So, things are looking up. I talked to my doctor yesterday and managed to convince her to let me try to fight my way through my impending relapse. She said to me, "Okay so, you want to do it the hard way?"
Yes, I do. I need to know I have it in me to function when shit gets a little intense. I bought myself six weeks with the promise to really work at the CBT stuff and that I would call her or my therapist if I felt like I just couldn't cope. It is absolutely reasonable and I am happy that I have professionals around me who will allow me to do what I need to do in order to get through this and get the big growth payoff I am hoping for.
From the start I've been reframing how I look at my PPD, having been "pretty fucked up" most of my life it is a bit of a blessing to get the resources and the opportunity to turn it around.
That said, I've really been feeling pretty fucked up lately. Not the incapacitating, suicidal bad thoughts, just the garden variety "man I suck," kind.
Eep, Rigby is getting loud enough to get us some mighty unfriendly stares here at the library. I need to get out of here before she figures out how to get the lid off the Sharpie I just handed her.
I'm feeling on the cusp of something again, and I am excited. Michelle, if you're reading this - your swap is coming, I promise!!!!