I have changes coming up. Loosing the last of my teeth and getting dentures for one. getting a cpap—at least—or maybe even a vpap—I may have to get an implant to remind my hind brain it’s necesssary for me to breathe—among them. But what’s really got me stressed is having to change my antidepressant.
As far as I can see the Prozac really isn’t doing the job any more. So I get to talk with my shrink about an alternative, and that may mean a stay in a crisis house. Such fun
To make matters even more fun, I can’t use stairs with the easeI once did. A bad knee is no fun, and mine makes using more than a few steps at a time a hugehassle. So that limits me to just a few crisis houses.
Then there is the possibility the staff attitude towards their patients still stinks on ice. I mean it’s been a while since I last stayed at one, but the hostility I got from certain parties put me off getting help there. I’ve got news for the rabidly politically correct, you’re not there to abuse those of us in crisis, but to help us get our shit together.
In good news, there may be new medications that will do a better job than Prozac at the moment.
In other news, I need to see people about a safer domicile. And one more affordable than what I’ve got now. And I need to organize my thoughts, so this post is coming to a premature end. But before I go I shall present to you a plea for donations. Just click on the button below and enter any amount you wish. And please note that for every dollar you send my way PayPal gets a cut to help them with their bills. It costs money to run PayPal, after all.
Anyway, after that snark it’s time for me to go. I hope everything is going well with you, and if something’s going south on you it’s something very small and very temporary.