I don’t know how to insert a song here but just hum some Beastie Boys in your head.
Here’s the question – why would DH make a home made dessert FROM SCRATCH, a whole damn pan of them yesterday? I curse the Christmas he got that KitchenAid mixer. Now he thinks himself Invincible Cooking Daddy! Only one of our kids has a tendency towards the sweet, dark stuff like me, so he can’t say it was purely for the kids. The other one didn’t even want any (I thank God she won’t have THIS particular issue but I also pray that she will avoid other addictions). I wish he hadn’t made them. I wish I hadn’t eaten two last night and I wish I hadn’t brought THREE with my lunch today. Yeah, I have issues.
Last night we had relationship issues, too. Don’t know if any of it is related and my head hurts from trying to think about that. Anyway, an argument (unrelated to the above issue) was started. I feel very shut down, closed off from my feelings. It’s too painful to have them so I float above. The Ultimatum bounces off, deflected by my wall. It doesn’t even put a dent in my exterior. I realize this isn’t right. It seems like all this is worse since I became ‘aware’ of it. Am I doing it more or just noticing it more? When did I turn into a shell of a human being just going through the motions of a life that I so desperately wanted and prayed for so many years ago? I didn’t feel back then either, though. Each month I got my period and wasn’t pregnant – I didn’t grieve, I just focused on the next step. And if we set the dial again on the Way Back Machine….. there is the faint memory of my short, first marriage at 23. I realized it wasn’t the type of life I wanted or the way I wanted to be treated so I just uh, announced that. Yes, I did ask him to go to counseling for several months before, but in the end it was pretty surgical for me. I did later about a month later have an evening grieving session. I drank wine, lit candles, sat in my apartment in the dark looking at our wedding album while listening to tragic opera. I cried, I sobbed, I was hysterical for a while and I threw the album across the room. Huh, I forgot about that until just now. Interesting. I’ll have to tell Nice Therapist about that recollection.
Without an appropriate segue, I ask – do antidepressants dull our minds too much? There have been plenty of times in my life with my history of depression that it needed dulling to save me from the angry sadness in my head. But are my emotions switched off up there in Control Central as a result of my Prozac?
bluemoongirl's musings 