It only just occurred to me that people actually read this blog. I mean, the site gives you a count on how many "reads" your blog entries get. So there are a whole bunch of people out there who read what I write about my life. And that's a good feeling, actually. To know that I'm not just talking to myself. And to know that maybe someone sees something I'm going through and knows that it's not just them. Or that I'm doing worse, so they've got something to be thankful for. Or that I'm doing better, so there's some hope. Something like that. Of course, when I'm properly depressed, all of that seems ridiculous and nothing can make me feel any better.

But back to the checking in part of this post. I'm sort of keeping up the things I'd resolved to do. I'm trying to take care of my skin so that one day I can look at my face in a mirror and not feel like I'm so disgustingly pimpled that no one will ever talk to me. Okay, that's a little over dramatic. But seriously, I really don't have good skin and I really don't need that kind of concrete evidence to help set off my depressive spirals.

I've also been lifting weights. Two days now. Continuing on my goal to transform my awkward, useless body into something I can enjoy being inside of. Clear skin would be a major help. And some upper-body strength. Unfussy, unfemme-y hair would also be nice, but I'm still working on that. I cut it last night. Took off several inches and it got even shorter when it dried into its normal curly self. I think I'm pleased with it. Except that it might fall into the category of "cute," which is not really what I'm aiming for. But I think it could be alright. Maybe I can even manage some awesome spikey hairdos with suitable amounts of gel. I'm still trying to avoid straightening after two years of feeling pretty enslaved to the hair straightener, which left my hair fried and even more frizzy than normal.

I keep having dreams and thoughts about getting a tattoo, but I'm pretty damn sure that isn't a good idea. And I've pretty much gotten over the urge to get more piercings, since I don't wear earrings in the basic two that I have, and one of them is currently sort of infected.

This ideal body also doesn't have breasts. Or has breasts that can easily be hidden with a binder. But I'm trying not to concentrate on that part. It's too hot for me to bind these days. I already feel horrible in the heat, which keeps me from going out too much. So no binding these days, just baggy clothes.

And no thoughts about sex right now. Too complicated. Can't tell what I want to be and what I want to fuck. Not that thoughts about sex come easily. But on that subject, I'm going to try and adjust the meds I'm on. Currently, prozac and effexor, hoping for something that works better and doesn't screw with my sex drive. Unless this is just my depression. Or just some other malfunction of my fucked up self.

Regardless, changing my meds gives me a direction to start with. I'm going to try to get on Wellbutrin and possibly Lexapro. Generics, if I can get them. But I'm having a little bit of trouble with my prescribers. I hate them. My nurse practitioner got worried and referred me to a psychiatrist who scared the shit out of me. So I don't want to go to the scary, scary psychiatrist, but I don't really want to go to the nurse either. I feel like she abandoned me. And I feel like she hasn't been doing enough to help to allow her to get upset about it. So.....I want to see someone new, I think. But at the same time, I'm about to start a program that could allow for some psychiatric care. Yes, that's what I should do. Keep taking what I'm taking and wait for Monday and my intake. Except that I'm about to run out of part of my effexor prescription, which would bump me down to 150 instead of 187.5 but I don't really want to contact my failed psych team. But the withdrawl on effexor is HORRIBLE. Maybe I could do it if I had someone to hold me or something, but since I'm not feeling too close to anyone, that's not going to happen. But lots of milano cookies and television might help me through it.

Enough rambling about my mental state. Lots of people might be viewing the posts of this blog, but god knows no one will be able to get through all of this.