Well, the PTSD diagnosis sticks. And explains much - but from the inside of my life? Things aren't wonderful. The company that made my hormones quit making that formulation, and my doctor said 'well, you shouldn't be on it still anyway. Try Black Cohosh. That does the same thing.' Well, after more than a month, I gotta tell you... it doesn't.
My shrink encouraged me to go back to the doctor and tell her that I'm too flaky right now, and under too much stress, to mess with the meds. So doc put me back on hormones.. but not the same ones. And after a month of those plus the Black Cohosh... no change. And rationally, I understand why nobody wants to tweak the anti-depressants until we get the hormone thing straightened out. I'm not in a particularly strong-rationality mode right now, and feel more like I'm sliding down that banana-peel-strewn slope to the precipice and right off into the black hole of depression. I've been down there before, and I really don't wanna revisit that place. Ever.
The knee continues to hurt (no, it's not arthritis); the opposite foot hurts, the depression lurks. I feel like I'm living inside a third or fourth rate, run-down and deserted motel with cracked windows and lurking nasties. Rationally, I know I'm not. Emotionally, that's what it's like, and things are just getting worse.
And meanwhile, out in the real world, I continue to more or less function. I teach, I read, I go out with friends. I did a 5K walk yesterday, and am pleased with my time and even kind of proud of my aches today. People still like being around me, and laugh at my jokes and snarks. But inside my head, things are not good.
