Wow, I'm a slacker. Total. Slacker.

Being on the Twitter last night I realized it's been a while since blogging. 

Anyone else having a "WTF" moment every time you hear of a friend-of-a-friend getting a divorce?  I have two FOFs (friend of a friend) getting divorced and they both have small children - two each!  PHUCK.  I'm not sure how I would do at being a single parent because, already, there are many nights where I'm all, "It's gonna be PBJ tonight again!"  Because going back to work has done this to me.  I'm no longer able to wear my string of pearls and kitten heels while vacuuming the living room with my right hand and a martini in the left. 

Nope.  Now it's more - martini in the left hand while punching keys with the other on my laptop to get work emails out.  (Kidding of course). 

Dear Jesus, your party was awesome but now I need a break.

The past week has been crazy busy with parties, a "family" get-together with in-laws and now being off from work a week to take care of my toddler.  B.U.S.Y.  And, now, I feel all "hungover" from Christmas lights, trees, snowmen and shopping that the idea of crawling into a hole with my bottle of Xanax is very tempting. 

In retrospect I feel this past year, or even four years, has gone by so fast that the time to accomplish anything has been permanently frozen.  On hold.  I can hear the Muzak in the background.  I'm my own worst critic and I feel as though, by now, my resume should not only read "New Mother!" and "Postpartum depression survivor!" but also "Masters Degree!" and "World traveler!" But, it does not.  Personally, relationship-wise, so much has happened that squeezing anything else into my life, even one that resembled a piece of lint would have pushed me over the edge of a dramatic, movie-esque style cliff. 

One of my dreams is to go to France.  Particularly to look up my family's history and, well, drink lots of wine, eat a ton of cheese with baguettes and marvel at the Eiffel Tower.  My husband has almost no desire to go and the reason I know this is because every time I mention it (which isn't often) he has the most blank look on his face.  It's disheartening.  There are so many things I would love to do and wish my husband would at least be enthusiastic, if only to entertain me.  Or at least pretend to be interested.

My goal this year is to f*cking go to France.  I'm going to be 35.  Some things, some dreams cannot be put on hold forever.  I'm tired of listening to the f*cking Muzak.

Unicorns + Twitter = Kim Jong Dead

I'm not good in math so the above title is probably horribly incorrect.  All I do know is that unicorns make the world a better place and Twitter does a good job of having dead people (like Kim Jong Il) trend.  I'm assuming he did die because it's on Twitter and all is true on Twitter.  Right?  Below are some very important tweets from me that you may have missed (they are all unrelated to each other, so don't get confused):

I'm sure that was Kim Jong's last request: To be trending on Twitter.

@exlibris yes! FUCK OFF anxiety!! You are a horrible houseguest with no good hostess gifts. You don't even bring the "good" muffins. Rude.

Yes, I am repeating myself. It's the coffee. RT Spammers should be strapped to Santa's sleigh and fed to the reindeers. #SpamSucks

Would be ok to just leave some Xanax on the table for the babysitter? "Sorry we don't have any good snacks, but..here you go?"

Oh and spammers you can keep your f*cking iPads. Stop spamming me!!! I don't even touch "spam" out of the can!

@postpartumprogr Tom Cruise can suck my big left toe. Seriously. It's my really bad looking toe.

My X-mas list and it doesn't include toys.

• One night of 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
• A laundry fairy to come to my house every day for a year.  Or even a week. Or day?
  
• More blissful cuddles with my toddler. 

• My car to be clean of all the Elmo crackers, apple bits and Starbucks cups.
• A clean tub.  You know, a tub that stays mildew free, for like more than a day.

The most important thing on my list:  I really, truly wish that no moms would have to deal with anxiety, postpartum depression ever again.  Because anxiety and depression are bitches. 

Oh and world peace and..stuff.  Internet, what is your Xmas list?

My blog is naked, psychiatrists and bipolar disorder

When I glance at my blog every now and then it looks so naked compared to other blogs in my reader.  If you have any recommendations on how to dress it up, classy-style, let me know please.  Also, I'd like a simple, new design in the header.  This is where I wish I knew graphic design.  If anyone is willing to help me, please let me know and I will be sure to give you credit on this site although, I'm not able to pay in dollar bills right now.  And my number of dirty pictures is lacking.  Actually, I have dirty pictures, but they mostly look like this:  

My appointment with my psychiatrist, doctor woman... I'll call her Dr. Socks for now- it went well and felt productive although she has diagnosed me as having "low spectrum bipolar disorder." Also, from what I have described to her, my experiences include "rapid cycling" which is new to me.  Years ago, upon being diagnosed with "major depression" and anxiety I always assumed it was depression and when I swung up into a better (usually awesomer!!!) mood it was just me balancing out.  Back then I didn't go to a psychiatrist but just my general practitioner who is not trained in psychiatric medicine. 

Dr. Socks explaining to me what had happened with the rapid cycling made sense.  It has taken me over 10 years to be properly diagnosed as I've only been seeing Dr. Socks for almost 2 years.  In her defense I wasn't experiencing "hypomania" very often.  Hypomania and it's cousin I like to call "Crash" have only made appearances a few times and I never brought it up to her since it just appeared I was in an "awesomer" mood.  Dr. Socks says I am in the "low spectrum, barely-there, bipolar disorder" group. 

Also, Dr. Socks explained to me, that since Toddler is now 3 that my depression, anxiety, etc can no longer be called "Postpartum Depression" which makes sense.  Although, it feels that since giving birth my brain chemistry has just been whacky.  Like, f*cking whacky.  Sometimes, I swear my brain just lets out long sighs.

My upcoming psychiatrist appointment.

I have an appointment with my psychiatrist this week.  About two months ago she ended our appointment by mentioning she believes I may be on the low end of the spectrum for bipolar disorder.  No idea what this means.  I do know that my Zoloft has petered out and that it seems to have no affect on me like it did when I first started to take it. 

I also know that manic episodes have been happening and, although, the episodes feel fabulous when they are taking place, the end is not so fabulous - it feels as though my mind melts and I fall  into a depressive episode.  Neither episode, the manic or depression afterward, seem to last  very long. 

My appointment is Thursday.  Wish me luck! [Insert sound of crickets here]

Antibiotics, tequila and pneumonia.

Turns out it was not the flu, but pneumonia.  (I always pronounce "PEE-Nemonyah" because that's what it looks like when written out).  I'd like to give thanks to antibiotics and whoever invented(?), discovered(?) them because, seriously, I know why people were dying of this sh*t way back when.  Well, people still do apparently.  This I learned when looking up pneumonia on WebMD.  Note to self:  Do not look up scary sh*t online, especially when you have it.

I drank a shot of tequila last night since my doctor FAILED to give me anything for this horrendous cough.  And, Robitussin just ain't workin'.  So, today I called my doctor to have her give me the good-stuff-laced-with-codeine because I want to be able to sleep at night, or at least until my toddler decides to wake up at 3:47am to climb into bed with us (END RANT). 

A nap is now in order.