�what is Man? a miserable little pile of secrets.� - andr� malraux
"i desire to live in peace and to continue the life i have begun under the motto, to live well you must live unseen." - rene
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not amused.
2011-12-17 @ 6:39 p.m.
went to the gyno on thursday with my mom, and i was actually glad she went and offered to pay because a simple annual exam was $300+ since i have no insurance. the US is so ridiculous when it comes to healthcare, but let's not even get started on that shit. so anyway, i'm doing absolutely great. great health. he was really proud of my weight loss and super happy to hear that i'm so happy about it. we discussed my gnarly cramps and i was given a little more powerful tylenol, which i've already tried and it works great. we also discussed my depression/anxiety, and he gave me some prozac. lowish dose, 20mg. i'm kind of terrified to take it, because you always hear horror stories about anti-depressants, but i'm willing to give it a try, because my anxiety is just unmanageable really. also, i don't remember if i ever mentioned this, but during these periods of anxiety i start picking and biting my nails/fingers. and it's been REALLY bad lately. supposedly, again from internet research, it's an OCD behavior, so the prozac should be good for this too. in the interest of full disclosure with boy, i told him i was going to be starting it (for some reason i was kind of nervous about telling him actually scared to tell him? i don't know why, but it's probably the anxiety. i'm afraid to answer the phone for anyone lately), so if i started acting weird or something, to keep an eye on me. my biggest fears are the "sexual side effects" and weight gain, but according to the internet the weight gain is usually situational and usually only occurs at really high dosages. we'll see. but i guess it's kind of funny that i'm more concerned about popping a pill once a day than i was about getting a piece of fucking plastic filled with hormones forcibly jammed directly into my uterus. also what's weird about the word on prozac on the internet is that it seems like a lot of these people are those types who are like, "into" medication. you know what i mean? like they just seem really enthusiastic about being medicated. maybe i'm just really weird and this is yet another nonsensical, ridiculous thought that i'm having lately. but it just seems that there exists, just like there are people like me who only turn to pills in cases of absolute necessity, a small segment of people who are all about getting on something. and i'm not talking about like the average stupid american who'll guzzle 20 prescriptions for whatever, because i know those people exist. i mean the people who wear their crazy like a badge of honor and seem to be almost bragging about how many things they're taking. maybe i'm just a tool or something, and i know nothing about the future, but i feel like if this doesn't work then i'm just going to have to stop taking it and try to deal with it. i don't think i'm going to kill myself. anytime soon. i'm pretty self aware. i'd just have to smoke a lot more weed and take some more fucking vitamins or something. win the lottery. i don't know. boy is being a crabby douche because he's just down and dirty exhausted. he was dead last night, and we went to bed at like 8:45 or something, and i started reading toxic parents, and 2.5 hours later i'm on page 167 and can't even believe that this book exists. i've gone all this time thinking it was me. like i knew my mom was terrible and she and my stepdad did and said awful things, but i just thought i was being a pussy. why wouldn't i? she just told me i was the other day. i just feel like this book explains so much, like why i always feel this way, and especially why i've been doing so terribly lately. why i used to cut myself when i was younger, why i worked a job i fucking hated for years and ate and drank myself into an unrecognizable ghost, and why now i can't fucking get myself together and believe that i am capable of doing anything. the three p's, huh? perfectionism, paralysis, and procrastination. i totally get it. now help me find the exit. i always say i'm a happy person, and i am. when my doctor was asking me if i was having any particular problems, he asked about boy and i said there's nothing wrong there. i love my house, the kittens are good, my friends and i are cool, my brother and i have a fantastic relationship. yeah, i'm stressed about money but i'm ready to settle on whatever job now, and i recognize that i might have to just do something temporarily until i can get back into my desired industry. but my relationship with my parents, particularly my mother, overshadows and sours everything good in my life. i live in constant fear of her. it makes my insides feel like they're going to rot. i just didn't realize that it had such a hold on me until i started reading this book. so anyway, boy being a grumpyfuck is the least of my worries at this point. he's slept like maybe 15 hours in the past three days, and even that is being generous. but i told him i'm not interested in sitting up all night, wasting my night trying to get him to wake up off of the couch when he could just get in bed. he'll be like, "just a couple more minutes," but there's no goddamn reason to sit around for another couple minutes when you're already fully unconscious and snoring. he's so annoying with that, but whatever, i won, and he got in bed hours ago. my insomnia's been nuts lately so when his body is finally done sleeping it off, i'll probably just be waking up. hopefully we'll have good timing like that, and we can actually have a decent one day together. before i'm done, i was soooo mad on wednesday, because i was giving him a blowjob and those fingers kept creeping into my underwear, but i had to keep dodging him because i had to go to the gyno the next morning. thursday i was exhausted and friday i was doing all kinds of shit, so sex wasn't anywhere in my mind, but today i was like damn. i need to masturbate or something. so in the middle of it, my fucking vibrator's batteries died. really. how can i help but feel like my life is a cruel joke sometimes?
