I'm home early tonight. Jimmy and Lupita showed up at the nursing home around 4 or 5. I was going to work on the taxes with Jim. Since he had company I decided to come on home.
I was afraid to leave actually. I'm so depressed. When I'm not with Jim I have a difficult time functioning. Depression is a kind of paralysis. So, it's another thing Jim and I have in common. (that's a joke.) But I seem to be okay so far tonight.
I was crying when I got to the "home" today. The CNA Florence just couldn't believe I was crying. She asked me what happened. OMG! I was at a nursing home visiting my paralyzed husband. Isn't that enough?
People love to tell me that things could be worse. That makes it all the more difficult. Why would thinking about more horrible crap happening make me feel better? It's irrational.
I'm going to a psychiatrist on Monday. I need better antidepressants. I've been taking a low dose of zoloft for years. My regular doctor has been prescribing them for me since my old doctor died. I need something stronger. I need to be able to function.
I'm pretty proud of myself for finding a psychiatrist and making an appointment. It's not all that easy to find a shrink who will take insurance. I'm doing my best to take care of myself so I can continue taking care of Jim and Mom.