I am a cranky, miserable bitch. There I go, stating the obvious.
I am having a perfect storm of ‘bad’. Not my husband, kids or friends. It’s me. Capital M. Capital E. I am constantly bitching at my poor Hubs. He knows something is wrong but is afraid to ask. We are so in tune to each other that he knows that I will bite his head off if he says “What’s wrong?” He is being ever so sweet. He helps me clean the house. He helps with Bandit. He cooks me breakfast and orders dinner. But it doesn’t make me happy.
Babygirl has been so happy lately. We (she) is getting all of her FAFSA papers filed. She hasn’t argued with me. She has cleaned her room.(mostly) She helps with the laundry.She has chosen her roommate for next year and they are like long lost friends. It will be a good pairing. But it doesn’t make me happy.
A major part of the problem is that the doctor has cut the dosage of my antidepressant in half. (“Let’s see how you make out with less of a dosage. Maybe we can wean you off of it.”) I learned my lesson about that. I would stop taking it every spring so that I could take something for my allergies. In the summer, I am out in the sunshine more, and therefore, I am happier. But as soon as September rolls around, I am depressed, and I have to ask the doctor to put me back on them. This is the first year I have stayed on them and I am very happy with the results that I have been having. I am humoring Dr. Asshat for the next week or so. Then he will have to humor ME.
Another part of the problem is that the pain in my back has worsened. This isn’t the first time it has happened after a series of shots. But it is the first time that I am in excruciating pain that keeps me in a constant cycle of sit/stand/walk every half hour or so. My pain meds are not working completely. I called his office today and we are in the process of getting me into the hospital for my neuralytic. This is the only thing that has made me happy.
I haven’t been thrilled with movies or music. This is highly unusual for me. I had been writing and now I look at the page and it takes too much effort for me to reread and find my place again. I log onto Facebook and aside from a comment here or there, I don’t even want to hang out there. This has not gone unnoticed by my friends. I am Ms Crankypants. I have lost my funny. I am the cheerleader. The clown. The jokester. Now if anyone says anything to me, I have a very curt answer. I am cynical. Cold.
Now that I have filled this page with an explanation, it is obvious to me what my next step should be.
I don’t think I’ll wait a month for Dr Asshat. Fuck that.
I want ME back.