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not amused.
2011-12-17 @ 6:39 p.m.
went to the gyno on thursday with my mom, and i was actually glad she went and offered to pay because a simple annual exam was $300+ since i have no insurance. the US is so ridiculous when it comes to healthcare, but let's not even get started on that shit. so anyway, i'm doing absolutely great. great health. he was really proud of my weight loss and super happy to hear that
i'm so happy about it. we discussed my gnarly cramps and i was given a little more powerful tylenol, which i've already tried and it works great. we also discussed my depression/anxiety, and he gave me some prozac. lowish dose, 20mg. i'm kind of terrified to take it, because you always hear horror stories about anti-depressants, but i'm willing to give it a try, because my anxiety is just unmanageable really. also, i don't remember if i ever mentioned this, but during these periods of anxiety i start picking and biting my nails/fingers. and it's been REALLY bad lately. supposedly, again from internet research, it's an OCD behavior, so the prozac should be good for this too. in the interest of full disclosure with boy, i told him i was going to be starting it (for some reason i was
kind of nervous about telling him actually scared to tell him? i don't know why, but it's probably the anxiety. i'm afraid to answer the phone for anyone lately), so if i started acting weird or something, to keep an eye on me. my biggest fears are the "sexual side effects" and weight gain, but according to the internet the weight gain is
usually situational and
usually only occurs at really high dosages. we'll see. but i guess it's kind of funny that i'm more concerned about popping a pill once a day than i was about getting a piece of fucking plastic filled with hormones forcibly jammed directly into my uterus.
also what's weird about the word on prozac on the internet is that it seems like a lot of these people are those types who are like, "into" medication. you know what i mean? like they just seem really enthusiastic about being medicated. maybe i'm just really weird and this is yet another nonsensical, ridiculous thought that i'm having lately. but it just seems that there exists, just like there are people like me who only turn to pills in cases of absolute necessity, a small segment of people who are all about getting on something. and i'm not talking about like the average stupid american who'll guzzle 20 prescriptions for whatever, because i know those people exist. i mean the people who wear their crazy like a badge of honor and seem to be almost bragging about how many things they're taking. maybe i'm just a tool or something, and i know nothing about the future, but i feel like if this doesn't work then i'm just going to have to stop taking it and try to deal with it. i don't think i'm going to kill myself. anytime soon. i'm pretty self aware. i'd just have to smoke a lot more weed and take some more fucking vitamins or something. win the lottery. i don't know.
boy is being a crabby douche because he's just down and dirty exhausted. he was dead last night, and we went to bed at like 8:45 or something, and i started reading toxic parents, and 2.5 hours later i'm on page 167 and can't even believe that this book exists. i've gone all this time thinking it was me. like i knew my mom was terrible and she and my stepdad did and said awful things, but i just thought i was being a pussy. why wouldn't i? she just told me i was the other day. i just feel like this book explains so much, like why i always feel this way, and especially why i've been doing so terribly lately. why i used to cut myself when i was younger, why i worked a job i fucking hated for years and ate and drank myself into an unrecognizable ghost, and why now i can't fucking get myself together and believe that i am capable of doing anything. the three p's, huh? perfectionism, paralysis, and procrastination. i totally get it. now help me find the exit.
i always say i'm a happy person, and i am. when my doctor was asking me if i was having any particular problems, he asked about boy and i said there's nothing wrong there. i love my house, the kittens are good, my friends and i are cool, my brother and i have a fantastic relationship. yeah, i'm stressed about money but i'm ready to settle on whatever job now, and i recognize that i might have to just do something temporarily until i can get back into my desired industry. but my relationship with my parents, particularly my mother, overshadows and sours everything good in my life. i live in constant fear of her. it makes my insides feel like they're going to rot. i just didn't realize that it had such a hold on me until i started reading this book.
so anyway, boy being a grumpyfuck is the least of my worries at this point. he's slept like maybe 15 hours in the past three days, and even that is being generous. but i told him i'm not interested in sitting up all night, wasting my night trying to get him to wake up off of the couch when he could just get in bed. he'll be like, "just a couple more minutes," but there's no goddamn reason to sit around for another couple minutes when you're already fully unconscious and snoring. he's so annoying with that, but whatever, i won, and he got in bed hours ago. my insomnia's been nuts lately so when his body is finally done sleeping it off, i'll probably just be waking up. hopefully we'll have good timing like that, and we can actually have a decent one day together.
before i'm done, i was soooo mad on wednesday, because i was giving him a blowjob and those fingers kept creeping into my underwear, but i had to keep dodging him because i had to go to the gyno the next morning. thursday i was exhausted and friday i was doing all kinds of shit, so sex wasn't anywhere in my mind, but today i was like damn. i need to masturbate or something. so in the middle of it, my fucking vibrator's batteries died.
really. how can i help but feel like my life is a cruel joke sometimes?