Today should have been awesome. Last night, Jesus and I stayed in. I made us matzoh ball soup, we watched “Dead Like Me” on Netflix, we took a nice long bath with one of my Lush bath bombs, we had sex, we went to bed early, and we woke up before 11 without a hangover. Today, we went to brunch, went shopping at Urban Outfitters where I picked up a dress and a skirt, picked up some cleaning supplies, and cleaned my entire apartment from top to bottom. I even bought purple tulips for myself, to complete the look of my clean, beautiful apartment (I’m still missing a bed frame and a coffee table to really complete it. Once I possess those, I promise I’ll post pictures).
So why is it that I still feel empty and sad? Why is it that I cried the second Jesus left today? Why is it that I’m in a city I love, dating the love of my life, living in an adorable apartment, and hanging out with some of the best friends I’ve ever had and I’m still sad? Because I suffer from recurrent depression, that’s why. I went off my meds when I moved to Boston, stupidly forgetting that I always feel better when I initially relocate, only to have the Depression Demon creep back up on me when I least expect it.
All of those medical issues I’ve been having? Well, my multiple blood tests all came back fine. There is nothing physically wrong with me. And then the other day, I cried because I didn’t know what I wanted to eat for dinner, and it hit me. I’m fucking depressed. The fatigue, the loss of sex drive, the increase in drinking and drug use… it all makes sense. And so, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll probably have to remain on the anti-depressants, and not go off them when I start to feel better.
I refilled my prescription and started the meds again this week. Now I just have to wait for them to start working, because I’m sick of crying over spilled milk.