Transitioning has been a very bumpy road for me, as well, until I realized that it was something that was imperative for me to do. I couldn’t continue to live, without it.

Then came the understanding that it was not a magic pill. I still have to live with *me*.

The decades of misery, the “poor me” feeling that was my natural state of being, had become deeply ingrained, a seemingly unbreakable habit.

The “poor me” exsistence is difficult to shake, but not impossible.

I’ve found that helping others, while maintaining healthy boundaries, takes me out of myself, my tired old internal refrain.

Navel-gazing, introspection, is dangerous, especially when taken to extremes.

Focusing on others, helping, never blaming them, has given me the life that I always wanted, didn’t think possible.

My point is that I have to get going, start doing positive things for others,(always with boundaries), action cures depression.( I was on the maximum dose of effexor for twenty years. We are gradually decreasing it now.)

Many times I just don’t feel like it. I don’t want to do anything, but think, reflect, analyze myself.

I’ve found the cure in simply getting up, getting ready, and *doing something*, even if it’s just a walk around the block.

I often tell myself, “Louise, you don’t have to like it. You just have to do it.”

Then, every time, I’m glad that I did, and begin to like it. I’ll bet that any therapist would agree that really listening to someone else, really trying to understand what they are communicating, trying to help *them*, gets them out of their own mind,(a dangerous place, especially if you stay there all the time).

😍😘😇🙏🏼