The other day I had a text exchange with an old high school friend. Actually, he and I have been friends since kindergarten or the first grade, I can’t recall exactly which — I’m getting old, my memory is going. Anyhoo… he’s going through a divorce too (he’s second actually) and we have been more in touch these days. The other day he was busy selling some stuff on Of course, it was in part to raise so money. My buddy is also unemployed, and has been for some time, and has been scrambling to cobble together a living ever since. I think that he may be working part-time right now, actually. He’s going to school too. But he’s hard at work putting his life right so that he can concentrate on being a dad to his two daughters. He also has a son and daughter from his first marriage. But the other reason, he said, he was selling stuff, was in order to simplify his life, to get rid of the clutter. This is an impulse that I can totally identify with.

Once I learned that I was going to be laid off from my job at the library where I currently work (until August 9th, anyway) my first impulse, or one of my first impulses anyway, was to figure out how I could simplify my life, as well as cut expenses. My life had been significantly simplified upon moving out of my house anyway, in terms of material stuff anyway. I have only the basic pieces of furniture and very few decorations in my apartment, which is just as well at this point since I’ll likely be moving out come the end of September. I’d gotten rid of a bunch of books as well when I moved into this apartment, but that was well before I knew that I was going to lose my job. Once I realized that I would I felt a strong need to especially make changes that would save me money.

So I decided to ween myself of my antidepressant meds. Of course, my therapist was against this, and other people I knew thought it might not be the best idea, but I was determined to try. I made sure that I did it before my prescriptions actually ran out so that in the event that I could not handle being off of them I could go back on immediately. It was a little scarey at first, and even thought at some point I could feel a change it wasn’t so bad that I had to run back to the meds. I feel good now. I have bad moments, sure, but I also often feel really good. I’ve noticed that, while I can get blue at times, my good moods are even better. I think my therapist might point out that this could be a sign of bipolar but I haven’t gone off the rational edge, not yet anyway. I’m staying off the meds, which is saving me a ton of money, not only in the cost of the meds themselves, which are quite expensive but also the price of visiting a psychiatrist every 3 months in order to get the prescriptions renewed. I also discontinued my visits to my therapist, whom I’d been seeing regularly for around two years.

I suppose I could also argue that moving back in with my parents will simplify my life and considerably ease my financial burden, plus allow me to help out my aging parents. They are both in their 80s.  When I lived with them right after I was separated it was kind of rough, but I think that had more to do with the separation than with living with my folks. Things are different now. I’ll be fine. I’ll have to be.



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