I see my psychiatrist again…
Is that a bizarre thing to be excited about?
The last time I was in Mental Hospital, there was an old chap called Steven. Steven had advanced dementia and got excited about lots of things – pressing alarm buttons, dropping his pants, spelling out signs and counting any numbers printed anywhere.
I actually envied him…
It was my birthday earlier this month – couldn’t have cared less (to be honest I wasn’t expecting to see it anyway)
Same with Christmas and New Year – these “dates” mean nothing to me. I just can’t get excited about anniversaries of any nature.
Oh how I miss “excitement” – how nice it would be to wake up with a spring in my step?
I think it may be starting to come back though.
I just wish I knew why, then I could take steps to ensure it increases and stays.
So why am I excited about seeing my psychiatrist? In the absence of any light at the end of my tunnel of despair, I’m hoping that there’s some change in medication that he can prescribe to make my world a little brighter and make me a bit more Dylan or ZeBaDee and a little less Brian
Dylan: Chill out guys, I’ve got something stashed that just might help.
Brian: Dylan, we don’t have time to indulge in recreational activities…
ZeBadDee: Today, one soldier, tomorrow, the world! And then perhaps… three more soldiers!