completely worn out

Completely worn out

I had coffee with a dear friend of mine this morning. We talked and laughed for several hours until she had to pick up her daughter. It was good talking with her. She recently lost her husband about two maybe three weeks ago. I forget. Then we walked down to the bus stop. I didn’t think I was going to make it but I did. My legs were worn out by the end of our visit. But it was so good to talk to her. She also lost her father many years ago so she understands what I am going through.

When I got home, my sister told me the check from my father’s insurance came. So I had to go back to the Square to deposit it. I got something to eat there as well. What I ordered wasn’t very good but I ate it anyway. I didn’t finish it as it was much too big for me to eat. I just left it as I didn’t want to bring it home. The bus was late so I had to wait. I just wanted to go home and put my foot up. It was smarting.

My pdoc didn’t call in my refill. I don’t know what I am going to do now as I will be out come Monday. I emailed her several times already. I really don’t want to email her again. I am kind of in a fuck it mood so I really don’t care if my antidepressant gets filled or not. I have been somewhat hypomanic the past two days because I haven’t been sleeping. Last night I was up most of the night. I don’t think I went to sleep till 0400. Then I woke up at 0645 and I have been going since. I took a shower, met up with my friend, came home, went back out, came home and now I am blogging. It’s been go, go, go. I am very tired.

For those that read my last blog (how can I help you say goodbye), I talked about the newspaper clippings my father had in his wallet. My sister found them and gave them to me. Now I feel really sad. Monday I have to get his death certificate translated and found out that the place I got to go to is near my godmother’s house. I might stop in and see her before I leave. It’s not every day that I am in that area.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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