Resurfacing

In some ways, my life is improving, and in others, I'm floundering as always.

I've been forcing myself to be socially active. It's felt natural at times and uncomfortable at others. But at least I'm doing something I set out to. Physically, I feel like shit. Emotionally, well, it depends on the moment. The new medication makes me feel worse, and I'm seriously thinking about just finishing the taper ahead of schedule to get it over with. Old stomach problems are back, the pain is still increasing and I'm not sleeping-so why drag it out for another five weeks? It's an inevitable part of the process, and I'm at the point where I just want to be done. No more slow and sleady agony.

How will Aaron feel about all of this... We aren't talking much. I get irritated when he throws his two cents in about this whole process when he hasn't even educated himself on opiate withdrawal. He goes into long diatribes about my head being in the right space. On one hand I know he is right about the power of the mind, but I don't feel like he really knows how hard this is. I'm trying not to tell him, because he's exhausted and I don't think he can take any kind of venting from me right now.

I will be going back to a therapist tomorrow afternoon, albeit rather sheepishly. It's always hard to start with a new counselor. I had been avoiding it for so long, but as usual, the point was reached where I knew I was lost. I hate being dependent on antidepressants and therapists, but, I will have to accept that to be happy. It's a necessity. Maybe one day it won't be that way, but being ashamed and reluctant to ask for help is just digging an early grave. At least I know that much.