It is kind of SAD

Maybe, just MAYBE,  one of the items on my "problem list" that was printed on my paperwork from last week's doctor appointment for a sinus infection, is the culprit to my recent couch and chocolate addiction? I don't think the five day z-pac is intended for such an extravaganza. I took this quick photo with my phone, as I was unaware that they were going to let me actually leave with this bit of fabulousness to put on my refrigerator, you know, right next to the report cards. As far as other things I was unaware of? Items 1, 2, 5 and 6. (Item 3 is debatable.)

I do recall making a doctor's appointment, almost three years ago, because I felt like I was coming unhinged. It wasn't a "how can I get out of bed and why is there no joy" kind of thing, but more of a holycowmyworldfeelsinsaneistheresomepossiblewaytoslowthismessdown?! kind of thing. Okay, so I guess I will own the "Anxiety State Unspec". The nurse that day seemed very on board and understanding of my plight as I explained all of the stressors in my world at the time, and my inability to prioritize or differentiate between an actual issue needing attention and falling apart because we were out of bread. When my doctor came in, he decided to focus on my marriage, its healthiness in terms of a regular sex life (do I need to say the doctor was a male?) and he told me what book I needed to read to fix my marriage. The nurse tried to interject some of the items she apparently listened to me say. I know sometimes you have to fix home first, but believe me when I say I had other mighty things on my list that day.

Let me interrupt myself here to say that I do believe in things like depression and anxiety disorders, and take them seriously. I would not laugh or judge a person who is struggling and trying to heal. But this? This list up here? I cannot take myself that seriously. I hope if any of you truly have symptoms associated with these mental health diagnoses, you get better care and advice than reading a book and getting your groove back on, plus a paper bag of anti-depressants that would've kicked in after about two weeks or so.

Apparently the "allergic rhinitis" that brings me in every six months or so is not important, or relevant, enough to make it to my problem list. It is also not warranted that I am asked how I am doing with this plethora of issues that I allegedly had one day. Nobody is concerned that I am not taking any medications. I didn't give them much of a chance (as in I took one) before deciding to try some exercise and healthier food (read: dark chocolate). They are not concerned that seeing all of these items in print might make me anxious or unable to adjust. Where else should my depressive disorder be specified, and how the hell have I gotten out of bed for the past three years?

Does it matter that I feel like the world is completely off kilter every February, or so? (Hot damn, it's coming right around the corner!) I don't mind the cold or the snow, but once that dreary rain hits...yikes! Gray slush? Gads! It's like a cyclical thing, like oh, let's say the Seasons. As if they Affect me somehow, like in a Disorder kind of way.

So anyway, now I feel an Elaine Benes-like need to swipe my medical chart! I would like a fresh start. Oh and by the way, at first glance I figured the plantar fascia thing was a throwback to the plantars warts I had frozen off my feet over eight years ago (again, very relevant and worth having displayed at every visit). Just for kicks, I decided to ask my friend google, and I felt a little uneasy about what I found. That diagnosis with the fibromatosis seems like something I would have noticed, or a physician might have mentioned...out loud! Nodules in the arch of my feet that make walking painful? No thank you, and how did I not notice. (And why hasn't anybody checked back in with that?)

I don't know why this whole thing amuses me to the point where I felt compelled to share it with all of you. Maybe laughter is the best medicine for whatever it is that I have. And chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate! I suppose exercise wouldn't necessarily hurt, but it certainly could.