First off, thanks to everyone who read my last post and understood that I wasn’t getting at anyone. I just… *REALLY* needed to vent. It upsets me how set up ‘normal’ society is to hold up not-that-great treatment of self as a desired norm — as someone whose brain does a good enough job kicking its own ass, I cannot understand why I’d want to complicate things. *chuckles*
I come to you today live from the office. Yessh, it feels good to be back at ‘real’ work, hee hee. I love being at my mother-in-law’s house, mind, but our basement office space is a cooler temperature and it’s pleasantly quiet and isolated. Which is good — waking up earlier means that it feels like it takes a lot longer to come to. I’ve adjusted fairly well these first couple of days; I’ve been coming to in a fairly alert state, and rousing at the time I wanted to with the help of the nudging alarm clock thingie. In that, I’m feeling optimistic about transitioning to an earlier time. I don’t know if I’ll swing it around to seven am with the husband-fellow and child-person, but we’ll see. At least I’m getting up earlier enough to give her a hug and a kiss before she’s off to school.
It will be interesting to see how the shift affects my health, mentally and physically. I’ve always been keyed as a night person — even in Kindergarten, I used to ask why I couldn’t go to school at night. During the summers, myself and the sister after me would generally stay up until sunrise, because it’s what felt right to do. My husband is of the same cloth, but is more pragmatic about things than I am, which is why he’s the one to cart Lilbit to school in the mornings. It will give/does give me time to come around after hitting my sleep cycle correctly, both of which we know are vital to me not spending the day in bed.
So how am I doing, exarctly? I’m fairly alert, though my head is a teense foggy. I’m feeling a bit goofy and euphoric, which… no idea how to parse that at this exact moment. Perhaps I’m swinging out of a light patch of depression? I know I’ve speculated that there could very well be some underlying my mainly stable state, and it’s why I’m contemplating asking my psychiatrist to up the antidepressant dose very slightly when I see him next week. It’s quite obviously helping, so we’ll see what he thinks about that. He might not want to up it since we’re trying to get pregnant, but on the other hand, it’s not like an SSRI is a significant pregnancy risk. The Seroquel is definitely a questionable factor, and I have hopes I can convince him to let me come off of it in time to be fine for a home birth — no hospitals for me, no no… too many anxiety-causing lights, people, and noises.
Whatever the overall picture, the snapshot of the moment is just fine. I hope it’s as well for all of you.