Little Ms. Bree

Those of you who know me know that I have a tendency to be a bit of a perfectionist at times. I like organization. I like order and neatness. Since having the baby I've loosened up a bit- you have to or you will go mad. Yesterday, however, I felt like a member of the Bree Van de Kamp (of Desperate Housewives for those of you who don't watch) fan club. Or at least a clone in my A-line skirt, pointy-toed mules, and sweater set. It's bad enough I'm blonde with a cute haircut!

I hate being late. I hate when people are late meeting me. It's rude. Yet there I was late for my first therapy session. I was almost twitching with irritation. Ok I was twitching with irritation. My husband, the relief group, got stuck in traffic and arrived home with only ten minutes for me to get to my appointment. I then could not get out of my neighborhood to save my life. The great community of Lakeridge decided rush hour was the best time to make the two lane road into one. I thought I was going to have a breakdown. The last thing I wanted when I was already nervous about going to this session was to be tense and late. I finally arrived about 20 minutes late and spent most of the appointment filling out paperwork. When I was finally done I had no idea what to say. Hi, I'm depressed.... I think? I'm not sure- can you tell me?

So to start I must keep a journal each day just jotting down thoughts. Happy or unhappy? Angry? Feeling like other people are noticing you twitch or that you might have gotten Tourettes overnight because you can't stop yelling at random people for no reason at all? Yeah, that is me sometimes. I also must continue my meds even if I don't feel anything and to section out 15-20 minutes a night before bed where I have alone time. Easier said than done. We'll see how all this goes. As it stands now I'm counting the weeks until I'm done with my 8 free sessions.