"I can explain!!!!!"

Okay, so I guess my last post was a departure for me and I gave no explanation for the PG-13 images. It's never fun to be on the outside of an inside joke so forgive me. I was simultaneously laughing at and crying for myself because of a choice experience I had. I wont share all the sordid details because trust me, you don't want to know. (And if you decide you really want to know, ask me and I'll tell you in person.)
In my quest to live a whole and happy life I tend to be stuck in a cycle. It goes like this:
1)Struggle, struggle, struggle with real feelings of anxiety and obsessive-compulsiveness.
2)Realize I'm like a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest trying to handle it on my own.
3)Seek help from a licensed professional.
4)Start taking meds.
5)Start experiencing difficult side-effects from the meds.
6)Begin wondering if the way I was living is better or worse than the side effects that are now becoming almost unbearable.
7)Go off the meds.
8)Begin again.
Okay, so that's the cycle. Only this time I did something different. With a shred of hope and a lot of prayer I stopped at step 6 and did not allow myself to go to step 7. And let me just say that side-effects are one thing, but having an actual BAD and I mean BAD reaction to a drug is a whole nutha ball game! I was insane! I cannot even begin to make you understand! The meds I was on were making me nuts! And every time I'd call the psych. to move my next appt up they were unable. (I know! Don't they know they're dealing with crazy people! Make it happen!)
So, I just kept swallowing the very thing I knew was making me crazy, morning after morning. But somewhere deep down in my spirit (not easy to tap into when you're dealing with a deranged brain!) I knew this was all part of the Lord's plan to get me well.
So, one night I had a massive meltdown. I threw (and I mean, hurled!) an Ensign magazine (of all things! It may as well have been a book about eternal marriage!) at my poor unsuspecting husband. I got in my car and I began to drive and SCREAM! I know much better than to scream AT the Lord but I knew he could hear me, and it was all for him. "I cannot do this! What is the freakin' problem! Am I really asking for that much? All I want is to have a fighting chance! I'm not asking for fancy, just NORMAL! I'm not trying to rule the world, just be a half-decent wife and mother and maybe along the way glean a little joy from it! I don't understand why I cannot catch a break! I guess I'm not worth helping! Maybe this is as good as it gets for me! Maybe that's as much as I deserve! So ya know what? I quit! I totally quit! If I'm working twice as hard to make good choices and I don't even get to feel joy then I'm done! Maybe the other things aren't right but at least they bring some temporary relief! I mean, if I don't get to feel happiness either way, at least I can feel some relief!* (the hatchet picture does not apply to this part of the scenario. Neither do the pullups or cupcake)
So I am driving around at 1:30 a.m., shrieking, tears streaming, eyes bulging and neck veins pulsating like the Hulk. I am feeling like about the lowest most worthless creature the Lord ever bothered giving a body to. Meanwhile, my rant has taken me from my own jipped existence to the perfect lives of everyone around me (but it's still all about me, I'm sure you got that). So I'm screaming about the ease I see in the lives of those around me. I'm siting specific examples of whose got what I ain't got and now I'm really cookin'! I've got a full-blown pity party goin' and no one is invited but me! That way no one can talk any sense into me and take away my fun! So I finish it all off by directing only one comment upward. "Lord, why don't you just throw a few more sprinkles on everyone elses' cupcake for me!"
With that, I returned home, snuck into my sleeping house, wished I had some good drugs for my headache!--and went to sleep!
Well, so that's not the end of this story. The final step in the vicious, previously-mentioned cycle is not: Have a nervous breakdown, put on a straight-jacket and live unhappily ever after!
I returned to the doc and relayed all of the insanity to him. My bad reaction to the one medication helped tell him a lot more about what I really should be taking. He immediately took me off the crazy juice and prescribed me some totally different stuff which I am currently taking. It will, of course, take time to get everything streamlined (right dose, right time of day, etc. etc.)but it is already getting better. And I know without a doubt that the Hulk stuff was necessary to lead me to a more complete and proper diagnosis than I have ever been able to obtain in all my past attempts to get relief. Oh and get this! My new meds cost $32 and the other ones were like $200!
It's so funny how the Lord works. While I was screaming about how there were no sprinkles on my cupcake, he was busy building me a bakery! Yeah, I feel humbled. God is good. He is really good.




*If Bishop Jones comes-a-knockin' at my door, this blog will become invite only! I ain't even playin'!