I'm following doctor's orders and taking my prescriptions, including the gratefully received anti-depressant. I'm also rather compulsively monitoring my heart rate. I once heard someone say, in reference to the heart, that all pumps are pre-rated, and I can't help wondering how many beats I've wasted due to stress and not taking better care of myself.
That is really the heart of the matter for me. I'm terrible at taking care of myself, and it saddens me because I was really pretty good at taking care of other people. At least, I think I was. I'm not so sure of that anymore. There are so many things I'm unsure of now.
I'm holding onto hope though. Maybe I can start feeling better. It's been almost a week since I started the medicines, I've blacked out once, but I haven't had a migraine in three days. I took my blood pressure at a free monitor at a big box store today, and it was still high, but lower. For I don't know how long now, I've white knuckled my way through my job and then gone home to crash with no energy left for anything else.
My intellectual, creative and social life are non-existent, and I can no longer rationalize away all the choices I've made. I'm tired of the self-pity and the fear. I want better for myself and from myself, and I have to convince myself that I am worth what it's going to take to get it.