Meatballs and Medication

Watched the animated movie "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" with lunch today-very very good. I had no idea what to expect (other than bulbous animated heads and jumbo eyeballs) but the flick was awesome. Great sense of humor and an awesome storyline with great characters. Some of my favorite parts were:

The cameraman/doctor/pilot/comedian saying "I need a celery-STAT."
Flint's dad-eyebrows/character/computer illiterate-ness/monkey translation-ness.
Jello castle-I will have glorious dreams for many days to come.
Fun science-lingo (not overdone, but done just enough)
Gummy bears!

And I'm usually not one for monkeys-but Steve was all right. It was gross, but totally funny when Sam thought he was throwing "chocolate snowballs" and it... well, it wasn't "chocolate snowballs." And Steve has a translator and it was hilarious watching him try to touch Manny's mustache and listen to the translator-"mustache... mustache..." 

In more serious news, still in a depression slump. Appointment tomorrow with the only affordable clinic that had an opening or would help me. Very frustrating and even more depressing trying to get help and realizing that without healthcare of a jump your options can be very limited. 

I don't think this doctor can prescribe meds, but I'm hoping he can make some suggestions and help me find someone who can look at my prescription and my options. It took me a long time to come to terms with medicating for depression and I've gone through another personal hurdle contemplating changing meds for something that packs a little more punch than my Lexapro. 

Someone once told me, "If you had diabetes, you'd take your insulin shots-wouldn't you?" I try to remember that whenever I feel like medication is just another thing that emphasizes my inability to succeed or survive in the world. With my depression/thought patterns I'm constantly tearing myself down and focusing on my flaws and negatives-so much so that I end up suicidal and thinking that I'm of no use in this world. Often times when I get that low I feel like I was simply meant to die, that I'm not fit to go on. 

But I know that I have a place here. That I see things in a way that not everyone does-and not just the depressive goggles I have, but the way I appreciate catching sight of a worm in a flower bed or seeing a beaver swimming in the lake. Even listening to Iroh's trucker-snores and wondering how many people don't notice that their pets snore or wink or have special mannerisms. And I have a special guy that loves me dearly and makes sure that I feel wanted and that I belong and I am cherished. 

Fiance-I'm so glad I found you and I can't thank you enough for the support you've given me (especially these last few weeks). Not everyone can get me to talk as openly as you do and more than that I appreciate all the love and laughs!

As for the cats: Millie has been exceedingly cuddly and loving lately-I'm a little suspicious. She's not one to be held but yesterday she was stalking me in the kitchen and wouldn't back off until I'd picked her up and pet her two or three times. Iroh seems to need some decongestants and has developed a little bald patch at the base of his tail (neurotic hair pulling). The fiance is going to take him to the vet as soon as we have the extra cash and hopefully they'll have some answers (maybe kitty Valium).