I’m up, I’m down, I’m more down, I’m bipolar.
Because a certain person thought I was ADDing all over the place my psychiatrist moved my Zoloft, a top notch anti-depressant, from every second day to every third. By the time I get to day three I am miserable and can’t do anything without being severely depressed and anxious. I really want to die. I make plans for my family, figure out who will take Small to school and figure out how things would go overall without me. It’s wretched and it hurts. It makes me sad but I have the overwhelming feeling it is all unavoidable. Right now, I am sitting in front of the computer and I don’t have all these feelings. My husband tries to remind me it’s all chemical. I can’t believe him in the throes of it. I see the doctor tomorrow and hopefully things will get straightened out. Yesterday and the day before I was ready to go to the hospital. Part of it was the novelty – I’ve never been to St. Joseph’s. But a bigger part of me was my need to take a break from this life and have other people take care of me. Having the dog really, really helped, but we’re committed to cleansing our debt before we add another family member.
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I dyed my hair again. I had been wearing it this popsicle orange color that I loved, but a sweet, fashion conscious friend convinced me to go less artificial. I thought, why not, and got a lovely auburn color. We decided we wanted it a little darker, so we added 1/4 of this caramel brown.
My hair turned a very dark brown with a purple gloss over it.
Not what I wanted. I am going to get it fixed, taking it back to my original dark brown with auburn hints, at least for a while. Hopefully this can happen inexpensively. I would guess, though, not.