I’m not sure which one of you assholes forced me to go off my anti-anxiety meds, but that was a really stupid fucking idea. (For those of you just joining us, that asshole is me.)
I went off my meds because of a 3-pound winter weight gain, but I knew early on that my head was in the wrong place. My doctor’s plan was for me to go on a NEW medication, use it as a “crutch” for 6 months, get myself into some cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and slowly move into medslessness with some CBT skills in place. The problem was, when I tried a new drug, it flared my colitis. So, I just kept plugging along drug-free, enjoying the reunion with my sex drive, working on my deep breathing, implementing my single-session of CBT strategies, feeling somewhat better from being off Facebook and thinking that all the stuff that Supremely Pissed Me Off was RIGHTEOUS.
Unfortunately, the things that I felt most righteous about were slightly distorted. I know many things about mental illness DO have a basis in reality, and — the reality is — our dishwasher often looks like it was loaded by the dog. But it seemed to affect me in a way that made me yell. A LOT. At the people I love. And live with.
My husband lovingly urged me to go back on meds.
I went to my second therapy session:
ME <to therapist>: Can you prescribe meds?
MY LOVELY THERAPIST (MLT): No, but I can tell you if I think you’re a good candidate for them.
ME: Blethering on for 20 minutes in a completely unfocused description of my current state-of-mind about how I don’t experience joy from the things that typically give me joy and and how my lows seem to be getting even lower.
MLT: How long has this been going on?
ME: Probably since I helped my mom and her cat fly to England. (Although this sentence was more like 1,000 sentences and took me another 15 minutes).
ME (again): Sooo…do you think I’m a good candidate for meds?
MLT <with the most empathic version of “Uh…DUH!”>: Yessssssssssssssss!! I have a psychiatrist I can refer you to.
Ooooooooooo! Just like Betty Draper in Mad Men, Season 1!
Here is what happened when I called Dr. Psychiatrist’s office:
ME: Hi my name is Catherine. MLT referred me to Dr. Psychiatrist and I’d like to make a new patient appointment.
SENSITIVITY-LACKING FRONT OFFICE LADY (SLFOL): What insurance do you have?
ME: Uh….Blue Cross Blue Shield.
SLFOL: What state?
ME <irritated>: Rhode Island!
SLFOL: Okay. What was your name again?
ME: Gee. What would have happened if I’d said something else?
SLFOL: We only take certain types of insurance.
ME: You know you work in the front office for a PSYCHIATRIST, right?! I pretty much think the overriding demographic of PEOPLE CALLING TO MAKE THEIR FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST is SOMEWHAT FUCKING FRAGILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Asking for their health insurance without even a pause is just completely fucking obnoxious, you dense, irritating, Rhode Island front-office-lady beast of burden (except this last part was all in my head).
Where was I going with all this? Oh yeah! I guess I mostly wanted to tell you that I am a wee bit depressed and that after Therapy Session II, I went back on my OLD meds while waiting to see the psychiatrist (10/1) and give his front office lady the finger (in my head) and see if he can prescribe me a medicine that helps my anxiety+depression, but still allows me to have a decent sex drive and also does not add any body weight or flare my colitis.
Until all THOSE criteria are met, here is some dishwasher loading to inspire you:
Writing Out Loud 
You have been missed. I’d blame the colitis flare up on your FB-less-ness. Everyone knows that you can feel better by making fun of idiots on FB.
My neuropsychologist would love you. He totally GETS the dishwasher thing.
Give CBT some more energy. Since I can’t take any of the meds without going into serotonin syndrome, I had to learn CBT. It actually works for anxiety, but Big Pharma would prefer that secret be kept. I don’t know what else it works for, so this is not a blanket endorsement.
Please come back to FB. I miss your adorable comments and posts.
thanks, kay. you are so sweet. i think cbt is awesome too. it’s powerful stuff and i’m glad you’ve found a substitute for the meds. if meds fail to agree with me, the decision will have been made for me!
I was so depressed, I felt BAD about making fun of people on FB. :)
Thanks for the kindness. xo
i LOVE you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
feelin’ it. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo back at you xoxoxoxo
Dude, I know what you are going through – been there, done that. We will be here when your adorable, medicated self returns. BTW, I like what you did with the serving dishes in the lower left quadrant there – well placed.
I don’t know if I’ve just double posted, but wanted to let you know that we will be waiting for your adorable self on fb when you are ready. It’s awfully dull without you, so I hope it is soon. Feel better, and if you need a sub for dishwasher loading, call me – it was my minor in college.
ha! i will DEFINITELY call you for dishwasher loading back up. Thank you again for your very kind words, and although i’m sad you had to have also “been here, done this”, it’s always good to know this is something many of us struggle with at some point.
I will see you the FB front soon, or in my kitchen!
I put a tiny package for you in between your front door/storm door.
I JUST FOUND IT!!!! You are such a GODDESS. And quite a talented one, at that! Thank you so much. What a lovely, lovely treat. I’ll have a buzz for days :)
PS: was the Medstop bag intentional? either way, it was hysterical.
Haha, the bag was a happy accident. Apoteket means drugstore in Swedish. I wasn’t going to use it, but figured you would see the funny in it. (Alas, no drugs in it). Glad you like the pouch – I was a veritable sweatshop back when I used to sew.
Suddenly I want to post a photo of one of my dishwasher reloads. At first I thought I was being a bitch, but then I realized it was like a puzzle and I like puzzles. And still some days, I know I’m being an OCD’d bitch and have to accept it. Women are just fantastic packers. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just not care? Hope you level out soon!
oh, please share dishwasher photos! i REMEMBER those days of not caring. i think it was circa 13 years old. It was lovely. :)
thanks for the encouragement, too!
I hope Charisma shares her dishwasher photos TOO!
I honestly can’t tell if your photo is of a good job or a bad job. (I am the less-good loader at our house.) The way some bowls are perpendicular to others has me worried; doesn’t the water action move better side-to-side? On the other hand, it can’t be a TYPICAL example of a bad job since your typical bad job has like…a cookie sheet resting over the entire lower level, or is just all jammed and crammed.
The perpendiculars in the bottom left are okay, b/c water still reaches them. But you’re right, ideally everything should be facing center, but those jumbo bowls won’t fit that way, esp. not with the Rachel Ray’s taking up all that back rack. My dishwasher seems to be designed for fine China, not CHUNKY shit.
Oh wow! This. I’ve struggled with this forever, since my 20’s. I can’t get it through my head that I live better on my meds. I go through periods of not taking them, and then wake up months later wondering ‘how did I get here?’ Oh ya, you stopped taking your meds. I’ve probably spent the equivalent of 3 years in psych/counselor/therapist and even a psych ward. CBT is lovely too, but I need to say that for everyone in my life, and for those people who count on me daily, thank god for meds. Glad you are feeling better!
you are such a goddess for sharing this. it never fails to amaze me how many people struggle with these kinds of issues. thanks for YOUR story AND for normalizing what I’m experiencing. xoxo