Today I’m Full of I Don’t Give a Hoots

After six days on paxil, I’m almost hesitant to admit that something seems to be working. Hesitant because I have an incredible knack of jinxing myself, but I’ve gone on this far.

Before I talk about why I think it’s having a positive affect on me, I want to talk about the ambien, which is seriously trying to make render me as senseless as a box of hair. I started by taking a whole pill but that left me woozy the next day. The following night I skipped it. The third night I was laying in bed thinking, "I don’t need a sleep aid! I can fall asleep just fine on my own!" until about an hour passed with me tossing and turning before getting out of bed and taking half a tablet (scissors work pretty well for that).

Sure it puts me to sleep in a snap but by 3:30 – 4:00 a.m. I’m awake AND exhausted. By the time my day starts I feel like hell. I feel like my clients are staring at me as one eye slowly meanders to the left. Just the ONE eye so they are glancing away uncomfortably, not sure of which gaze to follow.

What sucks is that by bedtime, that fuzzy feeling has faded and I feel wide-awake. No more ambien for me, OK?!

As for the paxil, I noticed I’m not as anxious or irritable. Pretty miraculous considering I’m PMSing. Doodicus’s whining and arguing doesn’t set my teeth as far on edge as it use to. When I’m notified that a client has a problem with their account, I don’t feel my ass-cheeks clench up in defense. I’m not as quick to reply with my scripted instructions, which is a good thing. I’m waiting for them to complete their questions, to let them inhale again, before jumping in.

While I am feeling better as far as the ADs go, my husband is not. He’s annoyed that I would take the first thing offered to me; that I wouldn’t seek out a psychoanalyses; that I would dare trust a *gasp!* Physician Assistant with my mental health. Now on the other hand, if the PA had prescribed me a little blue pill that made me horny ALL. THE. TIME. he would think that PA was a freaking genius! With the aid of medication, I can just poo-pooh Sparring Partner with a dismissive wave of my hand and walk away. A week ago I would’ve punched him in the nuts.

OK, so I’m exaggerating, on both ends. It’s not THAT good and it’s not THAT bad.

Will keep you updating with all the scintillating details.

P.S. My G+ account is via my "real.name" gmail account if you are looking for me. I’m trying to switch it over to thismamasaid, but in trying to do so I gave myself a brain aneurysm. I can also be found as one of the probable hundreds under my "handle": D D. That’s first name D and last name D. Yes, I’m re-energizing my old identity for purely selfish purposes as many still know me by that in addition to my old avatar, the boxing babies.