scary

I had a scary moment today. I realized that I could not remember the last time I had taken my daily antidepressant/antianxiety medication. It was at work and I ended up being quite distracted throughout my entire shift. Realizing there is a reason for the steady, broken feeling of a long-lasting depressive mood is however semi-liberating.

When I got home though, I couldn't find my meds. The last time I took them (sometime early last week) they were on the dining room table. Stephen would never move my meds more than a few feet, just as I would never move his--it is a room mate pact. I know he didn't move them. I moved them. I put them somewhere, shuffled them to the side, got them lost in a pile of something. I couldn't find them and I couldn't find them. I swear I thought I was going to die from panic. I ended up cleaning my entire room in hopes they were lost under a pile of clothing. In the end I found a sample pack of the pills and took two of those to make my regular dosage. I don't feel panic anymore, but I am still in my mood--my funk.

I just realized the pills are most likely in the trunk of my car. Living out of a random car in order to make all of homecoming run smoothly never bodes well for keeping one's life organized.

Time to read--this week I am focusing on my honors thesis. Next week: who knows.