You know the story…
Woman meets psychiatrist.
Psychiatrist medicates woman.
Woman loves everybody.
Woman goes through menopause.
Woman realizes that Stepford Wives, RI drivers and entitled douchebags are still ridiculously annoying.
Woman hopes someone will punch her the next time she says she “loves everybody.”
Woman puts on 10 pounds.
Woman reconciles extra weight, because now she looks like a woman and — also — she already tried NOT having a woman’s body during puberty, and that was horrible, Plus, her BMI is still really healthy and within normal range. So, she buys a whole new wardrobe, and — seriously — why doesn’t anyone ever get excited about buying new clothes when they put ON weight?
Woman’s meds stop working.
Woman wakes up in the middle of the night and experiences 2-hour long self-hating death spirals.
Psychiatrist adds SECOND med.
Woman is like, “A second med? Why not just switch my meds?”
Psychiatrist says something that woman doesn’t really remember, but definitely gets the feeling that the psychiatrist is firmly in the “add drug” camp and not the “switch drug” camp.
Woman feels GREAT.
Woman puts on 8 more pounds.
Woman’s body no longer feels like her own and she’s like, “WHAT THE FUCK?! I can’t just KEEP putting on weight!”
Woman takes herself off second drug.
Woman takes herself off half of original drug.
Woman tells psychiatrist that she knows he was resistant, but now she really wants him to switch her meds.
Psychiatrist balks at suggestion that he was “resistant.”
Woman is like, “Oh, good. Another reason to feel crazy.”
Psychiatrist switches woman’s meds.
Woman is elated.
Woman has massive heart palpitations.
I mean, non-stop, all day long, feel them in your THROAT palpitations. Capiche?
Woman experiences severe anxiety.
Woman dreads everything.
Woman feels nauseous.
Woman calls psychiatrist.
Psychiatrist tells woman, “You are in the valley between when your old meds were working and when your new meds will take affect. Ramp up your yoga. Do what you can. It should start getting better soon.”
Woman enters third week of valley.
Woman has absolutely ZERO funny thoughts pop into her brain. Well, okay, maybe that one thing about looking up to see what kind of bird was making a unique call, and then watching the bird poop and wondering if the call was a “I have to poop!” call. But that wasn’t really that funny and it really didn’t make the woman laugh out loud.
Woman stops jumping out of bed at 5 am to write her book.
Woman can’t even write a Facebook post.
Woman uncharacteristically reluctant to publicly share what’s been going on.
Woman then has a blog post pop into her head.
You know … the same old story.