depression

Pride

Have you ever sat at home detailing everything that you need to tell the doctor about your illness to ensure that they have the perfect picture? Do you sometimes get there and ….

I can’t let my doctor know the entirety of where I am and how I am doing. It seems self deprecating. I am good. If my doctor doesn’t believe that, how can I?

So I tell my doctor stories that are almost truths. My doctor makes me almost better. Everyone wins. You don’t have a crazy son, brother, friend,  colleague. I get by.

Pride will be the downfall of human kind. Empathy is gone and intelligent discourse went the way of the dinosaurs. With that said, I’m past my 140 characters.

depression, Sleep

Sleep

Sleep is a two-headed monster for me. If I don’t get enough sleep, I get irritable and my anxiety kicks up a notch; however, if I get too much sleep, my depression often tries to keep me under the blankets.

I typically aim for about 8 hours a night and hope for at least 7 hours. I recently purchased a new pillow that is fantastic and has been helping me to stay asleep through the night. I have been debating on taking melanin, but I just don’t like taking pills if I don’t have to (which is why it took 20+ years for me to finally get on antidepressants again)

We do have a sound machine (white noise) during the cooler months. When it is hot out, we have the window unit air conditioner. Those also help. I even have the fabulous eye mask to sleep with so Jason doesn’t wake me up with his phone light.