Poop is my favorite thing to say, just ask my friend L

So I have been thinking about all these great posts I'd be writing, and how clever they would be, and how maybe people would actually read what I had to say. But then I just couldn't bring myself to write anything. I started several drafts which I promptly deleted. I even deleted the first three posts I ever made on this blog. I just haven't been feeling up to much these days, although the fluoxetine helps me enough that I can get up in the morning and go through the motions. I get up with my daughter, change her, dress her, turn on PBS Kids and park her in front of the boob-tube while I make her oatmeal with raisins and my extra strong cup of coffee. Then I have to place each raisin on top of a little mound of oatmeal and trick her into eating it. When left alone, she will only eat the raisins. Then the day really starts and I have to go to work and pretend to do something on my computer other than reading other people's blogs. But its getting harder and harder. The doctor I saw today gave me a refill for fluoxetine and added lorazepam to the mix because I have been so anxious lately. And it isn't that I am no happy. I am. I adore my daughter, I could just munch on her cheeks all day if she let me. And my husband has been doing better. But we are still so broke that I have to pick and choose which bills to pay each month and just pretend that all those other bills are not there. And I hate being a slave to money, worrying about money, needing money, wanting it, and not having it. Crap. This IS depressing!

The doctor also said I need talk therapy because it would help me since I am "good at talking" and referred me to a clinic that does sliding scale. So I look forward to that. I know it's helpful, I just really dread having to talk about feelings and things. It's such a task, such a chore, and I am such a good little patient that I will talk and talk until I am dry inside. No more to say. No energy to say anything more. But I will call and go in because my daughter deserves a happier mom, not just a go through the motions mom. I told the doctor I felt like I wasn't living my life but watching it happen, from the outside looking in. It is not a pretty feeling.

That is all for now. I hope to post my opinion on the last book I read soon. Stay tuned.