OMG! It's official (well, not REALLY). I am officially CRAZY. I just took every online test for depression and they all say the same thing "See a professional, Call 911 or go to the nearest ER." eeeek.
I called my GP today and scheduled an appointment--didn't tell Moonpie, just don't want to hear him tell me in so many words (or less) to "snap out of it". So, my sister will come watch the boys on Thursday. I made my appointment after watching court TV today (maybe it was a sign from GOD?--ummm...I'm joking here--sick sense of humor OK?) but the D. Laney case is being shown--she is the woman who killed 2 of her sons by bashing their heads in with a rock--and seriously injuring her 3rd son (who was 14 mo old at the time). It happened around here--in East Texas. I remember it well. And we used to treat the youngest at the doctors office where I worked (this was AFTER he was injured). I'm not saying that I would injure my kids--I've never felt like taking them--always just me--when I get that low. Which I am NOT that low right now--I just feel. Blah. Bad. Sad. Down. Unhappy. Tired. Lost. I feel like I am in slow motion. And when I *freak* out--it's like I can hear myself--and it disgust me--but I can't stop it. And I say to myself while it is happening: Who the hell IS this mad woman??!! What is her problem!? Get a grip BITCH!
But, anyway, watching her trial made me think about the state of MY mind. And how it needs help. And remember? That bottle of yellow pills is getting low. *This* doctor isn't who prescribed my meds. That was my OB back in 2002. While I was PG with Carson. Since then I have been on and then off and then on again and then OFF again. When we lived near Galveston I got a RX for the 50mg (BIG bottle) then almost right away I got put on the 100mg. So I had both bottles. I have pretty much been putting myself on them for a month or 2 then off for awhile. I guess I start feeling better then think "Ah ha! I am cured! I feel better! I can stop taking them now!" Obviously that isn't the right way to do it. Duh.
So, I get to go the whole route with Dr "Don't Know". Ought to make his day memorable. His demeanor reminds me of That Munster Guy. You know--the Frankenstein one? He's real tall and big. And he shakes hands like a wet noodle. But he's really nice. And he's a good listener. And he always makes me feel like he cares about me. He will either help me or say "Gawd, girl. You are f*d up! Get to the Psych Ward PRONTO!" Either way. I'm getting help soon.
Either that or I'm getting DRUNK!