I’ve had so many words just itching to escape through my fingertips recently, but no time to let them out. There’s always something else that is or should be more important–a chore, a deadline, work, the cat wanting attention, etc. These are all good things, yes, but now I have time to write!
At the end of 2016, I didn’t think any year could be worse than that one had been. Then 2017 showed up and, for most of the year, proved that things can almost always be worse.
I’ve been on my new antidepressant for about six weeks, and things are going really well on that front. I feel happier and have a little more energy than I did, which makes a lot of things a little easier.
I haven’t had the time or energy to even think about blogging lately. Life has been a blur of work to home to work to home to work, and most of the time I’ve been home has been spent sleeping or otherwise being sluggish.
I haven’t blogged lately, or even really thought about blogging much–exhausted, apathetic, busy, stressed, depressed, out of words. There are dozens of words and phrases that could describe my life and my state of mind lately, and most of them are not good.
2016, for me, was in many ways both the best and worst year of my life so far. The highs were incredible; the lows, excruciating. I’m trying to approach 2017 as a totally fresh start despite the fact that it’s not. Every day, week, month, and year is a continuation of the last one–and I know just enough to understand that the trials of the recent past can help me create a better future.
Honestly, to some extent, my first therapy session felt like a waste of time, at least on the surface. I arrived at 8:30 for a 9 am appointment, and due to some kind of computer issue/the office in general just being backed up, I didn’t meet my therapist, Miss Mary, until after 10. Once I was in her office, I started to feel better about my appointment, because in the waiting room I was thinking “why did I let Dallas talk me into this?”