Where have I been? What is the reason for my blog absence, blogsence, if you will? Have I fallen into a wicked meth-addiction? Well, I still have my teeth and extra poundage so all signs point to no meth. Although, my sex drive is low, but that's evidence of so many other problems, like being a 36 year old married woman with kids.
Maybe I've become a raging alcoholic that cares only about her next bottle of booze? Hmm, I do like my wine, but it still takes me three days to down a whole bottle so booze hound is also out.
I know! I've been having mad cap, crazy, sex and don't even have the energy to type! Oh, please, even I can't seriously consider that one.
Alright, I've been sailing around the world visiting exotic ports and I left my laptop at home. Now, this is where people who know me call B.S. because they know I don't like extended travel or anything overly exotic. And by overly exotic I mean anything beyond Mexican food. And by Mexican food I mean Tex-Mex I can get in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area.
So where have I been.....I've been....happy. Can I get a, "Thank You Jesus!"? And a, "Thank You Cymbalta!"?
Yes, it's true. My synapses are now correctly firing thanks to my meds, but one of the side effects seems to be failure to blog (as well as trouble orgasming). It's not like I haven't thought of things to write because I have, but I just haven't written any of it down.
In the past I have felt compelled to write, write, write, but it seems the compulsion was driven by the fantasy of escape. Escape from lawyering, escape from mediocrity, escape from the mundane of dirty diapers and mountains of laundry. But once my brain began to operate properly I no longer felt the desperate need to run.
Man, the brain is a crazy thing (no pun intended). When things stop working up there all kinds of freaky deaky stuff can start happening. For instance, have you ever woke up feeling sad, but knowing there's no reason for sadness? Felt overburdened by the smallest request? Gone into a rage because you keep dropping clothes when trying to wad up all the laundry into a ball you can carry to the washer? Well, that was me before anti-depressants. Don't get me wrong, not every second of every day, but often enough that it was really starting to bum me out.
Two weeks on Cymbalta and it was like I woke up from a really long, really bad dream. Looking back, I think I've been messed up (that's the scientific term) since my first pregnancy and the second round of growing a human in my belly really pushed me over the edge. And it's like the Cymbalta has turned me back into my pre-knocked-up self!
I'm going to go ahead and get to the point so I can go watch "The Sound of Music":
If you feel sad for no reason, if you feel lonely surrounded by people that love you, if you feel like a failure no matter your successes, then run, do not walk, to the nearest shrink and discuss meds. And if you're a stubborn asshole like me that doesn't believe in medication, then read this carefully....I. Was. Wrong.
Now, go and be healthy.