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Recently, I have been experiencing a daily cycle of my emotions.

Assuming that I am not mired in complete and utter depression, I wake up in the morning, doing fairly well.  Today was actually exceptional as I got out to the grocery store.  I actually like grocery shopping.  It’s the only shopping I do like in fact.  I clip coupons.  Vigorously.  Ok, not as vigorously as those ladies on the tv shows, but enough to make a 50% dent in our grocery bills.  As of right now it’s my only financial contribution to our household, so it makes me feel useful and gives me some purpose. The major depression I have been going through has made this whole process much more difficult, but today’s trip felt really good.  Of course, I spent the whole time wondering if this was a baseline type of enjoyment or was I ramping into hypomania.

I came home, managed to get it all put away and even managed to clean off my desk and pay a couple bills…all medical bills of course.

But, here I am again, getting to the middle of the afternoon and I feel the anxiety begin to rise.  My teeth are clenching.  The elephant has taken up his usual perch on my chest and my breathing is becoming labored.  I’m chewing the inside of my cheek.  My arms and hands are starting to tingle.  My shoulders are tensing up and the headache is still dull, but it’s there.  I’m getting light-headed.

Will I fall victim to depression this afternoon, yet again?  Or maybe the anxiety will decide it can march across my afternoon solo today.

There is no reason for my day to take this turn.  None.

I don’t get it.

This pattern has been going on for awhile now.  I don’t understand it.

I really hate it.

Tomorrow I have my therapy and pdoc appointments.  Since I discontinued the zyprexa poison on Friday, my symptoms have finally been clearing up, although I still have some swelling in my ankles.  I will sit on pdoc’s couch like a dutiful patient and watch her struggle to figure out what to do with me.

For now, I guess I’ll go get an ativan.

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