So I mention to my guy that I have placed a picture of him on da blog. He immediately begins telling me of what a private person he is and how he'd rather not be on da blog. But I tell him, too late, and I'll respect you and not put anything too personal (except a few private conversations and pictures here and there). You know, the usual. He agreed. I have taken him to da blog before and so I hereby consider this a test. Can he handle me, or not?
Does he read da blog, or not. This will be a great way to find out. If he's interested, then he's reading this and will surely Notice that I have posted Another picture of us. I assured him that only my Friends and a few clients come on here, and Everything is Otay Buttwheat. Otay. Now that we have that over with.
I am on week #2 with no medication. Folks, you can make fun of people who take meds all you want, but take it from a professional, if it works, do it. For now, I am on a bit of a roller coaster emotionally, but so far, so good. I've only wanted to have road rage a few times a day. I've not injured anyone yet, but thought about it more than usual. This too shall pass I am sure. I have also chosen this special time in my life to quit caffeine. Because I can't do anything half way. I have consequently felt better today than I have in a Really Long Time. And this is good. I did run over a dead squirrel and start crying, but this phase shouldn't last too long. It's true that I have alot of "things" going on right now. "Stressors" as my "Medication Therapist" told me. At our last meeting, I told him the quick run down of the previous 30 days. I prefaced it by saying that I am really proud of myself for handling all of this so well, and knowing that things will work out in the end. I said to him, I don't want to be on medication at all at some point soon and this is my goal. Medication Free. My summation of the previous 30 days went something like this:
- my car got stolen out of my driveway
- with my entire business in it equalling about 14k
- insurance isn't covering it for now
- the man who molested me as a child for years died last week
- the thieves drained my banking account
- and some "doctor" in Birmingham who claims to be in love with me who had met me once and wants to help me get a new car by sending me $ found out via my blog that i have a significant other and now he won't help me get a new car, because he feels betrayed (I never said I wanted to date you!)(And you Did have strings attached, didn't you... check yourself!)
- oh, and speaking of Daddy issues, my Dad won't return my calls or emails.
All that with a bit of a smile on my face because I have gotten good at letting myself Feel as something happens, accept it, and move on. And everything in my life seems to be worth laughing at sooner or later. He looks at me and suggests a new anti depressant. I had just gotten done telling him that I don't want to be on an antidepressant. Folks, I'm not even on an antidepressant. I haven't been in over a year. And what's so wrong with being a little depressed now and then? I used antidepressants for a year, and they were awesome. I took myself off and remained on a benzo extended release. Anyhow, I said to him, after he gave me the run down of all the ssri's now available, I said, "I find it interesting that I just told you that I don't want an antidepressant, and you act as if you haven't heard me. If you had experienced half of what I just experienced plus caring for two small boys, you'd probably fold in half and not be able to get off the floor." "No offense." He went on to justify why he thought I should be on an antidepressant. I rebutled... "I'm healthy, I exercise, I work, I feel good most days, I don't sleep too much." Anyhow, it's no use going into it here anymore.
A remarkable thing did happen that day though and I'm incredibly grateful for the session I had with him. I was taking xr xanax, 1mg a day. He was reluctant to write me another prescription (he was a new doctor, our first session together that is). He said that PTSD is not treated with a benzo, that only the symptoms are lessoned. He asked me how much I sleep, and I said, "not much." He said, well, I'll write it for another month but we may want to head in a different direction to treat your symptoms. I'll be damned if I didn't walk out of that office and take myself off medication. He was such a putz and such a bad listener that it began to make Absolutely No Sense to me why I would listen to his advice on what kind of pill to shove down my throat next to make it all "more bearable." The doctor before him was horrible. She was like a grown up Annie hunched over in her seat with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, probably at least a decade younger than me, who cut our short 30 minute session short and then prescribed me the Wrong medication on Accident not Once, but twice.
I can forgive my mechanic for screwing up. The girl in the fastfood window. But my Doctor writing me the wrong meds for behavior? Twice in a row? Give me a break.... okay, back to meditation and rock climbing. Fine. (notice the one letter difference: medication/meditation.. they're interchangeable in my world)
Keep in mind, I may be back on medication tomorrow. And if this were the case, I'd be fine with it. But Jeez. Did the guy hear a frickin word I said? For fuck's sake man. I've had a hard couple of weeks. Can you give a girl a tiny little break? A soft shoulder? At Least Pretend to Listen. God I Love My Man.
Okay, just for fun, one more: (don't I sort of look like I have him on a leash? yes, I meant to say that.)
You may now resume to your regularly scheduled program.
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