I know it’s probably not true, but I swear everything would feel easier if it would just stop snowing.  This is the South!  I’m not supposed to be learning how to drive in terrible winter conditions here.  UGH.  One could easily argue that my desire to stay in bed isn’t anxiety, depression or related to my problems at all, but simply that it’s too gross to go outside.  Spring better come seriously early this year.

On the other hand my yard was filled with probably a thousand birds this morning, fluttering, hopping and talking and singing about the snow.  Rushing from branch to branch to make sure everyone knew about the snow.  If it hadn’t snowed I wouldn’t have been able to stand in the grim, slim sunrise light and watch them fill the dead trees like living leaves.  Thousands and thousands more swirled in huge clouds on the edge of downtown right before I got on the freeway this morning too.  I took the time in the freezing cold this morning just to watch the birds and breathe and remember that “it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.”

Lexapro dose gets reduced to a quarter tonight.  Still lethargic and fatigued, still feeling the intestinal effects of it, though those things are all reduced since the last dosage reduction.  After last night’s crying jag I spent a while wondering if I shouldn’t just ask my doctor for another round of yet another drug, but I think I am going to wait a while.  I have terrible PMS right now.  It seems to be getting worse with each passing year (my mother told me this happened in her late 30s too).  My period only comes about every 38-40 days now but it comes with about 7 days of pretty rough emotional stuff.  Like my hormones just destroy my ability to manage my emotional reactions to things. So given that, I think I am going to stick with my plan of no SSRIs for a little bit.  If I’m still feeling like I did last night after I stop bleeding (if it ever starts, argh!) then I’ll reconsider this.  Too many factors right now to make an informed decision.

I just remembered that I dreamt about Oak again last night.  In it he’d given me a list of very specific things that needed to be packed in a certain sized bag.  I spent most of the dream trying to find those things and figure out how they fit together.  Finally Oak showed up with a similar bag and we set off into the snow.  It was clear we were going somewhere really, really far away and maybe walking?  We stopped at a pub and there was some really famous person about to play there, to me, Oak and about six other people.  He was saying that he loved her music but wasn’t sure why she’d do that to her hair. That’s when I woke up.  Perhaps brought on by this text exchange with Oak right before bed:

Oak: How are you doing?
Me: I feel burnt out, broke down and wiped out.
Oak: I know that feeling.
Me: I’m sorry you do. No one should ever feel like this.
Oak: It comes from not knowing your place in the world.

Yes, indeed, man, it surely does. But how does one start finding their place they already feel this worn down?

HAHAHAHAHA! A bit too much indeed.

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