Monday, September 10, 2012


Since my mother died two weeks ago, I can’t sleep and am crabby as a rascal. Paperwork, financial woes, sadness, panic…ick.

I thought I was entitled to some time to grieve…but friends are making me think this is abnormal, that I need drugs.

I hate taking stupid drugs. I used some stuff on my sore knees that made me feel as if I were croaking—see below.

The signs of depression are loss of appetite, sleep problems (two nites recently where I never did get to sleep), poor concentration, feeling hopeless, memory probs, and lack of interest in activities you used to love.

I have some, if not most.

But I am not wangling from ride to a doc, sitting around, blah blah…you’re depressed, take this, don't operate heavy thoughts or machinery.

I am going to wait it out.

I once went to a shrink in DC—after being the survivor of a crime. She said well, look what happened to you—no wonder you feel horrible. I think this may be similar.

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