December 2, 2021

Midnight Memories

So to set the scene I recommend listening to “Blinding Lights” by Loi. It’s probably the best version of the song and the tone of it completely encapsulates the memory I’m going to share.

The first thing my husband ever said to me was through an instant message on AOL. He let me know that he and Diego were still together and not knowing who he was (and being the annoying teenager I was) I continued on the conversation as if I knew him and what he was talking about. I finally dropped my charade and asked him who he was and it was then that I added him to my buddy list, cchuck77383. From then on I would message him whenever he came online because I just knew things with him and Diego were on the way out.

This all happened at the very end of September 2003 after an abrupt break-up with my third boyfriend. (Who has since passed of stage 4 cancer.)

I was taken by him (my husband) because he happened to share that my ex wanted him, but my husband was not even remotely interested. This made cchuck77383 immediately attractive to me.

I wasn’t a good person then and I know that now… but regardless of what got me to meet with this man doesn’t matter now. I am still here.

After things with Diego fizzled out he agreed to meet me one late night at a Denny’s.

I put on “sleeping beauty” in my bedroom, snuck out my window, and drove across town to meet this stranger I had only ever spoke with online.

He didn’t tell me what he drove, but I knew he had arrived the moment his white mustang drove past me. For the next hour or so we sat in a booth talking, while I watched him nervously spin his silver Motorola flip phone, twitch his nose, and run his index knuckle up his phantom mustache.

For whatever reason he liked me and invited me over to his apartment downtown to watch a movie.

The first thing we ever watched together was Philadelphia. Which, if you don’t know, is the story about a man dying of AIDS. He swears now he had never seen it, but I remember him telling me it was a good one to watch. However he had also just started collecting DVDs at the time and it is highly likely that he hadn’t. I tend to rely to heavily on my own memory. And I am (at times) wrong.

That early morning, when the movie had ended, he walked me to my car and kissed me, wishing me good night. I drove away thinking I would never see him again, feeling satisfied that I got to make-out with the guy my ex wanted but couldn’t have.

Little did I know that this dude would then call me every subsequent day and talk my ear off. There isn’t a day since that he hasn’t. It kills me most to know that his disease will eventually take that from me. I have spoken with him at length ever since then and to think I will have to face a day where I don’t just cuts my gut.

November 19, 2021

Leveling Out

It’s been a little over a week since I started taking Lexapro again. For the most part it has been relatively uneventful. Some mild side-effects here and there, but nothing too serious that I need to stop. There was a brief moment, when I went to visit my mother, where I genuinely had the thought of just ending all of it.

I walk in to see my mother sitting on the side of her bed. Her blue eyes are ruminating over a pair of fuzzy socks (that aren’t hers) with a print of red hearts. She looks up at me and her eyes light up for a second when she realizes it’s me.

“I was just getting ready to go to you house,” she tells me, even though she could not have had any inkling that I was coming.

“Oh yeah?” I reply, with a sappy sweet tone reserved for children and the elderly.

Her expression darkens and she says, “I don’t want to be here. I want to leave.”

That’s when I feel my emotions plunge into a dark, deep, and cool pool of water. I just couldn’t handle life anymore. I wanted this to be done.

Doing the responsible thing I immediately told both my husband and my boyfriend of my feelings. Maybe then there was some accountability and they could keep an eye on me. Although, I will say, I don’t think I could ever do it when someone was home.

After that visit with my mom, I finally understood why most often people drop their family members into a home and never visit. It’s because they don’t want to have to relive the trauma of having to say, “No, you can’t go home.” It happens every visit.

I got a little concerned with my immediate wave of depression at my visit… but when I sat down and unpacked it I knew that it wasn’t a real desire. It was momentary. A passing thought due to the overwhelming nature of my mother. My husband told me to message the doctor immediately about my thoughts (while taking the meds) but I didn’t. I don’t want to be a bother. And most likely, it was just the meds trying to balance out. Everything will be fine.

I have been feeling better today. Hopefully the medication is working and I can find a little bit of peace in all of this.

November 13, 2021

Approaching a Potential New Problem

I finally broke down and made a doctor appointment for my stomach pain. For the past, maybe, 6 months I have had this bizarrely intense pain on the left side of my stomach. It’s not ongoing. It only really hurts whenever I sleep on it for an extended time and roll over to the other side. When I do finally turn, the pain is so intense. But it is just for that single action. Otherwise I haven’t had anything else that would require a doctors appointment.

That is, until a few days ago.

I tried to eat “low carb.” What I repeatedly fail to understand is that this particular diet doesn’t work for me. I’m just not built for (or in the right headspace) to deeply deprive myself of a somewhat necessary component of my diet. Plus I love my sugar too much. I’m basically a humming bird in a human body.

After attempting this diet I got “the sads” and binge ate the entire day. I had McDonald’s for two of the meals and then ate dinner out later that night. Since then my stomach has been uncomfortable. As a result, I finally broke down and made an appointment.

I had hesitated for so long because honestly… I don’t have the time. And part of me has an assumption already in mind of what it could be or even mean. That I really don’t have the time for and not knowing means I don’t have to do anything for it. I hope I’m wrong, obviously, but the way my life has been going the last two years I wouldn’t put it past fate/god/life/my luck to fuck with me again.

Fingers crossed it’s just my flair for the overdramatics. We won’t know until midway through December.

PS I sometimes wonder if people think I’m making this shit up. Like… I’m doing it for attention.

November 10, 2021

First dose, second round

I finally broke down and requested antidepressants. Seeing as how my therapist had informed me, during my session, that I should be careful how I answer his next set of questions because if I answer incorrectly they would have to hospitalize me. While I appreciate the warning, on the other hand I’m wondering what if I really did need to be in the hospital? Now he’s told me to be cautious and dishonest to keep me from the care I need.

In this same session he set me up with a psychiatrist that could prescribe me pills. In the big scheme of things I don’t want to be medicated. In the past they have made me feel indifferent to life. I neither cared or hated it. I just was “meh” about everything. When I finally spoke with the doctor I informed her of the medications I have previously taken that have not worked. We avoided those. What we did settle on was a prescription I had started when I was 18 and was removed from for some unknown reason.

When I was 21 my then psychiatrist just up and decided the meds weren’t working and we started something else. It was then that we began this parade of pills that made my life more miserable than the last. His penultimate diagnosis was bi-polar type 2 (different than his initial “depression” conclusion) but those medications made me so unbelievably uncomfortable. After my third prescription failed to produce any results other than my discomfort I asked him if we could stop. He listened and I appreciated that.

For the past few years I haven’t needed to take anything for depression but now all I can think about is dying. Only recently has it moved into, “…if I were to do it, how would I?” And I know that’s not good.

Today I pick up my prescription for Lexapro. And let’s hope it helps me now like it did when I was 18… Except for those pesky sexual side-effects. The inability to reach climax was… not fun.