And so it begins… again.
I’m starting therapy again tomorrow.
My doctor started me on Prozac and the side effects were driving me crazy. I was emailing her constantly. Then, one night, after sitting in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes, our friend lectured me on how this wasn’t the way to live and how I needed to tell my doctor what was going on and go back to therapy.
I listened. I told my doctor. She gave me a number to call. The appointment was made last week. I’ve filled out the paperwork that came in the mail.
I’m terrified… of what this means, of what happens if I quit again, of all of it.
But I’m also frustrated. I’m tired and have no energy. I can barely get through my workouts. I can’t concentrate. Work is hard. Food stresses me out and I avoid situations where I have to eat when I can. I skip my lunch breaks. I’m rarely happy. I always want to vomit. I can’t live like this anymore.
It’s like you said over and over and over… “it’s up to me to choose what kind of life I lead.” I’m done with this one. I hope.
So, tomorrow it begins again. I guess it already has… <3
