Ok, so last month I made myself an appointment at the clinic since we STILL don't have health insurance, and I need medication. Plus, I'd really love to know why I'm putting on weight faster than a squirrel in late fall.
Yesterday they called to confirm the appointment and (if you don't want more information about my lady parts than what is socially acceptable, skip to the next paragraph) check to see when my last PAP smear was. It's been a while. Not because I don't like them- not that I do like them because ew- and not because I haven't made appointments. It's because my uterus has decided it doesn't like to be poked at with a q-tip! Every freakin' time I've made an appointment for a doctor to poke at my lady parts, my period starts the day before I'm due to go in. For example, I wasn't planning on having to undergo a PAP at today's appointment, but when she called yesterday and I said it had been a while, she decided to go ahead and put that on the menu of items to be addressed. Yay! And I kid you not, 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, Whoosh! My uterus just does not like an audience.
So, the nurse gives me this questionnaire about depression and tells me to fill it out and the doctor will be there in a minute. So I do. And the questions are ridiculous. "Do you ever feel down, hopeless?" Well, yeah, who doesn't? "Do you feel like you're useless or have let your family down?" Yes, and it's totally justified. Even though I did try to vacuum this morning. It's not my fault that the vacuum doesn't actually suck, though. "Do you feel anxious or tired? Do you sleep a lot or not enough?" Again, I don't think I've ever met anyone that would answer no to any of those questions.
The doctor, a cute little petite lady, comes in, looks at my answers, and says, "Oh dear! Not doing so well today, huh?"
I looked at her, rather blankly, and said, "No, actually today's a pretty up day." I'm surprised she didn't have me committed right then and there. Thing is, I've lived like this my whole life. I'm used to it. If I was "happy," not only would everyone around me be freaked, I wouldn't know what to do about it. I'm cool with status quo in the emotion department.
I've been of the belief that there is something seriously wrong with my thyroid meds- weight gain, appetite, lethargic, etc. And even though, all the tests have come back that it's all good, I keep putting on weight and feeling like crap. This has been going on for about 2 years. Ridiculous.
Suddenly, while I'm explaining this to doctor lady, she says, "When did you start taking anti-depressants?"
Oh my god. I'm getting depressed because I've put on more weight than a retired pro ball player, feel like crap, and you're telling me it could be the freaking anti depressants?!?! So basically my choices are continue trying to break the record for heaviest land mammal, or cry in the shower wishing I hand the courage to die. Great. This is just fan-fucking-tastic!
And no, I haven't decided what I want to do about it. I want to come off the meds, but I know I can't just stop them. Blah.
This is why I want to buy a farm. I want to live somewhere a bit simpler where it's not so bloody complicated all the time!