Hiding in plain sight

Things are seriously heating up for me right now, and I honestly can't say whether it's a hell of my own making or not.

I think I've told you I've been through three pretty severe bouts of depression in my life, the last one being about 15 years ago. While I thank all the pestilent gods it's been a long while since I've had to deal with The Drama, I suspect I've somehow awoken the giant again. Possibly the miscarriage skewed my hormones to the point where they didn't know how to return to whatever I had considered 'normal' before. Whatever it is, it leaves me with a bit of a problem.

The IUI Program The Boy and I are involved in wants me to see a psychiatrist about the miscarriage and they've been pushing it pretty hard. They now want me to see the big cheese, Dr. P**** before we're able to pass go and collect $200 in the form of starting another cycle around the beginning of March. I've been telling all and sundry that I'm fine, I made my peace with it and all I want is to look ahead and no one seems to believe that I know my own mind. That, or they see something in me that tells them I'm off my nut and need help. And I might just be.

My sleep has been fine and my eyes and hair are bright; those are the flashing, blinking lights that tell me I'm sick again. Thing is, I'm turning into a raging hermit and can't seem to stop myself. I screen phone calls, avoid people online and haven't seen my best friend in far too long to be considered polite. I also spend the better part of the day concentrating on my mounting list of Life Failures; I don't think that's healthy. (duh)

So if I see someone primarily about the miscarriage, I don't want all the Poor Me stuff to leak out and they kick me out of the program because I have to go on meds for months. I doubt I have the energy or the mental acuity to be convincing enough at this point.

I seriously need a job, if only to get my ass out of the damn house and to achieve some balance.