Depression is expensive

Describing my past week or so to the therapist…

Therapist: “So…do me a favor and keep an eye on that, because that could be depression creeping back in.”

Me: “Um, nope. No, it’s not, because I JUST paid $85 to see the nice lady with the meds, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m paying it again before my next appointment.”

Time to see if I can “cheap” my way out of a mood disorder!

(I am not doing things I’m supposed to be doing, so I will endeavor to do those things. If it doesn’t help I will certainly go see the nice lady.)

Maybe I can downgrade to a Stage 4 Clinger…

Therapist: “So, this thing where you’re calling yourself stupid, and clingy, and crazy where’s that coming from?”

Me: “I don’t know, I feel like I was pressuring him. He has anxiety and depression, too, and I know how that feels, to have someone demanding your time, another THING you have to keep up with. Honestly, I’m kinda psyched to have Sundays to myself again, so I get where he’s coming from.”

Therapist: “OK, I get that. But from everything you’ve told me  and obviously I’m your Person, so I’m biased  this sounds like it’s him, not you. Basically the only thing you asked him for was more sex. Maybe you could’ve been more direct about saying it, but that doesn’t make it clingy, or crazy, or stupid. Putting aside the sexual component, if you had a friend and communication with them dropped off like it did here, would you be concerned and check in with them?”

Me: “Yes.”

Therapist: “That’s not crazy. It’s caring about a human being.”

I LOVE paying people to tell me I’m right.

She told me it was fine to send him an email I’ve written offering a friendship, but the longer I don’t hear from him after the last message I sent, the less interest I have in that idea. I’m not that bad at taking a hint.

Therapeutic baked goods

My therapist told me to eat carbs, including my beloved corn muffins if that’s what I want.

I’m alternating between “BOOM! MUFFIN SCIENCE, MOTHERFUCKERS!” and “I need a new therapist.”