In a couple of hours I'm going to the doctor - an intervention. I don't want to be a burdon to my mother, she has her own life to lead with her own responsibilities. I've always been able to take care of everything for myself. As the job I have comes with no benefits, I just can't fork out the money for doctors and medication - it doesn't come cheap in S.A and the so called 'state' or 'nhs' is shockingly bad and I would probably go in for depression and come out with an amputation. So she has booked the appointment for later and will get the medication I need.
I told her it doesn't solve the problem. I guess if there is a chemical imbalace that can be righted with drugs - well we shall see.
A friend bought me a little pebble from the top of table mountain when he climbed it - it was given with such a joyous heart, I've kept it. I slept with it in my hand the whole night - just to remember that time because it was a good time, when I smiled and was more 'fierce'.
I'm a bit nervous going to the doctor and laying bare the fears and that - actually down right scared. I think what really scares me is if this doesn't work.
I think I need to immerse myself in the projects that do make me happy: my poetry - looking around for a publisher, Photography: I'm no geneous but I do like to point and click and have some amazing "fluke" shots: Spanish - I used to take lessons and was coming on oooooookay - I may not afford the lessons anymore a friend did give me a collection of self teach CDs....just got to get out of this quick sand first.