I’m having one of those days. Actually, I’m having a string of them in a row.
I have a tendency to paint extra-rosy pictures when people ask me how I’m doing. I don’t like to whine or cause worry, but mostly I don’t like for people to see me as weak. That feels like failure to me. So if we’ve talked recently and I’ve told you everything was fine… I lied. Sorry.
Things have not, actually, been fine. They have been crummy. My body has decided to punish me interminably, and I haven’t been able to do a single thing about it. I have a new pdoc, you see. He changed my meds, at my request. I was spending too much time in the depressive zone, and it was time to make a change.
There is always an adjustment period with any med change, and this time around has been no exception. It’s been bad. Really, really bad. He made more changes than I’m used to making at once, and since I was hypomanic during our appointment, I didn’t stick to my generally cautious guns. Somebody please remind me to never do that again– Med-change Meg is conservative for a reason!
We’ve made some more adjustments during this past week to calm things down, so hopefully I won’t have any more serious problems. Hopefully. In the meantime, I’m breathing, and planning to keep doing so regularly, thankyouverymuch. I just might not be able to breathe and write at the same time.