For a few reasons, such as my mood, attitude, sudden additional poundage, my psychiatrist went, "EEP!!" and changed my medication immediately. We are going back to the only thing that has ever really made a dent, the Prozac/Wellbutrin cocktail. (hee hee I said "cock"tail.) (I so have a Beavis and Butthead streak.)Fuck the sexual side effects. Honestly I really don't care if I ever have sex again. The husband doesn't particularly care if I ever have an orgasm again. As long as I start acting like a civil human being and he can have sex occasionally.
That didn't come out right. Shit. Oh well, whatever.
I think I used too much conditioner last night. My hair feels dirty. Blech.
My doctor also agrees with some of you out there who shall remain nameless Anon that I don't have enough to do Laggin and need another appointment in my day. A week from today I shall go make a new friend. Fuck. I hate therapist, counselors, whatever. I hate talking about myself. I hate whining. I love bitching. Somehow I need to switch my thought process about this to being able to bitch about life. However, easier said than done.
BTW, Dibs, blogs are for whining and bitching and complaining. If anyone out there is blogging the happy chronicles and adventures of their life... I am not reading it.
Why did I absolutely fall in love with AxMen yesterday? I screeched at anyone who came within 3 feet of the remote or tv for the 6 hours or whatever it was on. Yes, Ax Men. As in loggers. They were either middleaged rednecks or baby boys all with chew. But god forbid we change the channel. The husband had to go to the store for me to pick up my new Rx and food for the rats.
It was supposed to snow yesterday. I think it did. Everwhere but here. I would run from the radar to the window and back to AxMen. No snow for us. This has been the weirdest winter.
Anyone know how to drop 15 pounds? I don't diet and I hate exercise. Maybe I will try sleeping with a Denise Austin video under my pillow and use my exercise ball as an office chair. Whaddya think?
I had my annual job review last week. That was the day I wanted to quit my job and go back to bed. They love me here. I am like 4 1/2 stars out of 5. I lost half a star because no ones perfect and I don' t like to talk to new people. I asked how to make more money. She said get my master's degree. I ask in what. She says counseling psychology. I laughed. I hate talking to people. She wants me to get a degree in counseling. Bwahahahaha!
Did I mention I cut my hair? Do you ALL know that anyway? I am getting used to it. It still feels wrong when I wash it. One of my male co-workers came by my office today and wondered if I got a hair cut. Nah! Not much at all. Only about 10 INCHES. OF. HAIR. IS. GONE. Sometimes I am afraid that through a mis flip of the curling iron it may go all Carol Brady on me.
Friday night I did my first happy hour in about 12 years. Oh. My. Gosh-Golly. Liz caught me at a weak moment. I said okay faster than I could think of an excuse for no. I was terrified all day Friday and nearly got into a car accident on my way there. I survived. The husband survived.
He called me 3 times between 5:05 and 5:20. Last conversation:
Husband: can you stop at Taco Bell on the way home?
Moi: When?
Husband: Tonight.
Moi: Tonight? Like when? (I am thinking he totally forgot I was going out, even though I said something 3 times today already)
Husband: After your Happy Hour thingy...
Moi: Oh. Sure I can do that.
Husband: Great. I will give the kids a snack until you get home.
What. The. Fuck?
Moi: Wait, what? I am getting Taco Bell for everyone?
Husband: Well, yeah...
Yes, it was all a plot to make sure I didn't stay out to late. I pigged out on giant soft pretzels and deep-fried mushrooms. He felt kinda stupid when I got home and handed off food, but didn't eat any.
Sigh. I am hungry.
6 comments:
I like this blog. It seems "normal". Maybe not wanting to have any direction, but being forced into a certain direction is a good thing. As for the sex ... hmmm, maybe that's more the Prozac than the Wellbutrin. The Wellbutrin had a curbing, but not killing affect for me. Not that I've ever had sex, because I'm not married and that would be wrong. And for the last thought on husband: "Mark, I will not be home in time to get the kids a meal at a decent hour. You'll have to handle it." No?
Ok, first, you started the sex part with "Honestly" and then said it didn't "come out right". Now I could make another Beavis and Butthead comment, but I won't. What I will say, is that what you said came out honestly. That's ok, hun. Just like in therapy ... there's a difference between honesty and whining. It's whining when you don't want to change it. I see you wanting change. Actually, I see you NEEDING change (well, not necesarily with your sex life...but life in general).
As for therapy, print out what you wrote here and hand it to your therapist. It's pretty much a summary of all that's wrong in your life and advises them of your hesitancy to engage in therapy.
Finally, when I go see the therapist for my increasingly dysfunctional relationship with Eldest, I don't view it as whining or even complaining about her. It's about (a) what do I need to fix in my approach to make me deal with her better, (b) which will increase my happiness (wrong word), decrease my misery (?) and (c) encourage her to behave in similar life-improving ways. Isn't that pretty much what you need too? An approach you can use in your life?
It's not whining. It's "how do I do this better"?
And as for Taco Bell? Sorry, I would not have been nice about this one.
I wish we lived in the same time zone -- I could send you to my therapist who is a great person to talk to and very bitching-tolerant.
I hope the old new drugs make things better. I'm definitely not one to talk, but I was reading your post and hoping your husband would end up with a bowl of pintos n cheese dumped on his head at the end of the story. Believe me, I understand being with someone who can't comprehend that you get to have a life of your own.
I'm so sorry the other drugs didn't work out. And hair stress sucks. Especially too much conditioner. And please don't buy a gun (unless you need one for protection from a stalker or something).
{giant hug}
I agree with Laggin. Take your blog entries. Just hand them over. And let the conversation begin there. That way you don't have to instigate the bitch, but talk about what your words mean.
So what am I doing at lunch today? Looking at old blog posts to print out.
Thanks for the suggestion.
PS - Laggin, I did catch the "come out right", but decided to let that one slide... ;)
I was so glad you came that night - it was wonderful to see you 'out'...
xox
wv = "cleavo"
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