was the day today. My mood sort of matched. I don't think it has sunk in yet that I'm officially never going to go in to a job I've grown to hate. Well, assuming I never take another job I hate, that is. I spent the weekend completing my year in servitude. Giving two weeks notice and then having to complete said weeks is agonizing. Instead of secretly finding joy in never having to say this or put up with that again, I typically spent my time berating myself for putting up with those intolerable conditions for an entire year. I felt bad after every shift. Were it not for my new job, and all the fun I'm having there, well it could reduce a Duchess to tears.
Which, truth to tell, did happen last week. I have alluded to the fact that I'm seeing a counselor. I have been for about six weeks. Every Tuesday. As you saw from the previous posts I was in a pretty bad place. And while much improved, last Tuesday found me decidedly shaky. I debated with myself about showing up for counseling at all. Which is hilarious and typical of me. When I need help, I run from the very people trained to help me. Nothing in my troubles can't be cured by curling up with a cold vodka bottle. Which is how I found myself sobbing uncontrollably as I confessed my fear of being crazy. As I explained I had been in the clutches of a depression I was afraid I would never find my way back from. I tried to re-create in words the chaos that my thought process had become. I did a pretty good job of it too. She immediately scheduled me for a psych evaluation. After re-assuring me that she did not, in fact, think I was crazy. I found a little comfort in that.
Do I need to even tell you I skipped the psych eval? I know! But really, after spending 45 minutes sobbing like a hysterical school girl, the prospect of going through it again, this time with a total stranger, left me less than thrilled. So I skipped it. I'm gay. It's our way ...
I am following through with my next session today. Some good did come out of my breakdown last week. I was able to articulate many of the things that have fueled the depression. Getting older and being alone chief among them. I also have a Dr.'s appointment the following afternoon. I'll be getting the first test results since going on the meds. I intend to discuss my depression with him as well. Don't misunderstand, I'm not curled up in the dark watching infomercials. I work, I sleep. But my appetite is off. I have absolutely no sex drive. I just feel ...... blah. Except when I'm at work. And the current bartender I have a little crush on takes his pants off and works in a skimpy pair of undies. Then I feel really good.
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