Emotion

This has been a tough week already, and it's only Wednesday morning.  Monday was stressful as hell, and then my boss yelled at me.  Or rather, made me feel like I seriously effed up and would never be able to recover.  But I didn't cry and I plowed ahead and did my best to fix the problem.

Tuesday morning I had a gyno visit.  My tasks there were to talk to her about my (annoying) frequent peeing, and maybe ask her about my fertility.  I mentioned the peeing thing, and downplayed it, and she said drink less caffeine.  Ok, fine.  Then she asked if anything has changed healthwise, and I said "other than weight gain (voice cracking), no."  And I gulped.  And then I was on the verge of tears the rest of the visit.  She told me to go on Weight Watchers and exercise.  That the patients she has that have been most successful at losing and keeping it off did that.  She was trying to be helpful.  She told me her daughter and son have both gained weight and she's trying to help them figure out what to do.  Normally, my gyno is a bit of a cold fish, unreadable, but efficient, and always willing to answer questions.  This was a time she showed compassion, and I really appreciated it.  I didn't feel like she was telling me "you're a fat slob and a failure."  No, that voice was in MY head.  She acknowledged the issue and reminded me that it's all on me.  I'm the only one who can fix it.  And once again I started feeling hopeless.

I've noticed my emotions getting all out of whack again.  It started a couple months after I stopped the Prozac.  I probably shouldn't have stopped the Prozac, but I was convinced it was hurting my weight and I really don't want to be medicated all the time.  And that's where the exercise comes in.  I can manage it a little with exercise, but right now my depression and anxiety are making me put that off too.

Last night a friend of mine popped up in chat- we hadn't talked for several weeks.  I think I misread her and thought I was annoying her.  She said several times that she really missed me.  I told her I need therapy again (she referred me to probably the only therapist that actually helped me).  I need to get a new mental health card and just make a damn appointment. I'm still wondering if I might be bipolar 2. Or just nuts.  Either way, I need a professional to help me. I need to do something about this.  I can't just be on the verge of tears every waking minute.  It's exhausting, nevermind embarassing.