One thing that I agreed to yesterday during my appointment with my psychiatrist is that I will get outside 15 minutes per day. At the time, I thought it would be easy. But today, I just flat did not want to. I don't feel as sad today, or as hopeless. But my energy has not returned. I texted a friend that I didn't feel like starting my outside assignment today. My friend answered, "Good you ate lunch. Now do outside." Okay, fine.
So, friends, I am writing this article outside. I'm actually dictating it on my phone. I have to say, the sun feels nice. There is a little bit of a breeze, and it certainly feels like fall is just around the corner.
I start today on higher doses of two of my medications. Tomorrow, I also seeing my therapist. I am doing all the right things to take care of myself, and I am starting to feel the results.
One thing that's bothering me right now is I feel like I'm not writing very well. My thoughts are kind of all over the place, and I have trouble thinking of words. I went back and read what I posted yesterday, and was mortified. I don't know if anyone else sees it, but I do. I could have done so much better. I'm leaving it there, and leaving it the way it is because it's all part of my depression. It's all part of staying honest. My depression hates it when it doesn't have complete control. I'm okay with that.