February came and went, but the sads never showed their face.
Oh I had my moments but they were all life moments. Easily enough explained and dealt with. Not reasons to pop a pill.
So 2 weeks ago when it came time to refill my script for the pills that beat the sads that never showed, I asked if we could skip that part of the appointment. We had talked along of me going off meds once I was in the clear. Why wait? I was/am doing tremendous. So, I went off meds.
This week I have:
Started my menstrual cycle, which always makes for wholesome hormonal goodness.
Went off caffeine cold turkey.
Gone to put on a skirt that fit me at 9-months pregnant but apparently doesn’t fit me now. This week anyways.
Oh hey, we may have found a house if everything goes as planned. Though, of course, moving is fun. Plus, 30 year mortgage is a bit of a weight. Good, but still heavy.
Had to inform my Grandmother that her son will be homeless in 2 months.
Had my father assault my husband.
Been made to feel numerous times, by people I can trust, that I’m not good enough and/or I can’t do anything right.
Made the first car payment.
Realized exactly how fun the next year of car payments will be.
Destroyed my left ankle. 6 days and it’s still fucked.
Left Band Back Together. Not because it’s what I’ve wanted to do but because it’s what I had to do. Drama free aside from broken heart(s).
Found out that a good friend who is deeply cared about by the whole family has Crohn’s disease. Which isn’t fatal, usually. As long as you stick to a diet.
Had to search every random corner of my life for pads because my period started 4 days sooner than it should have which means I didn’t make it to the paycheck.
Realized that despite me being sterile now, I have 30ish more years of buying tampons and pads so that I can go through a process that is pointless.
So this week… This week it looks like, based on my mood, that maybe I shouldn’t have gone off my meds. However I’m not sure how any of the above can be fixed by me taking a pill. (Some of it could be fixed by someone else who shall remain nameless but apparently has had a known diagnosis of exactly what I figured for years now but doesn’t choose to see it as a problem…) Fine. Maybe it could help me cope? But when you aren’t searching and aiming for my buttons/last nerve, I’m coping pretty well. Even if that means crashing into bed at 7PM. But then, sometimes that sleep can be very healing. When following a day as a functioning working adult.