A bit fuzzy...

that is my brain this week. So last Friday, I saw the Licensed Nurse Practioner at a psychiatrists office for my "picking issues". It was a good appointment. I did not feel like a complete loser. He helped "normalize" some of my picking behaviors and said that it is a basic human behavior. But of course, I had to tell him that I suppose it is...but it might not be if you don't allow some sores to heal for months because you can't help yourself and you pick at it until it is a bloody open wound. So now I am diagnosed with: Depression with Obsessive Compulsive Traits. He was trying to make sure I was not Bipolar at the beginning of the session. He gave me the basic "Bipolar" questionnaire that included questions like "Do have times of extreme energy?" "Do you ever talk non-stop?" "Do you have problems sleeping?" Now come on, you that know me know that "Manic" is not something that happens to me all that often. Of course, I have a few seconds of pure excitement here and there but no bouts of pure, elated mania...sometimes, I think that would be nice.

Since I was already on Prozac, Mr. Nurse said that is what they typically perscribe someone with OCD traits. So he increased my dose 20 milligrams. I started that on Sunday. By Tuesday night and Wed morning I was a walking fucking zombie...It got rid of my urge to pick....and to do anything else for that matter. I talked with Depressionista on Tuesday night...or rather I mumbled some basic responses to what she said to me. Luckily, my therapist saw me on Wed morning and told me that I should probably call the doc's office back and ask if there is anyway I could cut back the dose. I did that yesterday. I am going to increase 20mg's every other day...not every day. I feel better today. I go back and see him in six weeks.

I don't think I have mentioned recently that MY CORN IS GONE!! This is great....but it means I don't have to go back and see that hot doctor. Unless I can come up with some other foot malady. hmmm....

This weekend I turn 36 years old. Which, of course, calls for a Girl's Night. My child is going to grandma's. My husband is leaving town. So if everything goes right, I will have the house to myself on Saturday. 36 seems so much older to me. I am now venturing into the "late thirties". How did this happen? Oh, well.....I guess I'll continue to enjoy the ride.