I'm trying to get back in the blogging saddle and write more frequently, since my hellish first year is all but over. I won't promise to write every single day - a minimum of twice a week sounds more reasonable. Writing is still cathartic for me, even though I am finally getting a healthy daily dose of social interaction with the other grad students. I'm starting to feel less awkward and clueless all the time, but I still think that I cling to my seat a little too much because I'm afraid of my lab mates being aware of my presence. That thought/sentence hardly makes any sense, but I can't really clarify it. I guess the social phobia is still hanging on for dear life, despite my shrink throwing some Lexapro at me two months before turning me over to yet another new resident. That reminds me - I need to set up a fucking appointment with the newbie shrink before my Adderall runs out. I don't like having to be seen at all, but I have to play by health insurance rules if I want to remain somewhat functional. The initial appointment is the worst. All I want to have to say is, "I'm depressed, afraid of people, and I can't fucking concentrate. Give me some good drugs and I'll get out of your hair". Instead, they ask me to rehash my entire psychiatric history, even though I can see that they've already printed out the relevant information from my online chart. Blah.
I was gonna write about what I did in lab today, but now I'm too tired and cranky. I guess I lied when I said this was still cathartic. Better luck tomorrow, maybe. On Friday the 13th, no less.
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