So it is clear to me that I have not miraculously gotten over my Depression. And that anxiety plays a larger part in it than I originally thought.
I guess I am agreeing with myself: that before I was just too fatigued to be anxious. And now that I have the energy for it I can sure do a bang-up job.
And I am pretty sure that more medication or different medication is not what is necessary to aid in the anxiety part. Because the meds do a fine job when things are at an even keel.
It's just when there is any kind of storm. Any squabbling children, or angry adults, or stress or any kind... then I can fairly easily slip into inappropriately low emotional state.
Weeping at a retail store and assuming I have been abandoned due to loss of a set of keys is not where I want to be. Not the preferred end state.
Oh yeah, I forget that there doesn't get to be an end state. Until the end. And then presumably whoever is right about what happens when we're gone, I won't have to worry about Depression anymore.
I have been doing a better job of modeling taking a breath before I say things when I am really super mad. And my children are picking up on that, which is nice. I feel like I am turning into a Scandinavian-Minnesotan, though. The kind you can tell is angry because they are breathing loud.
It never occurred to me that the loud breathing was maybe not supposed to be telegraphing the anger, but helping to diffuse the anger so they were capable of human speech.
Grateful Crap: libraries. I got a bunch of stuff on simplifying and clutter management and photography and my children checked out the remainder of the East Lake Library (sorry Southeast Minneapolis, we will return them soon).
took meds (150mg sertraline, 300mg bupropion)
read for pleasure while the whole family was reading for pleasure
opened up the house and let in fresh (if very pollen-filled) air
Quaker, teacher, parent,