three things…

  1.  Gotta admire those who choose to follow my blog when I’m not writing regularly.  You are a Bad.  Ass.  (Meant to be a compliment.)
  2. WTF kind of word is “executrix?”  Actresses should be known as actors.  Executrix-es should be known as executors.  No need to call out genders, especially if the female one contains “trix.”  DISCUSS.
  3. And, the new copier at work says, “Recovering from sleep mode,” when it is gearing up from economy mode.  Whoever wrote that, please find me with your technological prowess.  We need to be a couple.  Seriously…”recovering” from “sleep?”  This person gets it.

The end.


If you had diabetes you would treat it, right?

thThat’s what my doctor said to me this morning at about 7:45.  Why do I make appointments so early?!

I am depressed.



All that aside, I put the stigma on it.  My parents didn’t assign the stigma, in fact both of them had depression and treated it at times, I’m not close to anyone who stigmatizes depression as a “made up” condition.

But I do.

It’s me.

And I don’t like myself very much.  I wouldn’t treat other people that way, but for me, I don’t want to be a card carrying member of the depression tribe, and yet, I am.

I’m kind of bitch in that regard.

Also, a downer.

I thought I was a “new” person.  I didn’t have “conditions” anymore.  I was free of “-” and loving life.  Slimmed down, dating, happy with my job, free of prescriptions, and then BAM.  I started to binge drink again, then stopped that, and started to binge eat.  That is a scary thing, let me tell you.  What an out of control feeling.

All my “anxiety” conditions came back — the psoriasis, the IBS, the emotions that spill out of their hiding places at the WORST possible times, and the inability to sleep.

I was married and depressed.  Then I was single and depressed.  Then I was single and happy.  Now I’m single and depressed.

The fact is, whatever’s going on, it could happen on top of depression.  Or not.  It’s very often the denominator under the good and bad numerators on top.

I started calling in sick to work.  Lying very often about battling migraines, which I used to have, but don’t have any more.  It’s one of those excuses that works.  People usually just say, “Respect.  Get better.”  Even though they were seeing signs of depression in me before I was.

I knew I had to see my doctor when I called in “sick” to work one day, but also had to cancel my appointment with my therapist.  Also an early morning thing…but I LOVE to talk to her.  If I wanted to hide from even her, I was sliding down that sinkhole again.

I ran out of Ativan.  I ran out of Bentyl.  I ran out of Prozac.  But, today I got all my prescriptions renewed.  I will ask to see my therapist more often for a while.  I have a follow up with the doctor to see how the meds are working for me this go-round.

What took me so long?  Didn’t I used to shake my head at “bipolars” and “schitzos” who went off their meds because they felt better?  They were FINE?  Who does that to themselves?


I did that.

I need to tell myself I am treating a chronic condition I have — an imbalance  that must be corrected — not so unlike diabetes or high blood pressure.

I have things I want to do.  I can’t do them because I’m so exhausted with myself.  Another depression sign.  I hope, and my history has shown, if I introduce some missing chemicals into my ecosystem, I can probably get up and take the steps.

“Better living through chemicals,” a friend of mine says.  It’s funny, but I feel resigned.  I’m a depressive.

I wish I could stop judging myself for something I can’t control, but I can’t.  There’s no one to blame for judging me anymore.  Except me.  The person who put four “I”s in the previous sentence.

Pssst…I’ve broken out of law firm jail for a min


First read this:

Have I posted that before?  Well said


My new boss is like “-” in A LOT of ways.  Very similar birthdays.  Sorry Sags (rhymes with badges)…I don’t see the charm.  Well, I see the charm, but it’s not worth all the other stuff that goes with it.  To me anymore.

He’s hot, he’s cold.  He’s high, he’s low.  He’s professional, he’s bopping me on the head with rolled up paper.  Yes.  That happened.  So weird…This week has been blessedly low.

That’s it for now.  I hear the jailor…

Rights and Wrongs. You don’t scare me, Beginning of 2017.


Full moon is gone.

Friday the 13th is gone.

Cancer isn’t gone, but at least it’s not as “here” as it was a couple of days ago.

That horoscope was wrong — my relationship didn’t fall apart on 1/12.

So, there you go.  Wrongs look right and things you read that you assume are right are, in the words of Trump,



“You’re wrong.”


“Fake news.”

I think I may be one of those people who desperately looks for answers outside of myself, when they are completely ignored on the inside.

Sun is shining.

It is not dark when I get out of my work building anymore.

You don’t scare me January!


Holiday Hangover / Malaise Haze

thA few days ago I wrote about that tingly feeling — anticipation of something good and fun and magical.

Yeah, that’s fizzled away.

In fact, for some, or several, reasons, I have what I’m calling a Holiday Hangover.  And/or, a Malaise Haze.  I drank enough of a bottle of wine last night to say to myself, “Hmmm…did I trip over the cat because I drunk?”  I ate the leftover Chinese food.  All of it.

And then I topped it all off with a pint of “high protein/low calorie” ice cream.  It really should have been “ice cream” put in quotes.


I feel awful today.

Also, my horoscope says I will “be tested.”  I didn’t really think that would be physically, although I am being self-inflicted tested physically for sure.  I didn’t take it as being tested in a Biblical way, but maybe in a spiritual way?

None of my usual joys sound interesting.  I feel very sluggish and tired.  I wish I could have stayed in bed, but I pulled that already this month.

Am I unraveling?  Why now?  Where did all the mojo go?

I also heard a full moon is coming.  That seems to be part of the swings I have, as well.

But, I put on my big girl panties and am suffering through work, and by that I mean going to the bathroom a lot and blogging.  And trying to get up to speed on Snapchat.

You’re welcome, whomever I’m trying to please with this embarrassing display…

A swing back in the other direction would be appreciated…

Any time now…