Something about me (#1 in an irregular series of posts about ME)

Here’s something I’ll bet you didn’t know about me:  I have a psychiatrist AND a psychotherapist.  Yep.  I’m a big-time mess.

I have dealt with depression all my adult life.  It runs deep in my family.  If you look me up in DSM-V I am 296.32 Major Depressive Disorder Recurrent.  It’s kind of reassuring to know that my problem can be categorized and given a numeric code.  It’s much less nebulous than “feel like shit all the time.”


I’ve been on Prozac for about 27 years and on Wellbutrin for 8 years.  My symptoms have been getting out of hand so I”ve lately been seeing a psychiatrist to help adjust my medication levels.  It only took him about 45 minutes to suggest that I see a therapist as well, to help with my “cognitive issues.”  I guess I should’t be smiling so big as I type this, but the very idea of having cognitive issues kind of cracks me up.

So today is therapy day and I have very mixed feelings about it.  One the one hand, if it helps I am all for it.  On the other hand, I dread mucking around in all the unpleasantness that I have rather successfully suppressed.

Among the things that I will be discussing today is, yes, loosing my Vox family.  I’ve decided that I am not ashamed that the internets are part of my non-professional support network. I think that it is only normal to feel a little panicky about such a big part of my internet interaction is being snuffed out.

The Internet Does Not Love You

The Internet Does Not Love You

I know that the internet does not love me.

But the internet, like Soylent Green, is people.  And I’ve gotten to love some of you people quite a bit.

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