Clearly the Prozac Hasn’t Kicked In

When I write deeply revealing posts like this one from yesterday, I’m not really thinking about the repercussions. I write to achieve clarity on something that is troubling me … aaand then I publish it and sometimes the comments come rolling in.

The responses to yesterday’s post were overwhelming. Here are a few that came in through various venues.

Every now and then I check out what search terms bring people to my blog. Lately I’ve been picking up followers (for no reason I can ascertain) so I was curious.

Here are the search terms that bring people to my blog.

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Really internet? What the fuck?

Anyway, I write as therapy and sometimes I don’t stop to think about exactly what I’m putting out there.

Yesterday at the grocery store I ran into a good friend who reads my blog and she gave me some advice about anti-depressants that don’t have as many sexual side effects. It was solid advice and I was grateful for it but I was also like, “Oh yeah. I guess I did talk about that. Well, now everyone knows.”

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That’s me. Always pushing the boundaries of oversharing.

The one thing I worry about is people monitoring me, in a loving way of course, but does everyone think I’m an alcoholic? Will people tsk-tsk when I have a drink at a party?

Because guess what? I’m totally having a drink at the 5th grade graduation party. My man Cory is DJing and my son is graduating and I’m going to have a good time.

It’s the drinking alone at 5pm that I’m cutting out … since so many people are paying attention. I just had to put that out there.

But speaking of not drinking as much, I tried these yesterday …

The Bai Bubbles were tasty but too sweet, it tasted more like soda to me. The Kevita grapefruit kombucha was tangy and had a nice bite to it. It might be really good diluted with soda water and a lime.

Anywho, today was rough. I’m still dealing with some of the blowback from selling some of Loony’s record collection. I truly feel bad about it and am trying to make it right. The guy who bought Loony’s records came over with some pieces he might be missing. It was a tense meeting to say the least. Everyone felt bad.

Then a friend came over and without getting into details, I screamed at him to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE at the top of my lungs.

He was antagonizing me over and old argument that really should have been left alone and I literally (and I mean literally) could not listen to him for one. more. second.

Did I overreact? Yes. Did he have it coming? Yes. Did it feel good? There are no words for how good it felt.

Clearly the Prozac has not kicked in.

I don’t have it in me to tolerate any bullshit. I’m in a fragile emotional state and just about anything could throw me over the edge, as illustrated by today’s explosion. I’m not in the mood to cry and retreat, I’m in the mood to fight.

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I’ll admit that it is my deepest desire to throw a drink into someone’s face and I have violent dreams. I repress a lot of my urges so they have to come out somewhere.

Loony witnessed the penultimate round of me asking politely screaming at him to leave. And then he witnessed the ensuing argument so by the time I got around to throwing him out, I believe he understood why I was so pissed off.

Some people have a way of getting under my skin.

Yes, he’s a friend. And yes, we will probably pretend this never happened the next time I see him. I’ll own that I am way crazy right now.

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Ultimately the take home message is that he should have stopped talking when I warned him the first time. I rarely get to the point of of giving the final warning but when I do, you best get out of the way.

 

 

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