Gym Times!

It's decided. I prefer the gym to people.

*There's quite a bit more profanity in this than I would usually use. You've been warned.*

I don't even particularly like most of the people at my gym right now.
Granted that's because I don't know them and I've only been going a few weeks and they all seem like scary, steroid-filled meatheads but still: they're preferable to most of the irl people I know. As a side note, it took me no less than seven attempts at writing 'irl' there - my mac kept correcting it to 'url'... Clearly it's not hip on the lingo at the moment. Anyway...

I've come to the realisation that most of the people I know irl just bring me down and burden me with all their shit. I am so over that. I mean come on, I'm sick of being everyone's go to girl when they're bitching and moaning about things that they could have prevented. I'm not going to go into specifics but I'm sure you get the idea.
I love helping people and being there for people but I sort of expect the same liberties. I mean if I'm having a shitty day, I want them to take five minutes out of being so wrapped up in their own problems to help me out. Of if my meds are fucking me up - I need to be able to talk about that crap. What I most certainly do not need is my so called friends to get all uncomfortable and change the subject as soon as possible. Or talk over me. Or stop talking to me at all. Or conveniently forget that we were supposed to be meeting up.
None of that. None of that shit. I'm done. What I want, what I need, is people who are going to help me. People who are going to cut me a break when I need it or, hell, even when I don't need it - just when I want it!

I'm sorry, I really am, about all the rants in the posts this week. I've just been realising a lot about myself. I haven't been taking as many propranolol as directed either - I keep forgetting - but to be perfectly honest, I think I'm coming across some fairly ground-breaking realisations about myself right now. I'm supposed to take 3 per day but they were making me really tired and even 2 a day was slashing my energy levels. Right now I'm taking 1-2 per day when I remember and I'm feeling so much better.
I'm still having really depressive days when I just can't shift the cloud. And times like yesterday I just burst into tears for no reason. Yesterday I was tense and paranoid and worried about everything and then I went to the gym and within 30 minutes I was perfectly fine. It's like freaking magic!

Then I go on Facebook (the devil in disguise) and within seconds I'm freaking miserable. I realise that I really, really don't like most of them! I don't really care about most of the ones that I haven't spoken to in months. Or who haven't made an effort to talk to me.
In fact, as of writing that last paragraph, I've gotten rid of like a fifth of my 'friends' on Facebook. Any people whose names were met with 'who the fuck are they?' or 'I'm sick of their shit.' or 'I haven't spoken to them in x years and I can't see me actually talking to them again.' have gone. I could get rid of more but I kept a few for nostalgia like school friends and the like.

I'm feeling slightly better already. I like that I've realised that my own health is important. I needed that. Especially after this summer. I don't really know what's triggered it, I think I just feel as though it's time now, to look after myself and to take care of myself until I'm better.

Back to the original point!

I love, love, LOVE the gym.

I mean, I kinda hate it when I'm sitting in bed on the internet and I know that I need to go and put on some pants (yes, underwear, not trousers - over-share, I know) and some real clothes and brush my hair and drag myself up the street to the gym where all the scary men are. But once I've done my warm up and I've started my first rep everything else just melts away.
When I'm there it becomes my form, my technique, the weight I'm lifting and how much it does (or doesn't) burn when I'm finishing my last rep. I know that I'm overweight, I don't feel any less self-conscious about my fat rolls there than anywhere else but at least, when I'm there, I can say: 'Well, fuck you all, haters,  at least I'm working on it.'
At least I've gotten my ass out of bed and into some moisture control trousers and into the gym.
And hell, this emotional benefit? I've never felt that before! Not really, anyway. I get it from yoga but it doesn't last long really. I didn't get it from karate in the later years - I mostly hated it all the time. I resented the fact that I didn't get the chance to learn. I resented the people, my instructor, all of it. I sort of got it from running but I think, mentally, I wasn't in as good a place then as I am now - I put myself down way too much to get a buzz from anything.

My diet's still pretty sucky. I could be doing that a lot better and, surprise, surprise, I guilt-trip myself about that too but it's better than it was! Apart from tea tonight. That's going to be a massive cheat...

