Buffalo wings and beer.

Can this soul be saved?

My doctor sure thinks it can. Poor gal. She prescribed the Prozac again as I knew she would. Again, she told me that depression is an illness just like diabetes and needs to be controlled with medication. Something within me hates believing that I'm stuck taking these things the rest of my life and that's why I fight it with every inch of my being until I find myself spiraling down a deep hole in which I can't climb out of. That's when I make an appointment with her and she gives me shit for not seeing her sooner.

This time I asked for a referral. A psychotherapist. His name is Dr. Pupko and I made the appointment for Thursday of next week. He sounded nice enough. Maybe now I can talk to someone honestly about my problems instead of hiding bits and pieces of them within myself. You know, Pete's a good listener when he wants to be but I can't tell him absolutely everything.

I have another headache today. My 3rd in a row which is very unusual. I never get headaches. I'm hungry too, more so than usual. Ahh, my poor body is having a massive sugar urge.
The other night I had the most terrible craving for buffalo wings with beer. Two things I haven't had in a very long time. I think I was in my 20's when I had both of them together last. It's like pizza and beer. God, what a great combination but there's just something about the hot spicy sauce on those wings that make the beer go down so smooth.

*sigh...ok. Enough dreaming.

I think I'll walk outside today. It's about +6 degrees. Yeah, cold enough to actually get these thoughts out of my head.

Trin
Trin