Saturday, August 11, 2012

My little blue pill....


So, I finally found my password to get on here. It has been forever since my last post. Seems odd that my screen name is scrappinganjel since I have not scrapped in forever. In fact have given most of it away and ready to give away even more.

I wouldn't say that I have no time to scrap. I could make the time and lord knows I have more than enough to work with. Seems the problem is...don't care. I haven't cared about much of anything in the past year. Maybe its just the daily grind getting to me. Seems all we do is work. When we aren't working we are sleeping. Never enough money even to rob Peter to pay Paul. I know we are not the only family struggling. Look around you...most are in the same situation we are, some have it worse. But either way life seems to be getting in the way of living.

Hello little blue pill.

Some men would tell you that their little blue pill makes everything all better. Mine...well, it comes with a stigma and some would say a bit of embarrassement. Prozac. Yep, I said it. This old bird had to be medicated. Life came at me pretty hard and fast. Too many deaths in a short period of time. Two major moves in two years. Working, not working, looking for work, supporting two family households. Supporting everyone. Stress. Life. Depression. The list keeps going. Its only a matter of time before something inside of you snaps.

My psychatirst (yep...no therapist for me...went straight to the top) is more of a nut than I am. If Woody Allen and the creepy preacher from Poltergist were able to bear a child...it would be her. Now my major issue with her is this. Isn't it our time Mr Hand? Really....I pay YOU to talk and discuss ME. Its pretty simple. I talk, you write. You question, I answer. You prescribe, I take the pill. Nope, I make her laugh and she talks about her. WTF??? Look just give me my refill and I will go read a self help book and try and figure out what is wrong with me. I do already know, but its emotionally easier to act as if I need to find out why I am the way I am and what horrible thing caused my breakdown. I know the answer to both, I just choose to look the other way and just smile as if life is beautiful.

Oh, and life is beautiful. I am not that far gone to know that. I am not really crazy, just clinically depressed. It was Gods little joke. See, I am not very sympathetic. Yes, I am a nurse and sympathy is a trait you should have being in that line of work. But I have seen the ugly in people and in life. So I am a little jaded. I am of the school of "pick yourself up, brush it off and walk it out". Someone I love had some issues with bouts of depression. My advise was, "stop it. get over it." Wow...what a bitch. You can't. And having never dealt with depression, I figured it was just that easy. Hence Gods little joke. The meds are helping. But, I feel its time to increase the dosage. Type A personality, never content with what I have, always wanting to do more and achieve better. Looking our and doing for everyone around me and not taking care of me. Now fighting depression. Damn....it sucks.

So, welcome to my therapy. Writting. You the gentle reader...if you are out there, will get to walk through this journey with me. I promise you, it will be quite a ride.

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