I've decided though, that I'm going to be bad ass. I'm going to be strong and, maybe not ripped per se, but I'm going to have 'dat ass'. The ass of squats and the body of weight training. Fuck cardio workouts. Well not really. They have their uses but my workouts mostly concern of less than 10 minutes of cardio to warm up, then around 45 minutes of weights, then 10-20 minutes of cardio to cool down again.
I'm going to be military grade fit again because frankly, I owe it to myself. I don't deserve to be fat and miserable and unhealthy. Fuck that shit. All of it. Nope.

Boom inspiration! God knows where all that came from... It's true though. And this isn't going to be one of those 'does it for a month and then never again' things. This is it, baby.

Non-NaNoWriMo Related News

As much as I'd like to write about the many things that have happened since my last proper update post, I can't. Nothing much really has happened. I've had a few NaNo meets and the washing machine broke. Plus there was a flat inspection and then the hoover broke too. Other than that very little has gone on.

College is still going fine, I'm still in my third year, still doing photography, still loving it. The only thing that's changed there is that I'm now fairly determined to do the top-up year in order to make my FdA a full BA in Photography once I've finished this summer. After my Gran died, I did a lot of thinking about it and, especially since Matt's going to be at college an extra year now, I think it's for the best. I'll get a more credible, more widely recognised and understood qualification plus more funding in that year. It may mean adjusting my work hours but hopefully that won't be too much of a problem. It'll also give me the means to set up my own business which is what I want to do in the long term after all!

Other news - exciting news, that is - concerns me going back to karate as a favourite thing and maybe, possibly opening my own club up in the spring this year. Hopefully between myself and the three/four others I'll be working with, we'll have our own permanent, 24 hour venue in which to run fitness classes, flexibility training, karate classes, kick-boxing, tae kwon do and sports massage sessions. I also want to start teaching yoga but at the moment I'm no where near good enough for that! We're going down to Birmingham in January to start our formal instructor training with a gentleman from Verve. I'm pretty excited (and simultaneously terrified).
In the same vein, I finally got approved for joining a gym by the doctor when I visited this morning. What one guy was going to charge me £20 for (and not actually give me a medical exam) I got for free from the doctor that sorts my medication. He's not my GP but at the moment he's as good as - he sorts my anti-depressants and anti-anxiety tablets as my GP was on maternity leave at the time and I'd rather not have too many people adjusting my medication here and there as they see fit! As soon as I got the note saying that I was deemed well enough to join the gym, I dropped it off at the gym in question and booked by induction for Friday afternoon. I'm super excited for it, if I'm honest, and a little bit nervous but to be honest, that's usually the best combination.
Now that I've got that sorted, I'm going to start eating paleo (again) and stick to it through doing 80:20. In short, I'll eat paleo 80% of the time but allow myself one day (or just a few meals) that aren't paleo compliant in order to not restrict myself so much that I can't stick to the way of eating. I really want to cut back on my gluten consumption too - after reading into what gluten can actually do to your digestive system and about how people who are sensitive don't often know it, I think it'd just be safer not to eat it. After all, it could be a contributor to my psoriasis and god knows I'll do anything to get rid of that!
I'm still doing fairly well after the light treatment ended. I've got a few patches on my face that have come back but I know that if I moisturise they'll calm down and, failing that, I've still got some Eumovate and Tacrolimus ointments. It's my scalp that's doing the worst at the moment but that's due to me not using the Sebco ointment and wearing my hair up or in hats because of work and the cold... Some days I feel like I shouldn't even bother keeping on top of all my creams and things because I feel so awful about myself anyway. Then I remember that I always feel better when my skin and hair look better - I worry less about my appearance and am generally happier. Plus I'm more willing to do other things to look after myself such as my CBT activities, exercise and healthy eating.
Another reason that I was at the doctors today is that I found a lump in my breast and Matt insisted that I got it checked out. My mum had a breast cancer scare earlier this year so it'd be a lie to say that I wasn't worried about it but, fortunately, the doctor thinks that it's unlikely to be anything serious and is likely just a cyst that may need drained (which is pretty disgusting but certainly not cancer so yay!) Even so, he's sending me off to the special under-30s breast clinic in the next couple of weeks to get an ultrasound just in case and for them to treat it in whatever way they see fit.

