Therapy, grocery shopping, and lunch leave Catherine a tired girl. I want to try to clean but will have to find a little cavern of hidden energy in order to do so. I did buy some flowers for the coffee table at least.
In therapy we talked about how I am fake around people because I am afraid they can't handle me and my opinions. I am afraid that if I show who I really am I will be abandoned. This inauthenticity leaves me feeling depressed, unknown and different. I have to set out on a slow path to honesty, goodness, and Catherinedom. I like to make my name an empire, a philosophy, a religion.
My antidepressant is being raised by 50 milligrams and the doctor claimed that this should take me from teetering between depression and melancholy to being in the melancholy realm or better. I hope better. Hope me better, hope me well, hope me, hope me out of hell. Yes I made a little rhyme...
Now to resting, now to finding the doldrum monster budding energy creator and fall in worship of him in order to get moving.
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