I went to the doctor this afternoon to discuss the feelings of severe depression I've been facing lately. It's been so hard for me to focus or even function at times.
It was amazing to me the shame I felt going there, having the nurse say "So, you're here to see the doctor about depression?" I just felt all coiled up inside.
But my doctor is a really good guy, someone who it is easy to work with and talk with. He was very encouraging and thankfully is willing to pursue a little more aggressive regime of meds than previous doctors who were afraid of potential drug interactions with some other meds I take. He also gave me the name of a therapist and asked me to make sure I walk every day. I walked out of there feeling just a little glimmer of hope and a willingness to try again. I haven't felt much like trying lately.
As he asked me the questions required to make a diagnosis, I began to cry. I haven't cried in a long, long time ... not that kind of cry at least. I used to cry a lot ... all the time ... at everything. And tears do still fall down my cheeks now and then, from words that sting or things that make me sad. But crying to feel the pain inside ... it hasn't happened in a long time. I think I felt most relieved that I could still feel something, that I wasn't completely dead inside.
My next post will be about losing my religion
2 months ago