Work work work
My doctor’s even say I work too much. I only do it, because I have to pay bills, save money to move or do what I want, and eat. I don’t qualify for food stamps or any government assistance; at one point I was making only $100 too much to qualify and I was the only one working. The days I try taking for myself I feel guilty and end up taking extra shifts.
Why do this to ourselves?
Shouldn’t overall health matter? I work sick and hurt and exhausted and beat down. I work hours on end and barely scrap by.
Some days I envy people with WIC and food stamps, because they have that to feed themselves, others days I want to slap them, because I see them buying shit food like soda, candy and other sweets.
Dark is my heart right now.
The last time I was on my doctor started me on Cymbalta, to help combat my depression and maybe my joint pain. I ended up almost passing out at work a couple times due to the medication. After talking with my counselor and doctor I gave the ok to try Prozac. After three weeks on 20mg a day plus extra vitamin D, it was helping. With it I wasn’t so angry or sad at myself or the world; I was working on bettering myself. I had even started going back to the gym. Then about a week ago I started feeling down. Meaning, though I was doing everything good for me I was feeling shittier every day. It kept getting worse and on a Thursday night, after a long day I wanted to end it and didn’t feel bad like I normally would of I had thoughts of suicide. I couldn’t stop crying and wasn’t able to get across anything to my boyfriend who was trying to help. It started with some relaxers, than drowsy sick meds, and last of all several sleep aids I take normally. I hadn’t taken a lethal dose thanks to my boyfriend, but I did want to end it all that night. The next morning I woke up feeling like shit and listened to a voicemail from my father telling me how my grandmother’s sister, my grate aunt, had passed away in the early morning. I called in and took the day to recoup and spend time with a cousin in town. Spending time with her helped and I opened up to her a bit, but knew I had to do something about my medication.
Today was the first day I took a 40mg dose of the Prozac. If in a week it doesn’t help I’ll try a new deug. Maybe talk to my counselor about anxiety or bipolar meds, cause who knows. I don’t want to be a part of the high rate of bloggers who stop writing, so please be patient if you watch for my blogs. I’m just tired.