That's everything that I can think of for now but I shall be sure to update if anything else comes up!

After a long absence...

16/9/13

Or at least what feels to me like a long absence, I'm back!

August was, by and large, pretty nasty. I haven't quite decided how I'm going to run down everything that went on so here's a chronological list of most of what went on. 

1) My therapy sessions with my psychologist started up in earnest. 

2) I wasn't feeling too hot on the 30mg mirtazapine so my doctor put me up to 45mg. I then missed my second appointment with Marie, my psychologist. 

3) I went away to Bloodstock for five days - the first weekend of August. It was amazing and I met some really great people but it was also really tiring. 

4) My flatmate decided he was moving out, when I got home from work one evening, and I then found out that my other half had already found us a new flatmate without asking me. I must point out here that I didn't mind so much that I wasn't consulted - I really like the new guy and it wasn't like I had anyone to ask anyway. 

5) My gran (mam's mam) took ill due to ongoing heart problems. She's had a narrowing valve for a lot of years now but none of us were ever expecting anything to come of it. 

6) I went away to a family wedding in Gretna Green for a weekend. It was lovely, I had a great time even though I was largely on my own - Matt was supposed to have the time off but couldn't due to work commitments. 

7) Upon returning from the wedding, I had a really bad day exacerbated by an 'argument'. I turned to self-harm and contemplated taking my life. It got so bad that I had to go to A&E to keep myself safe/alive. I was then given two weeks off work and more diazepam to recover. 

8) My gran had valve replacement surgery and then proceeded to progress amazingly. She was allowed home less than a week after her surgery and has continued to improve steadily. 

9) My grandma (step dad's mam) was rushed into hospital with internal bleeding and organ failure. While in hospital she contracted peritonitis and pneumonia. She later died on the bank holiday Monday after being in South Shields General for seven days. I visited her only once before she died - I was the last grandchild to go. 

10) Matt got his interview for college. It was scheduled for the 28th, my birthday, and he passed well after a fortnight of really hard work.

11) I started therapy again. In the session Marie told me of a special group therapy course that they'll be running this winter. 10 2.5 hour sessions with approximately ten people all with moderate to severe long-standing depression. She think's that I suit the criteria and I thought that it sounded like a good opportunity.

12) I missed therapy again. I slept in - again - meaning I managed to sleep for a solid 14 hours. I rang in and rearranged but now I'm just waiting on my appointment letter arriving. 

13) I turned 21! I ended up having to celebrate the occasion 3 times - twice with family and once with friends (twice with friends if you count my actual birthday, on which Matt and I went out for pizza and did nothing else. 

14) All the while, I was trying to make it to the RVI three times a week for light treatment for my psoriasis. My skin condition is exacerbated by stress so you can imagine how well it was going... And I started working again. 

15) Oh and my pay was about £300 short after being on the sick. I should get it this month though.

THEN September started and, with that, the 3rd year of my FdA in Photography. Talk about stress! 

Today, when I got to the hospital, I asked how many sessions I had left. Just so I could tell work how long it'd be until I went back to my normal shifts - my Wednesday and Monday shifts had to be pushed back two hours so I could fit everything in. My psoriasis had largely cleared up a week or two ago but, knowing that I still had about a month left, I didn't point this out. Also no one asked me. However today, after the nurse said that I had two weeks left, she actually asked how it was clearing up. I told her that apart from a tiny scar on my shin and a tiny, slightly dry patch on my hip, everything treated by the light was gone. At which point she was like "Oh well you're done then!" 

I looked at her from my little light box, standing there in my smalls and a hospital gown, before she added: "Since you're here, have your treatment today and then we'll discharge you."

