The end of the line?

All summer we sat around complaining of the heat, sleeping in, staying up late, slacking off, eating crap.... sweet sweet summertime... and then 2 weeks into school for the bigger boys and BAM... the cold germs were all, hey there! How ya been?? Let me just climb up in ya body and cozy up with your respiratory system. So comfy in there. WTH?! Every. year. Yuck. Always awesome when I'm sick too, because I don't get a break... just like every other mother on the face of this earth. Except like rich moms, with nannies and shit. They're all here take my kid whether they feel good or not. Oh and sea turtle moms... don't they like lay their eggs on the beach and walk off? You're on your own bitches, better learn how to feed yourself real fast!

I realize I've started another random blog post here folks... bear with me... I'm trying to reign it all into focus a bit because there is something I do wanna talk about here. (Obviously, right?) You all know a bit about me through random postings and bios and whatever. Some folks actually know me. Mostly I try to maintain a bit of anonymity though. Past experience has taught me that this is the best way to avoid drama in ones life, mostly because certain douchy people like to be judgmental, gossipy pains in the ass. If you want to be judgmental, please exit stage left or right. I really don't care. Just go. Now. Thanks. Reason being, I'm about to lay out some of my personal business here, and I don't need crap.

I may be a wee bit paranoid.
... and a lot bit depressed.
.... and insane amounts of anxious.

I've touched on this a bit before. Glazed over it. Covered it with laughter and wrapped it in sarcasm. It  is what I do. Like icing on a jacked up cake. I'm not sure when I actually put a name to what I've dealt with for so long. I'm certain it was long before the loss of my first set of twins, and the marriage counseling, and the therapy, the pills, the affairs, and the imminent destruction of my first marriage. I think I knew back in high school that my bad days were more than just raging or waning teenage hormones. I know now that genetics had a lot to do with it, and that my fully functional dysfunctional 'normal' family had a hand in it too. Depression is a nasty bitch that hangs around and thrives on anxiety. Even now, even medicated, it's lurking in my life. And now, based on insane amounts of research Sgt. Dad has done for me, it appears that these pills that I am on may be worse than the beast itself. So now what? I can't drop them cold turkey, I've been on them too long. The effects will apparently be debilitating regardless, and I intend to wait until Sgt. Dad comes home before I set anything into motion. The doctors just want to swap one pill for another. Sgt. Dad is looking at herbal remedies. I just want to refill my wine glass and sleep it off. Unfortunately, I'm a wife, and a mother, and right now I am the only one taking care of this house- sad state that it's in by the way... so that is not an option.

Not sure why I'm sharing this. Perhaps I have been inspired by others around me. Doesn't really matter why. I blog, therefore I share. And let me share this gem while I'm at it- Cymbalta is evil. Try not to get hooked on it. Seriously. No joke here. I'm beginning to deal with cognitive impairment, memory loss, and this awesome little thing people have termed brain zaps, or brain shivers where I feel completely disoriented for a hot minute. Not to be confused with hot flashes, because apparently I'm having those too. Perhaps coping with the beastly depression would have been better than coping with this....

So, while Martha Stewart clearly does not live in my house, it is becoming evident that I am not quite all here either....
It's my hope that I can continue to blog while attempting to ween myself off these unsuspecting brain leech pills... it makes for good self-therapy. (Is there such a thing?? If not, well then, I just made that up so HA!) It's bound to make for some interesting reading, right?
Hold on folks!.... we're in for a bumpy ride!