Fuck Tuesdays ~ Sep 1, 10:12 AM
Seriously. I’m sure it’s gorgeous outside and I have no motivation to go see it because my day is bisected by therapy, with a new therapist who is remarkably close to my age. And wears stupid clothing. Whatever, I’m being judgmental because I hate getting to know a new therapist. And I miss my old therapist.
I never got my cry before leaving Philly, and I wanted that. Desperately. My thought was that if I had the freak out during the stress of packing I could avoid all this moodiness when I got up here.
Everyone has been brilliant and helpful and sweet and friendly and I couldn’t want a better welcome or a nicer living situation.
But my meds are going through an adjustment, by which I mean I am not on any psych meds and that’s not really what this is, so much as the natural low that follows the manic like high of moving and packing and all that.
So this is normal.
But to a huge extent depression is pointless when you aren’t suicidal. If I’m not going to kill myself, then I’m just going to be depressed until I’m not anymore. So why not try to speed this whole thing along as much as possible.
I have gone back to writing every morning which will help in the long run. Right now I’m only doing prompts and exercises, but I can’t go online until I’ve hit 1,000 words, which takes me about an hour and I’m hoping by next week I will have gotten into the habit of writing enough that I’ll be able to go and work on actual stories. Currently I’m just expelling a lot of the crap that comes from not writing enough. There are a few pieces that need rewrites and that might be a good project for next week.
Oh and last night was the first night of class. I found the class and made it through. It’s 18th Century and it’s drenched in history so it’ll be a different thing for me, which can be a very good thing if I let it be.
Okay I’m feeling better, partially due to the mainlining of caffeine. Now to plan my day.
