PART 4
Somewhere in the second month, I began to run out of..
🕑 Added 2022-07-15 12:21:32 +0000 UTC
PART 4
Somewhere in the second month, I began to run out of antidepressants and the prescription for them completely turned into dust from time. I felt that rural life makes it easier for me and I can try to get off them, but I'm not seeing a doctor right now. I reduced the dosage and it turned out to negate the withdrawal syndrome. Before that, I took them for 2 years.
It sounds strange, I liked that I felt the depth of my personal crisis. I thought it was cool to have more contact with myself. And it went, "I don't like who I've become, why I'm so stupid." I decided that I needed to get creative.
Everyone found something to do and I also had time to draw. This kept me in shape for another month or two. I was redrawing pictures from a book on the history of Ancient Greece, which I took with me on cardboard boxes from the Post Office. And I was pleased with myself when I finished the drawing. I also got carried away with collecting flowers. I always wanted fresh flowers on the windowsill.
My usual hobby is photography, but the neighbors suspected me of being a Russian scout and asked me not to photograph the village and the surrounding area.
We chipped in on the antenna and the guys installed it on the roof. I was able to work from Bodya's computer. My job is related to communicating with people, as you know. When I read the news, especially during the victims of Bucha and Irpen, it became difficult for me to work. I was in a kind of stupor and could only think about the war again. I had to reformat my work to offline, this was enough to throw money on food products.
At the end of spring, Anya left for Germany. Her family turned out to be alive, but all their possessions were destroyed, except the car. She needed to earn money to help her family. When she left, I partially took over her duties and I didn't have time to draw. Then I started running, and the guys signed up for a local sport club. But soon, we decided to return to our city. At first, I was glad. I had a surge of strength from moving, and then their gradual decline. Now I haven't worked for three weeks, for reasons that are unclear to me. Most likely, a depressive episode.
I have a hard feeling when I go to Facebook and see how much my friends are doing. It's a shame that I'm not as useful and I'm not bringing victory closer as they are. It's a shame to write something in my feed, because it seems small. It's hard to be in the company of other people. It's scary to go to a psychiatrist, it seems that he will tell me something devaluing. But there is not much choice, sports and walking do not affect my condition and I need to work, but I have no strength.
I also decided to move out of the apartment I rented for the last six months. I don't want to live with my neighbors when they come back. I decided, but I don't have the strength yet either. I hope I can help myself. It seems that's all for now.
