The heck it ain't my fault.

I've been laying in bed thinking about this forcing myself to do stuff. Before my daughter died I struggled to maintaing all the precepts of IPSRT that I had learned and found useful. But the disorder made everything a battle. Bedtime, dinner times, wake times. Everything was work. Then this.

So immediately I saw my pdoc and told him that I knew the grief was going to put all the other work in jeopardy. I asked to be put back on an anti depressant. I was able to wean myself off of them, 3 years ago. I had been doing pretty good. But I knew this was going to happen. He refused.

Eleven days ago the bottom fell out of my world. The grief became worse than the funeral. It hasn't let up. I am making rash decisions (who's there to stop me?), lost appetite, spend most of the day in bed broke off communications with those who couldn't understand why I wasn't over it, which was most everybody, (I'd sell a kidney for a hug (not virtual), I am completely off of the IPSRT and now I find I can't remember if I take my meds or not. Heck I can't even force myself out to buy groceries.
I can see where this is heading and right now I embrace it.

So why should I contact my pdoc? My therapist tried to get him to prescribe antidepressants to know avail and she defers to him.

So wheres that leave me? Support organizations that want me to grieve on their timetable? I have been abandoned and feel thoroughly disposable.