Today I feel like I need a fanny pack. Stop judging me for a second and keep reading, you may then continue judging me or walk away slowly as to not be noticed hence avoiding the wrath.
I need a big fanny pack where I can stuff a bunch of people who I've shrunken down to size so I can then zip that little sucker shut and commence slamming said fanny pack into a wall.
I'll bet that didn't go where you thought it was, did it? I'm very very irritable today. I feel like I am perpetually premenstrual. On a very imagined ledge whose edge I feel like I'm being pushed up against only to be pulled back just before I fall.
I am seeing my doctor tomorrow, sadly for us all he isn't the one to dispense the drugs I need. I have good hopes that tomorrow he will tell me my A1C has come down to an even more acceptable number which will put me in a great mood! After all, I have been dedicating 4 days a week to the gym and eating healthier and taking my meds. So if I should go in tomorrow and be told the opposite is happening, then I just don't quite know if I'll be able to drag myself into the office. I fear I might kick a dent into my car door and set off a few car alarms while kicking the shit out of other peoples cars. Then I will likely call my primary care physician (from jail perhaps?) and tell him I made a big mistake and I need to live the rest of my days out in a medicated haze. I am desperately trying to keep from going back on anti depressants. I love pharmaceuticals, I love them all! But I don't love fighting with Mike because it has been 4 months since I fained enough interest in our marriage to put out.
That sounded pretty awful didn't it. I should make myself a bit clearer. I do love Mike very much and I am interested in my marriage, however, when I am under the effects of Lexapro, Zoloft, Celexa, or Wellbutrin I am generally a pleasant person be around. That doesn't translate the same in the bedroom. I quote for you from one of the funniest and most honest books I've read in some time. "A bottle of Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft, or Effexor. Maybe some Lexapro. All of those will make you forget about sex. They're chemical castrators, believe me. The best side effect is you'll not only be frigid, you'll be the happiest frigid woman alive." I couldn't have said it better myself. I should add, however, this advise was given to a woman in the south who was struggling with keeping it in her pants. She wanted to wait until marriage and was struggling with her urges. Basically that's what I'm going through, the castration that is. It sucks. It sucks for him and it sucks doubly for me cause I have that good ol Catholic guilt. When I say no I feel like I've punched a puppy in the gut. I almost inserted baby in place of puppy but come on I dream of slapping babies around from time to time so you all would be judging saying I enjoy making him sad! You judging judgers!!! So I go off the meds, Mike gets lucky and occasionally frightened because I'm screaming obscenities and throwing things against the floor (my purse got it the other day). He tried telling me I was going to break something, but all I had in my purse was my glucometer which is housed in a cushy pouch.
Good gracious, I really don't know how I continue looking some of you in the face. Some days I wonder what people are thinking when they read the sludge that comes out of my brain. Other days I pretend that none of you actually read it, that's how I can continue to show my face around the office. Mike married me crazy and all so he isn't allowed to complain or judge the crazy. He is only allowed to observe quietly or walk out of the room and let the crazy subside.
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