The Other Shoe

Other things I've done since I've been unemployed, that aren't working out so good:

1) Met with a psychiatrist about starting Zoloft.
It took me two weeks of phone tag to get an appointment. I chose this guy because he's in my insurance plan, and G and I don't have any extra cash to be spending on yet ANOTHER out-of-network provider. My insurance company elicits groans from doctors offices, HR professionals, and pretty much everyone at the very mention of the name, so I can't expect much.

When I did finally get to meet this Psychiatrist, we had a lovely talk. He seems like a nice enough guy, and seems smart and knowledgeable about antidepressants and depression. However I didn't leave his office with a prescription. Once he heard that my husband and I would like to become parents someday, the Doc told me to go home and discuss Zoloft with my husband. He talked about how we really don't know the risks of taking antidepressants during pregnancy, and if I get pregnant, the safest thing to do would be to go off the drug, so maybe we should wait until after I have a child to start medicating?

I discussed the situation with G that very evening, and we decided not to put my health on hold indefinitely. If we get pregnant, I'll go off the meds. Until then, I'm taking them.

The next day was Friday, and I was so caught up in the activities of the day, I forgot to call the doc. I called him on the following Monday, left him a voicemail.

That was over a week ago. I left my third voicemail this morning. I told him I needed to hear from him regardless of what he has to say, so I can tie off this loose end. I guess my insurance really does suck, and he's not getting any money from seeing me? Who knows. Who cares.

2) Apartment hunting

This has dominated my life for the last two weeks. I never realized how much I tolerate in a building. All I care about is location. If the building is badly maintained, I don't really care as long as I have heat, hot water, decent water pressure, tight window seals, and a laundry room. If the elevator goes out, I can take the stairs. I want an inner city, urban environment, close to the Metro-North, in a downtown area.

G wants a well-maintained building. He wants enough parking space that he can do routine car maintenance without disturbing anyone. He'd rather live in the country.

I'm working on it. We've seen two places that were unsuitable in both our eyes, for various reasons. I'm on the email and phone and internet collecting listings and TRYING to arrange viewings every day. It's a daunting amount of work.

If we don't find something truly better than where we live now, I will suck up and endure another summer in this horticultural, wasp-infested neighborhood where I have spent the last four years. It would be just plain stupid to do otherwise. It's possible we might be able to upgrade within our current building, but who knows. It's also possible I might find a bigger place down the street from here, closer to downtown, farther from the gardeners. Who knows.

Those are two pretty big things. Things that it took me a long time and a lot of chutzpah to speak out about to G, or to my doctors, to realize that changes in these areas would significantly improve our lives, and will be worth the cost and effort to do them.

I haven't given up yet. It's just frustrating. I fight my depression some days far worse than others, and today I'm fighting hard. So now I've gotten these two issues out of my head and on "paper." Now I need to eat something nutritious, I can do that. Then I need to get back on the horse and call the realtors.

Then I'm going to shove my shoes into a locker and go skating.