*I must also point out that, as I write this, there's a toddler sitting on the bus next to me screaming because his mother won't give him any sweets. It's very distracting. I'm also soaked because, before I went into the hospital, it was pretty sunny, once I got out like 10 minutes later, it was pissing down and I'm wearing cloth shoes.*

It's nice, finally being discharged. I don't have to slog it to the city centre three times a week only to come home half an hour after getting there - it seemed like such a dreadful waste of time. And I won't have to work until 10pm on Wednesdays.
Well that's it for today I think, more later - or tomorrow - but I have to go to work now...

As Good As It Was...

Sincerest apologies for being pretty absent recently. I've had a lot on, sort of.
By that, I mean I've not actually had a lot going on but it's felt like a ridiculous amount of stuff due to my epic lack of mental oomph these days. Right this moment I'm actually getting hassle from the webzine I volunteer for. They're saying I didn't send them the right pictures even though I did - it's not my fault if where the venue allow me to stand has a shitty viewpoint... Plus, if they'd done their job right in the first place I'd have been able to do the entire job rather than just do damage control from that failure of a day...
Other than that, I've had a disciplinary hearing at work for being off so much and they really grilled me about every little detail. They didn't quite want to hear the gruesome bits so much though. And the note-taker managed to make me sound like a moron. Instead of actually writing what I said he paraphrased it resulting in me sounding incredibly simple. I've applied for a temp job at Lush in Eldon Square in town over the winter so hopefully I'll get that and they'll keep me on. That way I'll be able to get out of my current job for good. I don't even care if I have to work twice as much - it's something I really want to do and will doubtless have fun doing. I found out the other week that I'd been shortlisted for an interview so I'm pretty psyched about that!
My ability to do housework guttered out about the same time the will to anything that wasn't watching mindless American TV did. It took me a little while to notice - we'd ran out of forks and underwear before I actually did anything about it. Most of my free time has been spent getting really fucking blitzed.

The meds have plateaued again. I think all the stress has just shut down my serotonin and ramped up the cortisol and I'm really not doing very well. When I rang the doctors' yesterday to get an appointment, and a prescription, I was told there was no pre-bookable appointments available until some time in September. As a result, I'm just going to have to turn up one morning and hope for the best! They always have on-the-day appointments for emergencies. I guess I just wish that exceptions could be made. I suppose then everyone would want to be the exception though...
I want some time off work - I feel like I need to just pull back and regroup. Just to sort myself out before I jump back into work. I've got a new therapist now - she's a psychologist rather than a CBT therapist. She seems lovely. I just think that the whole therapy thing is going to get worse before it gets better and I'm honestly not sure if I can do work as well. I can barely talk to customers right now as it is! If it gets any worse I'm worried that I'll say something to someone that'll land me in so much shit that I'll just get fired.
I'm also scared to take time off because then I'll probably end up in another disciplinary hearing and, even though they're all related illnesses, I'm concerned that I'll be treated more severely since it'll be my fourth absence and my second time in a hearing.
Plus there's the whole holiday mix up from last weekend as well. I was convinced I was on holiday because it was my cousin's wedding. But apparently there's no evidence of me ever requesting that day off so, when I wasn't there, it went down as an unauthorised absence. Since I effectively didn't show up for my shift.
I'm feeling so hopeless right now that part of me just wishes they would fire my ass... I hate feeling like that - I worked damn hard for 14 months to get that job and I'm fucking good at it!

Because my willpower's taken a hit, so has the CBT exercises, pole-dancing, yoga and the diet. I think the diet was pretty doomed early on to be honest but, at the same time, I've still been eating really healthily since that's the only kind of food I've been buying. I rarely leave the house for anything other than work and the hospital. Even then I go grudgingly.
With the hospital I end up so drained that I can barely walk afterwards which, when coupled with the exhaustion I get from the Mirtazapine, is pretty dire. On my first light treatment session they burned me quite badly - no blisters or anything, just a nasty sunburn for a couple of days. The psoriasis is clearing up really nicely though so that's refreshing! I still have to use the Eumovate and the coal tar and salicylic acid coconut oil stuff every week. I don't actually use it (I know, I know) it's the whole willpower thing again. Frankly it's awful to use. It smells bad. It looks bad. It feels bad. But it's bloody good stuff...

