Things did not go so well today.
I’m exhausted. I know that I am exhausted, because I don’t generally dissolve into tears in the ladies changing room before a workout. I was just sitting there on the floor, contemplating my dobok, thinking that I was just too fucking tired for this tonight.
I did it anyway though, and I’m feeling bad about tonights effort because I know I didn’t give it my all. My ankle hurt, so I didn’t do a lot of the running, I had no energy so I didn’t work as hard as I’d like to, and my attitude just plain sucked.
And guys? My view is that your outcomes in life are heavily influenced by your attitude.
It did not help that I had a doctors appointment this afternoon. [TMI warning. Feel free to skip a paragraph] I had to find myself a new doctor to deal with the fact that it has been *ahem* that time of the month for 19 days now.
19 days is a long freaking time. I’m exhausted. Also potentially anemic. I need a break.
Dr Lady has prescribed something that should give me a fortnights respite from it. Probably. Thankfully it’s also going to wildly alter my hormone levels while it does this. (Yes. That is sarcasm. I’m not thankful or happy about this at all. I’d very much like for my body to remain on as even-a-keel as possible given all the mood variables I deal with on a day-to-day basis anyway.)
Dr Lady would also like me to go for blood tests some time soon. I hate blood tests. For one, there’s all that blood, and they take so freaking much of it. And also? I hate the feeling afterwards – like my veins are collapsing and empty, and my arm is heavier than it should be.
(I am a nurses worst nightmare – high maintenance, irrational, slightly paranoid, and fainty.)
Anyway. I’m also not sure that the doctor I saw today is the doctor for me. I mean, she’s certainly competent, because they all are, but she likened depression to PMS. I kind of had to tell her that Dr Lady? It’s not even in the same ballpark. Depression is DEPRESSION. PMS is bloaty irritability with a side of sore boobs.
I also took the opportunity to tell her that I’d like to increase my dosage on my anti-depressant. She told me to go ahead and do it. She did not ask why. She didn’t talk to me about how my experience with the medication is going. She didn’t even talk about safe ways to go about increasing my dosage – or even amounts – until I asked.
I guess my biggest issue with the whole thing is that I really don’t feel like she was making the effort to hear what I was saying to her regarding my mental health. I think it’s downright dangerous for a medical professional to be so blasé about depression. I mean, she didn’t even ask the self harm questions that my old doctor asked every single time I visited.
(Just to clear the air, I have not ever considered self harming, but it’s just a responsible thing for a doctor/councillor to ask about when they’re dealing with someone under the age of 30 with depression, on the kind of medication I’m on.)
So anyway. After all this I had to sit down and take a good look at my blog to make sure that I’m not violating the social media policy for TKD. I’m pretty sure I’m not. Even so I think I’m going to have to be pretty careful from now on – I don’t want to be inadvertently acting in a disrespectful way over here on Leaf Probably. I mean, I know I’m speaking on a personal level about my experiences with the Taekwon Do – often with a healthy dose of humor, and a little bit of self depreciation and sarcasm – but I wouldn’t ever want that to be misconstrued by a third party as me being deliberately cheeky.
Sometimes it’s probably a fine line – if you ever think I’m walking a little close to it you should definitely let me know!
And finally, after all this, I had a minor anxious freak out about money. With me no longer at university, and still working part-time, things will be tight in the Leaf Probably coffers for a while. I’ll be OK, but the sooner I find alternate , or supplementing employment, the better.
There’s nothing that stresses me out more than wondering if I’m going to be able to pay my rent.
Like I said, the situation is not dire, it’s just that when I’m tired and I’m stressed, everything seems so very much more dramatically awful than it actually is. I’m sure after a good nights sleep I’ll be fine.
On the bus tonight, though, I was not fine. I was sitting there with my stupid throbbing ankle, and my bag full of MORE medication aimed at bringing my defective body and mind back into line. I was TIRED. I had to go grocery shopping, and I wasn’t sure whether I had enough money for food and travel next week.
I just about broke down.
For the second time today. (Oh boy I love crying in public places.)
It took me most of the 45 minute bus-ride to get myself into a less volatile state, and then I went grocery shopping. Surprisingly it helped. I guess it just took a little of the pressure off – knowing that at least I’ve sorted out my food budget for the next two weeks, and my laundry will all be taken care of in half an hour, and I’ve planned tomorrow, and put together my bag so that all I need to do is pick it up and walk out the door… That all helps.
(Organisation really is key when it comes to combatting self destructiveness when I’m at my most anxious.)
I guess that means I’m getting better at finding ways to undermine the anxiety that still sneaks up on me when I’m feeling vulnerable – and that makes it one very good thing that I’ve learnt about myself today.
Things are looking up already.