Why good morning, blog readers. The clock reads 3:36AM, near the sleep point of no return, for me, anyway. And how are you? Sorry about the space between posts. That was unintended. I will make no excuses.

So how…what’s the word…explicit shall I be about the state of my mental health? Oh, fuck it, I’m going to be straightforward. What’s the worst that can happen? Ok, I’m on wellbutrin (sp?). I’ve been on wellbutrin for three weeks. Why don’t we bullet point the experience.

• My psychiatrist is a tiny, friendly woman who pays close attention and can’t sit still. I respect that.

• I’ve seen her twice so far. This last session was particularly fascinating. She said, “you have to remember that you’ve been chronically depressed since, from what I can tell, you were around ten years old. Everyone who knows you only knows you as chronically depressed.” Holy shit. I mean, does that mean for the last thirty years I’ve been someone slightly (or more than slightly) different than who I’m supposed to be? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I can’t quite get my head around the concept. I think she’s right, though. When I look back on pretty much my whole life, well, there’s this veil that’s always present between the rest of the world and me. I always thought that was normal, but perhaps I was wrong. All I could do was work with what I had, you know? And I’ve always, in the background, carried this sense of guilt, that I was doing something wrong, that I was broken. And, well, apparently I am/was broken, but some of the guilt is lifting. I hope I can make up lost time.

• I should differentiate between the psychologist and the psychiatrist. I have a crack medical team.

• So the psychiatrist warned me that 1) I would feel weird periods of elation, and 2) that I’m pretty much guaranteed to have, what did she call them, episodes of depression again. Yay? I experienced #1 in the parking lot of Pick and Save a couple weeks ago. That was interesting.

• I’m on 300mg of Wellbutrin now. I also have lunesta for when I can’t sleep. I try not to talk the sleeping pills every night. They taste horrible, but goddamn, as I said in a previous post, they’re good. I just don’t want to rely on them.

• I’m still exhausted at work…can barely work a full day without collapsing. When will that stop?

Ok, back to the normal blog. M says I should write a book, by the way, about this past year. That’s a decent idea.

And what else has been happening? Last week I was in Louisville for a conference. Louisville is a nice town, from what I could tell, anyway. I sat on the city hall square and took in the sun.

More later. I’m getting tired. Good night/morning.