Big scary black dog

i didn't include the word "MAD" in the title of this blog without reason. Given my history of clinical depression, and the increasingly surreal feeling of my life, "mad" is an apt descriptor for me.

Lately the big black dog of depression has been circling. In fact, it has been for most of the past year or two. Add to that the skyrocketing stress levels in my admittedly toxic workplace, and it results in a week like last week. Or the week before. The weekends have witnessed me shell-shocked, sick, and all too tired to do much of anything other than sleep.

Although i've not admitted it to anyone until just recently, in addition to my old friend depression, there have been all-too-frequent instances of my heart feeling like it was going to beat its way right out of my chest. Often this is accompanied by shortness of breath. Alarming though that all may sound, it took me a few weeks to get up the gumption to call my doctor for an exam appointment.

i see the Doc tomorrow morning. It won't be surprising if he tells me i'm having anxiety attacks and prescribes some kind of antidepressant. i've been on them before, and though i don't like them and prefer not to take them, i probably wouldn't be here today if i couldn't recognize when their use is needed.

So we'll see what the Doc says tomorrow. Today i actually feel pretty good just knowing that i've started to take the steps to get the help i need.

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