Somehow, when I start feeling like my life in unraveling, my first thought is that I just suck. Then it's "maybe it's PMS, isn't it that time?" And eventually it dawns on me ... I ran out of Prozac last week. Or maybe the end of the week before. I remember taking my last pill and thinking I'd better get a refill ... but I guess I didn't realize how long ago that was. This explains my trouble sleeping, my exhaustion, my annoyance at relatively little things, my lack of give-a-damn about my eating, my hours of crying over that stupid Kiwi video (still, the link is to the happy one!), and the panic attack I had at my dad's.

This is just so fucking stupid! I know what happens to me when I stop taking my happy pills. I don't know why my brain chemistry is so screwed up; but I know that if I just take my pills I'm much better off. I didn't mean to stop taking them ... I guess I just was busy and so I didn't realize just how long it's been since I ran out.

I used to think my depression was a function of other things in my life. My dad's drinking, or my boyfriend living on the other side of the work, or being fat, or having no friends, or whatever. But after a couple of years of life basically being good, I had to admit that it's not situational. It's chemical. For example, right now, there's not anything really wrong with my life. Yeah, I have a lot of bills to pay, and that's a little stressful. I'm single, but I'm okay with that. I miss my friends, who are all 90 miles away, but I'm not isolated or miserable about it. My dad still drinks, but I've mostly learned to avoid or cope with it. Etc. etc. And yet, even though I have friends, and good relationships with my family, and things I enjoy, and I'm managing with bills .... without my prozac I've turned into an over-sensitive, panicking, exhausted mess.

So I've called it in the the pharmacy, and I can pick it up tomorrow. Yippee!