I think this will do for now. I have more photos to edit and they're not going to darken themselves. Fortunately Matt has a friend coming round tonight so I'll have the evening to myself to do the editing - even though I promised I'd play Magic with them. Honestly, the editing shouldn't take long.


So I shall leave you with this, one of my current favourite songs: the beautiful and vibrant, Veela.

Anti-depressants: The Bane of the Fat Girl

Yeah, the worst really hadn't passed when I last posted. It's all been pretty grim. Instead of cutting I turned to scratching and picking and biting: the therapist's whole "draw where you'd cut" thing didn't work for very long at all - ten minutes tops. My CBT sessions have restarted to stop me flipping out too much before I go to NPS next month and, as of this morning, I'm not due back at the doctors until I feel like something's going wrong. 

It's a little bit scary to not have my next appointment mapped out - it's been so long! - it should be alright though. 

I'm a bit worried about going up to 30mg Mirtazapine too but, again, it should be alright. I'm still getting the anxiety episodes and the days of epic rage but they aren't as bad anymore really. As for my low mood and the like, well, it's pretty nasty - hence the upping of the dose. 

I think that my longest ongoing health issue, alongside the depression, is my complete inability to lose weight and stay at whatever lower weight for any period of time at all. I had, in fact, started losing weight a month or two ago through calorie controlling and exercise but then I started taking Mirtazapine which makes you eat like a mofo... I mentioned this to my doctor, having gained nearly six kilos in a month, and he just looked at me apologetically and said "Unfortunately there's nothing I can do. It's just a side-effect of most anti-depressants. It's just a matter of finding ways to combat the weight gain..."

So aside from being generally fat (also, all the women in my family are overweight which can only exacerbate things really >_<) the meds make me bloated and sluggish. When I do exercise it makes me happy for about ten minutes afterwards then I just feel shit again. Regardless of how long I exercise or how intensely I do it. My psoriasis is getting so bad my skin's swelling up and chafing like crazy. To combat that, I'm starting light treatment in the next week or so too so that's going to pull the psoriasis back but probably also give me sunburn and/or 3rd degree burn blisters on my face/arms/stomach - you name it... Another side-effect of the Mirtazapine that I'm experiencing is 'strange sensations in the skin' which basically means either pins and needles, numbness or itching in one or more parts of my body. Usually my face/mouth (weirdest thing ever) or legs/forearms. Nothing really helps that apart from willpower. 

I've had a couple of run ins with HR at work because of my uniform (I wear a knee-length black skirt that happens to not be made by their supplier). They then gave me a pair of trousers to wear. Four hours later my legs were so swollen and painful, I could barely walk. I haven't been able to go pole dancing because of the state of my thighs and, needless to say, I have gone back to wearing my skirt. If they'd ordered me one four month ago like I'd asked, we wouldn't be having this problem...

All in all, life hasn't really changed here. I'm still fat and depressed and living in a crappy, messy flat with my other half and our flatmate, who isn't really speaking to either of us for some reason. I have started doing yoga properly though, I'm trying to do at least 20 minutes 3 times a week. I managed 30 minutes after work the day before yesterday, hoping to do an hour today once I've finished this. I do feel like it's really helping, I'm a lot calmer than I was and feel pretty peaceful. I've only done like five sessions though so I'm thinking that I'm not yet reaping the full benefits. 

I'm going to make a pretty drastic diet change (again) come Monday - I'm going paleo-vegetarian for 30 days to cleanse and detox my body. I'm doing it via Whole9 and it's reported to help improve the condition of people suffering from various medical things such as depression, anxiety, psoriasis, arthritis, lupus, Crohn's etc. In my opinion, I can't really get much worse than I have been these last few years so I've got bugger all to lose! 

Coming up this week (I'm trying to plan my blogs more so I actually do them), we've got a closer look at how I'm going to go paleo, my bucket list and why some people shouldn't be allowed to breed! See you later!

