Life. I guess I'll Never Ride Bareback Again.

What's that you say?

I'm medicated. I take pills every day in order to function. They say it's depression. My body either doesn't create enough serotonin or dopamine or fruit loops on it's own - or it makes too much, so I have to give it some encouragement to settle the hell down.

I'll be taking this stuff for the rest of my life. And while I knew that going in, I was never ready to fully accept the fact that I need help. For without the meds, I see and hear things. Things that aren't there.

I've managed my meds in excess of 10 years. I've only ever missed a med on accident one time. The withdrawal symptoms that followed were terrifying and confusing until I remembered "Oh, yeah. Forgot to take my pill." My senses had gone mad hatter on me, but it was easily fixed.

Right about now, you should be backing away from me with your eyebrows raised and your hands in a defensive position. It's ok. I would too, if I didn't know me like I do.

I know that my life is good and I pass for normal. At least as long as you don't look too closely, or expect particularly lady-like actions from me. I work hard at the office, I play hard whenever I can, sometimes when I'm at the office. My husband is my best friend and ALWAYS he's so good to me that there are times I think I've accidentally skipped a med and he's merely an illusion.

But there are bad times too. Little surprises that reinforce the fact that control is never to be taken for granted. Without getting too graphic, I recently missed a med without missing it. My body, uh.... evacuated some food I ate. And along with it was apparently a sizeable chunk of my time release med.

A night or so later, I awoke in the familiar cold sweat with my heart racing. Wild thoughts and the rubbery feelings all over. I knew this was a symptom of a missed med, but couldn't figure out how that was possible. I also knew I had a little time until things got real bad. The electrical zaps in my head hadn't arrived yet. And this wasn't a run of the mill panic attack.

I went through my days and concluded finally that I must have unwillingly given up too much of my med to the City's sewers. It made sense. I had taken it right before the snack of FAIL.

I took half a dose of my regular med as a replacement and within 24 hours I was right as rain.

And as I'm wont to do, I became a little introspective about my mental health. Why me? Why do I need to go through this? How can I fight something that throws me a curve every once in a while? What if I can't handle the next one? How can Mr. Zoom possibly stand so solidly beside me and accept everything that is me? If I'm crazy, and these meds are the only thing keeping me sane - holy shit.

I am literally, figuratively, clinically - mad.

And for about 3 minutes, I was actually happy being insane. I know it sounds strange, or at least I would think it does, but there was a weird kind of freedom that came with finally accepting that I am a full tilt nut-bar. Because for 3 minutes I didn't care that I need help, that I can't do this on my own, that I have to take medicine to participate in this world. I was what I am and I have a way to deal with it.

I haven't been able to maintain that acceptance, but it was a start. And I'm pretty sure I owe it to that half a cheesecake that I ate.

Just When I Thought I Hated Hollywood....

ZOMFG! Did I just use internet slang?

How To Lose Friends and Alienate People + Simon Pegg = Zoom Girl Boner.

Read the book by Toby Young a couple of years ago and loved it. I also read another of Young's books where he laid out the uphill battle of getting Lose & Alienate made into a movie. It didn't go well. And honestly, I had thought the project was dead.

...until I just saw a trailer for it on my t.v. in the middle of my Family Guy re-run. ALMOST needed a change of undies.

I suppose this is what I get for not keeping up on IMDB and, you know, the information that can be had in less than a second these days. As long as one isn't a complete knob. I feel a little shame, but mostly I'm looking for a cigarette after my massive moviegasm.

Exiting the Passenger Side, Even Though You Drove

I went to the grocery store on Sunday. That was dumb. Apparently everyone else in California needed to go to the store at exactly the same time. I had never been gridlocked in the bread aisle before, and it was quite a strange sensation. I had to override my claustrophobic driven urge to ram everyone with my cart.

Screaming children were EVERYWHERE. I heard, well, we all heard one parent yelling "Is it because you don't want to go to the birthday party? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHY YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME??" It was like watching synchronized swimming as we all decided whether we would be the people to act like the ruckus wasn't there, or we would be the people to stare directly into it.

At one point I found myself in an aisle alone. I was grateful for the space. And then the world decided to punch me in the face with a situation that happened far too fast for photo documentation. My own photos. As I'm positive security cameras caught it.

I was about to wheel my cart further down the aisle when an elderly man carrying something began walking towards me. My head began to calculate where he would be going, as we all do when there's another person in a space we need to navigate. I hadn't started moving yet because I felt like he was heading right for me. I remember thinking that was not possible, but then he came up to my cart and dropped the item he was carrying in it. He then looked up at me and I know all he saw was a strange lady staring back at him with her jaw riding in that built in kid seat shopping carts have. I wasn't sure WHAT to do. But then he literally clicked into the realization that my cart was not the cart he was looking for. He grabbed his items, practically yelled "I'm sorry" at me and then literally RAN AWAY.

I didn't see him the rest of the time I was in the store. I really wanted to. I wanted to see that he was with someone that perhaps looked like me and he just mistook my cart/me as that person. That maybe he had left her there while he retrieved something and that is why he thought I was her. What gave me the punched in the face sensation was that I was afraid he was having elderly dementia issues and I had witnessed an episode. And acted oh so gracefully as to stand there with a look of shock on my face. I really really wanted that not to be the case.

Just like I really really wanted the spider that was on my truck to be gone by the time I got out of the grocery store. Mr. Spider had built a web on my side view mirror, driver's side. I had driven on the freeway in order to blow him and his web off the truck, but it didn't work. And when I got off the freeway, Mr. Spider would come out of the center of the web to crawl up the driver's side window at stop lights. It's really not safe to drive a vehicle around while fighting the wibblies and saying "ew ew ew ew ew ew ew". When I arrived at the grocery store I exited my truck through the passenger side. I made some guy who parked 2 spaces away from me raise his eyebrows when he saw me climb over the center console to get out on the passenger side. I had to do all my business that day out of the passenger side. For all I know, the spider and his web are still there. Mr. Zoom drove us to work today.

I really hope the elderly man from the store had a spider like reason for placing his item in my cart.