01 Apr 2017 - Garlic mustard
Evening.
Day 37 on escitalopram. I don't seem to be having any additional side effects with the increased dose, which is a good thing. I've contemplated adding the number of days that I've been on this dose, but I'm too lazy and don't really want the header to get any more bulky than it already is.
Mood: 5.
I still feel better, but I have no confidence that it'll last. Each hour that passes is spent waiting for indications that I'll sink to a very low low once again, perhaps for the final time. Death seems to never be far from my mind, no matter what my current state may be.
Today, as I said in the last post, was spent volunteering - I pulled seven or eight pounds of the highly invasive plant garlic mustard, Alliaria petiolata, from natural areas in a preserve. It doesn't sound like much, but these weren't exactly huge plants. The largest one I pulled up was perhaps a foot tall, and that was just the tall spike that had flowers. Being the adventurous foodie I am, I kept my bag (mostly for Curly, if I'm being honest) when we left the site. This evening was spent pulling leaves and making pesto, which had a good flavor, very fresh, but needed to be less coarse in texture, and possibly would have been more palatable on a water cracker or piece of Italian bread than on French. It also would have benefited from a squeeze of lemon, but I'm not going to be the one feasting on pesto for the next forty five years.
A lot of time today was spent talking to Curly, which I appreciated. I don't get many opportunities to socialize, and when I do, it tends to be in a group setting, which I'm not a fan of. Speaking with just one person at a time is how I'd much rather do things, because that way, I don't end up feeling like I'm being ignored or pushed to the background. That need often translates to me only rarely getting to talk properly to people in the way that's best for me, since I don't get much one-on-one time with...anyone, really, and I don't feel important enough to people to reach out and ask. It's a cruel cycle. I don't interact in the way I need because I don't feel important, and I don't feel important because I get so little interaction.
The desire to down an entire bottle of Riesling and dull what goes on in my head for a while has been coming up rather strong lately, which is frustrating and dangerous. It's not wise to drink when depressed, and I want to drink the most when I feel the worst. I wouldn't be surprised if I eventually slip into dependency.
Tomorrow, Favorite Person and I are going to Sculpin Creek. The trip didn't happen today partly because neither of us really wanted to go out after volunteering this morning, and mostly because she had already planned for a wander on Sunday, and I didn't want to be pushy and insist on today. I look forward to going back to the creek, but at the same time, I'm not particularly looking forward to spending time alone with her, since I feel like I've been very unstable in regards to our friendship as of late, and a not insignificant part of me is afraid of judgement, or of things being awkward. It's paradoxical, that I want to spend time with Favorite Person and yet dread spending time with Favorite Person...almost as though I'm more fond of the idea than of the actual activity.
I don't know. Working out why things happen the way they do in my mind is challenging.
Until then.
01 Apr 2017
Day 37 on escitalopram. I don't seem to be having any additional side effects with the increased dose, which is a good thing. I've contemplated adding the number of days that I've been on this dose, but I'm too lazy and don't really want the header to get any more bulky than it already is.
Mood: 5.
I still feel better, but I have no confidence that it'll last. Each hour that passes is spent waiting for indications that I'll sink to a very low low once again, perhaps for the final time. Death seems to never be far from my mind, no matter what my current state may be.
Today, as I said in the last post, was spent volunteering - I pulled seven or eight pounds of the highly invasive plant garlic mustard, Alliaria petiolata, from natural areas in a preserve. It doesn't sound like much, but these weren't exactly huge plants. The largest one I pulled up was perhaps a foot tall, and that was just the tall spike that had flowers. Being the adventurous foodie I am, I kept my bag (mostly for Curly, if I'm being honest) when we left the site. This evening was spent pulling leaves and making pesto, which had a good flavor, very fresh, but needed to be less coarse in texture, and possibly would have been more palatable on a water cracker or piece of Italian bread than on French. It also would have benefited from a squeeze of lemon, but I'm not going to be the one feasting on pesto for the next forty five years.
A lot of time today was spent talking to Curly, which I appreciated. I don't get many opportunities to socialize, and when I do, it tends to be in a group setting, which I'm not a fan of. Speaking with just one person at a time is how I'd much rather do things, because that way, I don't end up feeling like I'm being ignored or pushed to the background. That need often translates to me only rarely getting to talk properly to people in the way that's best for me, since I don't get much one-on-one time with...anyone, really, and I don't feel important enough to people to reach out and ask. It's a cruel cycle. I don't interact in the way I need because I don't feel important, and I don't feel important because I get so little interaction.
The desire to down an entire bottle of Riesling and dull what goes on in my head for a while has been coming up rather strong lately, which is frustrating and dangerous. It's not wise to drink when depressed, and I want to drink the most when I feel the worst. I wouldn't be surprised if I eventually slip into dependency.
Tomorrow, Favorite Person and I are going to Sculpin Creek. The trip didn't happen today partly because neither of us really wanted to go out after volunteering this morning, and mostly because she had already planned for a wander on Sunday, and I didn't want to be pushy and insist on today. I look forward to going back to the creek, but at the same time, I'm not particularly looking forward to spending time alone with her, since I feel like I've been very unstable in regards to our friendship as of late, and a not insignificant part of me is afraid of judgement, or of things being awkward. It's paradoxical, that I want to spend time with Favorite Person and yet dread spending time with Favorite Person...almost as though I'm more fond of the idea than of the actual activity.
I don't know. Working out why things happen the way they do in my mind is challenging.
Until then.
01 Apr 2017
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