I even had the date on the calendar. I wrote it there weeks ago. And then every time I looked I saw it as a Tuesday and not a Monday. So I turned up and my doctor doesn’t even work on Tuesdays.
The day has completely plummeted. I welled up, and the lovely receptionist took my number for the doctor to give me a call tomorrow. And any rational person would be very grateful for that after what was my mistake. But I’m not rational. I am a mess today. I was so keen to discuss coming off the sertraline. And I had only missed a day, so it wasn’t a big thing. But now I have to tussle with the idea of taking a tablet today, or waiting until tomorrow and speaking to the doctor. And written down this looks like a pathetically small issue. But I’m into month 3, and the depression has its grip, and I went on to medication to lessen the depression. All that seems to have happened is I have had a couple of meh days, a few hyper days, and still plenty of depressive days. I can’t go on like this. I really can’t. And it is affecting my family more and more with every passing day. I don’t know whether or how going cold turkey could actually be any worse than the way things are right now. And maybe it turns out that citalopram did help more than I acknowledged, because I have never ever been this bad while on a tablet. Or maybe I have and I blamed it on a host of other things. Now I look back, I was on pills while suffering pnd and it wasn’t a great time.
I am so angry and agitated and short tempered and fed up with it all.
Today is the sort of day where you don’t even care whether you step in dog shit. You’ll just chuck your shoes out. It is the sort of day where you are past caring about your red blotchy tear stained face. And it is the sort of day that I am going to spend in bed. Because socialisation is not possible, and waiting to speak to the doctor feels like an eternity.
God knows how this day will go.