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"meh"nopause
October 25, 2013

I wish I didn�t feel so completely ugh. Tired and listless and achy and just plain blah. I am so sick of hearing me whine I want to tell myself to STFU. I don�t even want to post this, because it�s just another batch of the same whingey crap.

I�m pretty sure that it is not just being run down this time. There may be other (hormonal) factors in play. Given the perimenopause and the Hashi�s, there probably are. But if I look myself in the eye and say �here are the things you need to do in order to feel better� and then answer myself with �I know, but I don�t care. I am too tired and I don�t want to do those things because I don�t want to do ANYthing.��well that�s depression. The diabolical, evil, nasty bitch who not only makes you feel bad, but effectively steals your ability to do anything that will make you feel better. And your ability to listen to anyone else who wants to help you.

I think I need to go back to the doctor and tell him the medicine doesn�t work.

I am dreading the holidays�I know that�s nothing new with me, but I really do want to blow off even the stuff that usually brings me a modest level of satisfaction. The baking, the cards. Last year, with my mother being sick and all, I ended up having to blow a lot of it off, but still managed to do some baking and make some candies. This year, I don�t even want to bother with that much. When even butter mints sound like too much of a hassle, you know you are feeling burned out.





Reading: Still in Sequelville (see previous post)

Listening: Susan Tedeschi, Shawn Colvin, Bonnie Raitt, Sarah MacLachlan, and here�s an interesting fact: I have heard some version of �Sweet Jane� every day this week. From Velvet Underground, from Mott the Hoople, and of course, the perfectly perfect Cowboy Junkies version that resides on Mr. Pilkington.

At Random: click here

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