I am a piece of kaka for a blog friend aren’t I?
For anyone stopping by to check on me, a big Thank You, that is so sweet. I mean that.
Making it through the holidays without my sister...well...it almost killed me. I am now one of the walking wounded taking the glorious anti-depressant Paxil. I never in my life thought I would see the day when I would end up taking something like that. Never.
But I do feel better now, took a couple of months but I do feel better.
Boy oh boy, did I make Big Guy’s life a living hell. Took out everything on him, gave it my best shot to drive him away. I’m such a horror story.
I sat around talking about what he should do when I die. I wrote down bequeaths and how I wanted a cremation and no ceremony.
Then as a topper I talked about my favorite ways to kill myself. My weariness of living, of existing, of simply being alive made death seem like heaven. I was an asshole through and through.
I made him cry more than once.
The shame I feel for that will probably haunt me forever. How can I forgive myself for being so mean to such a nice, wonderful, man?
At the same time as my ongoing meltdown I kept going in my daily life. Some wonderful, fantastic times happened. I was one of the greatest actresses ever (course I have always said if your married you can act...oops... humor...who’d a thunk?). I felt terrible, hated everyone, but I put a smile of my face and acted my way through the happiness and celebration. Pretended a lot, not just a lot, but all the time I guess.
The stress from that alone damn near killed me. When I look in the mirror now I have aged ten years, no lie, and no exaggeration. The eyes tell it all.
Only now can I appreciate the good times, I guess because of Paxil...and a lot of exercise. No kidding, I’m up to three miles a day walking and other exercises. It definitely did improve my outlook and mood.
Well that’s an update, an honest and true update.
Right now I’m trying to cope with needing this Paxil, I feel such shame for being so weak.
I’m also working hard to reassure my Big Guy, make him feel better. The toll of being around that was hard on him. He took the full brunt of my personal horror story; no one else even had a clue.
I love him; I love my Big Guy down to the marrow of my bones. To think that I hurt him like I did makes me want to weep with shame. I still have a hard time believing I did that.
Well, if any of you have stopped by to check on me, again, a big Thank You. I did think of you even when I was at my bottom and in my heart I was wishing you well. And I missed you.
So there you have it. Do you think badly of me now that you know I’m on Paxil? Do you think I’m less of a human being? Because I feel less, I feel weaker than the rest of you. Why do I need to take something when people with far more problems don’t?
I think of my mother, all she went through in her life, and the shame of having to take a drug hit’s me all over again.
Anyways, it’s past 4AM and I have to get to work on a project. Boss will be here about 9AM and expects me to be finished. Ah well, what can I say? The basic instinct for survival kicks in no matter how low I get, I want to earn that money. Heh.