The Morbs

I’m used to being sad. I sprinkle melancholia on fucking everything. That’s just my baseline personality. I told my primary doctor that yesterday and he said, like Eeyore?

Yes, doctor, you betcha.

What I cannot deal with is having a nasty case of the morbs. (Short for morbid.)

Okay, fine…you win, dude.

The quick flashes of icky thoughts have stopped. The doomed feeling has lessened to a doable level, I’m not thinking of hurting myself and I’m mostly back to my usual downcast persona. I know how fucked up that must sound, that I’m actually happy to be unhappy. Let me just explain that I’ll take that shit over feeling like I did just a week ago.

No more add-on psych medications for me. No way. Nope.

That’s gonna be a hard no, thanks.

I will not…and I swear it! Nothing good ever comes when I take an anti-psychotic.

The next antidepressant will be Lexapro or at least that’s the one that I think I’d like to give a whirl. We’ll see what the new shrink says but I am in charge now. I tell them what I want to do.

I know, I sound like such a hard ass, don’t I?

Anyway, so much for me trying to write each day in May. At least I wanted to. But the month is just starting!

I need to get through this Sunday first and then May 20th. Get ready to see photos and memories of my mother. If she were still here, she’d be super happy that my sugar has gone down quite a bit and that my blood pressure is 125/75.

Stay safe, you guys! Thanks for reading.

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