Who'll Notice That I'm Not Around?

Yes, I've been hiding out the past several days.

Part of it's due to my going out and forcing myself to be sociable - if only to end up grumpy most of the time.

Another part of it would be my depression starting to really feel unbearable. I've been out of meds for a while *ducks and hides under desk for the next lifetime* ... and as is the case, I did alright for a short time. Then, things started to get really bad.

It's more than just apathy. I can't sleep for anything - or I over-sleep. My libido is gone again. My desire to be around anybody is almost nil. The most stupid, minor things, reduce me to tears. And it's taken me this damn long to get off my ass and call the doctor to get in for an appointment.

I really am fucked up - not like that's news to anyone, anymore.

Have a good evening everyone - I've got some work to finish up, then it's off to the Dentist and OA.

(no subject)

Okay, perhaps I should put my pity party on (near-indefinite) hold. Especially since when you feel like you've got it so bad and start to feel sorry for yourself for whatever predicament you get yourself into - you end up coming across someone else that has it worse than you, and is more deserving of sympathy.

In that case, it would be my stepdad. You all probably know about the accident he was in a couple of months ago. Well, he's still seeing the chiropractor, and unfortunately, he's been under so much stress that it's thrown his blood sugar completely out of whack (he's diabetic), which has been affecting his vision.

Today, my stepdad went to the opthamologist, who has him going back on Friday for about three hours' worth of evaluations and tests, and possibly laser surgery that evening. That news made my being bitch-slapped and beaten down by my depression seem like nothing. It even made my 1 1/2 hours in the dentist's chair this evening seem like a walk in the park.

I have no idea what can be done for my stepdad's blood sugar levels vacillating so wildly (from the 80s to 300s in a matter of hours, apparently). I mean, besides the internist giving him Mommy's Little Helper (Xanax or Valium) to try and keep the stress levels down by completely mellowing him out.

Yes, this does make me a little freaked out. Then again, almost anything can do that since I'm seeming to be on-edge the past couple of weeks.

Fuck, just give me the Xanax - or perhaps a boot to the head - and maybe I can mellow out too.

( a little pick-me (or pick-you) up )