Therapy equals IHOP. More specifically, breakfast food. I’m a child of the ‘80s; my comfort food is cheap, processed, North American food. When I feel down, I want mac and cheese, cream of mushroom soup, pancakes and breakfast meat. Today that was strawberry banana pancakes with eggs, hashbrowns, and sausage.
My schedule as it is, I do therapy or doctor appointments in the morning, go out for late breakfast, then go to work in the afternoon. Today, I met with a psychiatrist for the first time. It was really good.
After eight months on Effexor, with sporadic, but never long-lasting results, I’m trying something new. This is exactly what I wanted out of this meeting. A new medication plan, a little more hope. I knew this would take time. I don’t think I understood how frustrating the interim would be.
Always so close to something like relief. Still so far from feeling balanced. But, still, hope. That’s the best thing to take into the new year.