*links to come*

Insomniac Ramblings

I can smell chocolate.
I don't know why and I don't know where it's coming from. But I know that I can smell it... I think it might be from when Matt was eating one of his Easter eggs earlier - there was a chocolate-looking mark on the bed where he'd been sitting.
There's also a chance that it might be coming from my Herbalife shake tub... They're chocolate flavoured and remarkably realistic! I'm enjoying having them - they're quick and easy to make, they taste good and they're generally pretty convenient. With the added weightloss bonus of course...

Anyway, back to what I was originally going to post today...
I've realised that although I started this blog with the intention of going through how I was coping with depression and anxiety and how it all made me feel, I'm not sure I've done much of that.

For me, depression makes me feel worthless and as if I'm not good enough. In turn, that stops me from trying because I believe that I'm crap anyway, so why bother?

Some days, I find it especially hard to get out of bed because I just haven't got the strength to face the day. Everything seems bleak and dark and pointless. I don't want to do anything. Anything I do do is faced done with a rather miserable attitude of 'why am I bothering, I don't want to be here' regardless of how well it's hidden.

I hate the fact that I have to fake smiles. It's exhausting. It's stupid. I don't see why I should do this for others half the time.

Of course, that, to me, comes across as extreme selfishness - something I was raised to hate and avoid at all costs.
This, ergo, makes me feel horribly guilty - like a truly despicable human being. I disgust myself and hate myself. There are times when these feelings get so bad all I want to do is die. I don't want to kill myself, I just want to die.
Of course, there are the other times when I do want to take my own life. Whether it be through overdose or through cutting myself somewhere vital. Sometimes I cut myself to feel in control when everything else is too crazy. When it feels like the world has stopped turning but I haven't and all I can hear is my own mental screaming and my own voice and the other voice telling me how worthless and horrible I am. When all I can see are flaws in everything. When I feel so much that I feel nothing. The last of my most recent scars are nearly healed and the itching is driving me mad.

It's pretty tough. Sometimes, like now, I can see that I don't give myself enough credit for dealing with this and getting the help that I have. Sometimes, I don't feel like it's been enough. I know that I'm going to go to the doctors tomorrow and tell him that I don't feel any better. I'm going to tell him that I in fact feel emotionally dead most of the time. That time itself seems to take three times as long. That I'm spacing out, confused, disorientated. I'm not sure what the outcome of that will be but I'll let you know either way.

On a somewhat lighter note, Matt had his closest friend visiting today so I cooked us all whole wheat spaghetti bolognese. It was amazing. We had it with warm, freshly made bread and garlic Lurpack. There's still some bolognese left - I'm planning on having some tomorrow with rice. Or maybe just with salad. Or with pasta salad. I haven't quite decided. Obviously...

Normal People Things

Aside from all the medication, I've recently been doing more normal things like going out for drinks with Emily and going to a Spring Break themed house party hosted by two of the guys I know.

On Friday, with Emily, after squeeing over her baby turtles for a few hours, I went to Tokyo (a cocktail bar in Newcastle, not the capital of Japan) and in the space of three hours we managed to spend £120 of her fiancé's money. She matched me drink for drink (most of which were £7 or £7.50) and then, the next day, was violently ill. I was hungover but, all in all, fine. In the course of the night, one girl and her friend told me I looked 'a bit too booby' and 'awful' which I (and my 36DDs) found very amusing. She insinuated that I was a slut - while dressed like one herself. Personally, I had no make-up on, was wearing a red, thigh-length jumper with a shallow v-neck, galaxy print leggings (not BlackMilk unfortunately) and red converse type shoes. She had a black and white geometric print dress that barely covered her arse and (small) chest and had a shovel full of make-up on. Clearly it was my naked skin that offended her. When I mentioned this to the barman, he offered to spit in her drink.
Later on, another girl asked one of the girls serving on the bar if Tokyo was in China. This resulted in me having a long and arduous conversation enlightening her to the placement of Tokyo in Japan and that, no, Japan is not in China either.
When I got home, Matt was amused at how incredibly mashed I was and later complained that it was 'an absolute mission' to get me to drink an Alka-Seltzer before bed. He was convinced I was going to throw up but I didn't even though I felt like it later when I was at work...
If you ever go to Tokyo, get the Eggs Benedictine and the Tokyo Zombie - they're both absolutely incredible.

