End of depression

I feel like I've been stuck in unending depression for a while. 

I know that's not true, I've gotten manic, a day last week, a few days a few weeks before that... but depression kind of eats it all. 

I believe in the rapture.  I believe the rapture is imminent, which, from a very selfish standpoint, means the End of Depression is imminent.  I yearn for that day. 

In the meantime, God doesn't want me hiding.  I know that. 

I keep encountering people who are basically telling me I need to start handing out the candy with scripture booklets, again.  It's just hard to start. 

Ron and I were talking last night.  First, he ordered me 2 pizzas.  He wasn't hungry and has issues with pizza.  So he had me order 2. 

I guess I have breakfast and dinner for a while! 

You know, I told Ron - now that things are a little better - up to low income from poverty, I don't see me taking a lot of indulgences.  But I might just take a cab one way to the Dollar Store tomorrow. 

Ron promptly pulled out his wallet and said "Take it both ways". 

I went to bed, slept pretty well.  I had today off.  I woke up around 8.  I watched Supernatural for a while but I've seen the Leviathan episodes. 

I never did see how they get Dick Roman, though. 

I watched as much as I wanted, took a shower, did my God Time.  I forgot to take my antidepressant.  [facepalm]  Ron called me a cab, and a guy we know picked us up. 

I arrived at the dollar store in a Lincoln Town Car.  I found that pretty funny. 

I went in, looked around, found a few things but not 100% what I wanted.  I went to Arbys.  I forgot I had the pizza.  No way could I eat all those fries - the "medium" appeared to be "half the fryer basket".  I knew Ron would love to eat the cold leftovers - don't I sound awful?  But he loved them. 

I got him a roast beef with cheese and bacon.  He made a horrendous mess eating it but had a good time. 

I, in the meantime, went on to the next dollar store.  I love that about Houston - within walking distance, even depressed. 

I went in and found some interesting things, a few things I needed and some I didn't but got anyway.  I stayed well within budget. 

I even got some "harvest" clings for work, when I take down the Halloween stuff. 

Finished, I went to Starbucks, and got a steamer with pumpkin spice in it.  Pretty good.  No, I don't want coffee.  I hate coffee.  I only like coffee if I'm very manic, or I have to test the coffee machine. 

Mood's finally improving.  That's the thing I hate about meds - and has got me thinking maybe I need to take all the mood stuff in the morning, not the evening. 

Ron called me a cab to come home.  A nice lady picked me up.  Her boyfriend was snoring in the front sleep, and she was playing gangster rap.  We discussed the "N" word and I mentioned how one grandmother disowned me for marrying Ron.  She gaped. 

We had a nice ride home, she got a good tip (they both did) and I dragged my bag in the house.  I sorted it out a little, took all my meds, and took a brief nap. 

Tomorrow is truck day.  I want to be well rested.  I also have the "Life's unpredictable, sleep when you can" perspective, especially since sleep deprivation really aggravates my illness.  [sigh] 

Being sick is a huge part of who I am.  I hate that.  I have to accommodate.  I have to work around.  I have to compromise.  I have to take toxic medications. 

I remember, though, years ago.  I kept having severe abdominal pains.  I had a lot of nausea too.  I would ask for medical help and they'd run some tests, then tell me "You're OK.  Go home". 

I knew I had something that wanted to kill me.  I knew I'd die if I didn't get get help.  Happily, God led me to the right people, who diagnosed me and got me medication. 

Doc finds me a delightful patient because I am very committed to taking my meds.  I mean, really.  I'm a huge, steaming mess on my medication.  Can you imagine me off?  [shudder]  It would end up as breaking news. 

Doc also finds me entertaining because I always seem to be manic for our visits. 

Torbie has just jumped into my lap and onto the computer table.  She's sitting on the mouse tray. 

I asked her if she had used her "Soft and Pretty" because she was. 

She moved in front of the screen and I can't see it.  Night.