My only official unofficial New Year’s Resolution was to get my mental health under control. As much as one can control mental health.
I made a few good decisions at the end of last year, one of them being to finally have a little heart-to-heart with my doctor. Though I’m not really a big fan of him and thankfully he was unavailable and I got one of the other doctors in the practice. Instead of just throwing pills at me, he gave me pills AND said he wanted me to see a psychiatrist. I’ve seen psychologists in the past, but never a psychiatrist. Meds are only a bandaid. They can be necessary, yes, but they’re not a solution on their own.
Another thing I did was apply for my old job. I didn’t go back when my mat leave was over because I had too much anxiety about leaving Preston, and Noah and I decided that it was better for everyone that I not go back. My position became available again, and I feel better leaving Preston now that he is older, especially since it’s only nine weekday hours, so I applied for it back in December.
There were a few hoops I had to jump through first, though. The job requires me to be at church every Sunday morning, a place I’d been avoiding like the plague, because there are people there. People scare me. Talking to people is terrifying. Working from home since Preston was born has made me more agoraphobic than I’ve ever been. So I forced myself to go every week for a month straight. And I didn’t die. I also got the job.
I started last week and I had to keep reminding myself that I had to be at work in the morning, since I haven’t worked scheduled hours in three years. Deadlines are much easier than scheduled hours.
I really love it. And I know it’s a positive thing for me, mental-health-wise. I get to play with videos and images all day, something I enjoy doing. And I’m forced to be around adults. They’re ok.
(Please note the sarcasm. They’re all quite rad.)
write. talk about it.