On Saturday, after the theatre (Cinderella on Ice with the Russian Ice Stars), I headed over to Andy and Andrew's for their Spring Break party. They even had an inflatable palm tree in the front room! It was an amazing night. I took it pretty easy, after drinking all night the night before and being busy all day Saturday, I really couldn't be bothered. Still with limbo competitions and dance offs, everybody had lots of drunken fun. I'm definitely looking forward to the summer one during which there'll be a BBQ and they'll actually be using the inflatable palm tree for it's true purpose - a giant ice bucket and drinks holder!!!

As for today, I spent the first half writing and the rest doing house work. Now that Matt's heading to Tae Kwon Do, I'm going to do some flexibility training and yoga before making something nice and healthy for tea.

Eight Days Of Fluoxetine, Three Days Of Herbalife.

As you can probably tell, today is my eighth day of taking Fluoxetine instead of Citalopram. The withdrawal symptoms from taking reduced doses of Citalopram were pretty intense. After getting over the viral infection, I still had to take the Penicillin VK until yesterday morning (horrifying tasting stuff that is...) but I was all better and things so all I had to deal with were the bizarre withdrawal symptoms of the Citalopram and the new side effects of the Fluoxetine.
Now, before I started taking it (the Fluoxetine) I'd managed to pretty much terrify myself by reading various accounts of what people had gone through for the first six weeks of taking the new medication. As far as I could tell, most people were taking it for anxiety rather than depression however, and they hadn't previously been taking an SSRI (Selective Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitor such as Citalopram). Contrary to everything that I read, my first week has gone really smoothly. Even the doctor thought I'd have a hard time adjusting to the new medication but strangely, I've been alright. To be honest, on my first day of Fluoxetine, I did have a breakdown in the bathrooms at work. I think it managed to terrify everyone - they keep asking me how I am and how I'm adjusting to tills and if I'm okay. I just keep telling them that I'm feeling a lot better and that working on checkouts is better for me than the fresh department. Which it is - fresh was lonely and I had far too much time to dwell on things whereas with checkouts I can't do that.
After I got over the virus and the Citalopram withdrawal, I've not really felt anything - I don't feel worse, apart from the occasional bad spat of anxiety, but I don't feel all that better either. I'm forgetting things, spacing out, getting confused easily. I don't really feel happier or anything like that so I'm suspecting that, on Thursday, when I go back to the doctors, he'll increase my dose.

Aside from the new medication, I've also started drinking the Herbalife meal replacement shakes. They're really nice and I think I'm already noticing a difference in my eating after just three days! I'm having two shakes, two teas, two snacks and one nutritious meal per day. It feels kind of like Slimfast but I feel nowhere near as bloated and sluggish as I did after their meal replacements. It's obviously forcing me to eat a lot healthier too - even though I have approximately zero money.
Last night, my main meal was noodle salad with a whole egg. The salad part comprised of half a green pepper, half an onion, half a tiny turnip, a third of a cup of broccoli, half a cup of cos lettuce and some dried chilli salt, half a vegetable OXO cube and pepper for seasoning. It was gorgeous! Less than 300kcals too! (Notice how I've put in my MyFitnessPal page for you! My screen name's Sarah2808 should any of you wish to follow me.)

I'm hoping, once I've been paid on Friday, to get to pole dancing at least twice a week and I'm going to start walking to and from work as of tomorrow and maybe even to and from town when I'm at college and things - saves a hell of a lot of money! Also, now that I've got the spare room under control, I'm wanting to get a little space heater and use it as a yoga/pole dancing room as well. That way, not only will I - hopefully - be losing weight through Herbalife, but I'll be getting leaner and more toned through exercise too.

Well, that said, I'm off to make my morning shake (yes, I realise it's past 2pm but that's beside the point...) 

TTFN!