Too much to do and no time. Doctor appointments, procedures scheduled, medicine changed and ordered. I have no energy for this.
I want to do it though. I want to make those calls. I want the apartment nice. I want to try to get better.
My obgyn finally said “Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome”. It feels almost too little too late, but maybe not. I have to wait to see what my psychiatrist puts me on, Dr Pinnell can’t treat the PCOS weight gain until I’m off the abilify because it causes gain. Which, why give that to a fat woman anyway? But I digress.
It’s made me antsy. It helps, then it’s too much. Still panicky, but not nonstop. A good start, but I’ve gained 7 lbs in two weeks and that’s not right.
Working on birthdays. Working on me. I want to live. I want more than the half life again.