And I wasn’t even at work until today!

I’ve taken a mini vacation from work to try and get myself together. Didn’t go anywhere, and the strenuous activities were cleaning out the fridge/freezer/cabinets and dropping of donations to Christian Help and getting rid of the recycling.

Mostly, I read. (I’d wanted to go to the arboretum and maybe take pictures, but until late this afternoon, the weather was abysmal.)

Yet I’m still tired.

My goal was to see how I felt at the end of this vacation, and then decide from there if I was going to call the doctor about increasing the dosage on my anti-depressant. I think the answer I’ve gotten is that although I’m better, I’m still not what I’d consider good, so it looks like I need to make a phone call.

It’s a hard decision to make, even though it shouldn’t be, because no matter what I know rationally, it still feels like a personal failure, being unable to get myself out of this on my own.

It’s stupid that the brain and the gut can disagree so soundly. Especially when both are at fault in failing to properly regulate my serotonin levels. :)