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abwhite
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Wow! Last night, using my best nonchalant (okay, I can't spell)style, I mention to Joe that I've been pretty severely depressed (in case the months I've spent locked in a dirty apartment staring emptily at a TV screen while trying to work up the will to shower didn't give him a clue) and that I might want to see a doctor about maybe getting some pills to correct this. What does he say? "Okay". No big diatribe about how concerned he's been by my behaviour. No argument about how I seem fine. Just "okay". So I hopped in the shower and crawled back into bed and that was that. I've lost my insurance card, so I'll have to get a new one and ask about how one goes about having them pay for a psychiatrist within walking distance of the house and then I'll be on my way to "normal". GMAC called today. I think they're planning to reposess the car today. Sicj thing is, we've had a check sitting on the ironing board for weeks now, just waiting to be maiked to them. Now Joe's going to have to drive over to a not so tasty neighborhood to western union them some money so that we aren't without transport. Nick seems to have perked up a bit. I'm not sure that his method of dealing with his bouts of depression is, in the long term, such a great idea, but at least it's working in the short term.
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2002-08-22 |
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