. I had no idea how much I actually ate until my appetite decreased.
My therapist is leaving in July and but I may transition to another therapist sooner, though if I need more support with the medication changes. Although I think it will be a good change, I like my therapist, but at times it's been easy for us to get side tracked in therapy and I think I need someone who can keep me on track and maybe help me be a little more goal oriented.
I'm turning 40 in June and I think that's going to be hitting me very hard, especially with this last year.
In omigod that's so sweet news, my brother posted a "worksheet" called I love My Dad that my nephew did at preschool. The teacher filled it in for him.
It says:
My Dad's name is L
He is
24
years old
10 feet
tall and weighs
1340 pounds.
His favorite food is eggs and vegetables
My Dad is really good at carrying things and paddling a kayak
He loves to go to work
My favorite thing to do with my Dad is play games.
I am just like my Dad because "we have the same eyes".
What I love most about my Dad is he loves me!
That is sweet, Askye! I hope things go ok with the transition between therapists and your search for the right meds.
Clearly he sees his dad as a John Bunyan type of figure.
I'm so sorry, Anne.
Probably only Allie Brosh could make "your fish are dead" a comfort.
That is adorable, askye.
bonny, I think I'll call my vet tomorrow and ask how much a fecal test is. I can just bring in a sample, they're a nonprofit so rates are pretty low. Xusha has ear mites and/or a yeast infection in her ears, and Frankie is overdue for shots.
Thanks Windy.
I feel like I'm in this weird middle ground where I'm better than I was (not depressed and anxiety is manageable) but not sure of what to do next. And how to track my progress. I haven't worked since I left the temp job due to anxiety and that was...August I think? And looking at job listings no longer makes me hyperventilate and start crying, I just feel a low level of dread. So that's good?
And I know I'm really privileged to have the support I have so I end up feeling guilty about that times.
And my confidence in my ability to work has totally been shot, I keep thinking I'll wait until the medication makes me more stable, but what if that takes a while and I'm not sure what to do? And I've talked to with my family and Will and my therapist and they are all okay with how things are progressing but...
I hate my brain sometimes.
Clearly he sees his dad as a John Bunyan type of figure.
Yes, as is right and proper.