Mental Health Update (Because really, what could be more fascinating than THAT?!)

I have not been writing very much over the past few months.  And when I have, it has pretty much been only about the children.  Because I have been pretty much only about the children.  Which is fine, were it not for the fact that it’s not, because I am feeling FLAT.  Boring.  Mechanical.  My me has gone missing.  (Those five words make the winner of the prestigious Most Grammatical Mistakes in one Sentence Award!  I would like to thank the little people.  And my me.)  I am behind on current events.  I have read nothing of intelligence.  I have not talked or written to anyone.  Just...bleh.  I am on autopilot through the skies of life.  (Most Cheesiest Cliche Ever Award!)  I have not made much of anything, except a painting for my uncle, and that was the perfect example of my problem- I loved painting again, it was creative and therapeutic and fun, but ever since I finished it a month ago my brushes have remained untouched because I could not muster up the desire to do it again.  My zest is gone!  And I think it is because of the Prozac.  I have been on it for a while now, and as has happened in the past, over time it levels me out to the point of, well, flatness.  So a last week I started tapering off of it, and I am feeling the difference already.  Michael is in the fourth grade now, which means he is old enough to play a band or orchestra instrument.  So I dug my violin out and had it restrung for him, and picked it up the other night on a whim to see how much I remembered.  I felt such a thorough happiness in my bones I was surprised to realize I’d been missing it for so long.  Hopefully this alivity (now it’s a word!) is a sign that my CRUSHING DEPRESSION has lifted, so that I can go back to my only mildly mentally unstable and vivacious (har har) self.  Then again, it is a good thing those words look DELISHUS because I will undoubtedly be eating them very soon.

Speaking of mentally unstable, have I ever mentioned my ridiculous social anxiety problem?  If I am comfortable around you (or inebriated) then I am one of those people that never shuts up, but otherwise?  Paralyzed by shyness.  I was at Shoprite the other day and there was a balding older man stocking yogurts.  I rerouted to the orange juice section, but wanted yogurt, and he was still stocking, so I forced myself over.  He smiled and made pleasant chit chat, and I smiled and laughed at his friendly joke, and then I ducked in to the tomato sauce aisle to finish my MASSIVE PANIC ATTACK.  A panic attack, because some chubby fifty-something year old stockboy man whatever followed company protocol in greeting the customers.  Who does that?!  Oh, that’s right- me.  Off meds!

So anyway, I have had lots of happy feelings lately, and it is nice!  All kittens and rainbows, lots of happy happiness, until I was at Old Navy the other day.  And saw a pair of stirrup pants.  STIRRUP PANTS.  I went from happy to Oh HELL No.   I understand that the young people enjoy the vintage retro hipster Goodwill clearance look, and that I am now very very old, but I have pictures of myself in middle school wearing stirrup pants and even in my “awkward stage” (actually my life since age four has been an awkward stage, but middle school was ultra awkward) they were just BAD.  The only person that can carry them off gracefully is a HORSE.  And I do not believe horses are allowed to shop at Old Navy.

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September 24, 2009. Uncategorized.

One Comment

  1. Chris replied:

    Yep. SA is a real bummer.

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