Here's what happened

I still have those “why the fuck do I get out of bed” days every once in a while, but I always get up.

When I was on anti-depressants two summers ago, I researched what they were supposed to do and how long you should take them. I decided to take myself off of them after about three months because I felt that they had done their job. I think my body believed that they were working, but that my mind knew that it was just a little pill. And if just swallowing a little pill could make a difference, then making a sincere effort could make a bigger difference.

I was taking Lexapro and having a weekly talk session with a psychiatrist.
She didn’t last the summer either (too expensive), but I definitely improved.

I realize now, two years later, that, in some way, my body/mind has learned to adjust itself. The lows are never so low, and the highs are just fine. If I catch myself feeling low, I’m able to analyze the whole picture better than before and realize that things are really OK.

JB and I spent the holiday weekend in New Orleans. We ate great, lay by the pool, and hit our favorite bar, the Bourbon Pub, every evening. On the third night, we met this guy Eli, from Dallas. Um. He was a real cutie. And VERY impressive. We ended up skinny dipping around two that morning. (We stay at this really small hotel and never run into any other guests).

One of my fantasies came true, and it was really nice.