You know how sometimes you talk to your psychiatrist about developing a plan to wean off your anti-depressants but then you find yourself making another appointment to talk about how that’s not a good idea? And it’s because you’re getting mad at stupid things too often and you find yourself crying over silly things enough that you’re developing an intimate relationship with soggy Kleenex? When that happens, instead of a plan to decrease your dosage you come out with a prescription for a new medication to add on top of your existing anti-depressant.
Or at least that’s what happened to me.
I am…disheartened about this. I’m also terrified to start a new medication (and, admittedly, a bit stubborn because I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO) so I’ve had it for two days and haven’t managed to actually take it yet. Maybe tonight.
I don’t really know what else to say about this yet, but I wrote a post on my Yummy Mummy Club blog that was meant to be poignant but ended up just being sad, so I feel like I need to put this out there.
Sometimes there are just too many tears at bedtime. (And other times too. But hopefully not for long.)
