Today was one of those days. One of those days I just wanted to go home and crawl back into bed.
And…that’s just what I did when I got off work. And then I went to a diner and ate crappy food that totally fucks up everything I might have done positively at work when eating.
I guess I could look at it like this: I didn’t eat fast food for lunch today at work. Actually…now that I think about it I don’t think I ate anything at work today…other than snacking on a few cold cuts. So I guess really that isn’t good because your body holds on to the fat if you’re not eating regularly to give it proper nutrition. So maybe today was a total day of fuck up eating. Oh well.
At first thought when I eat something bad that I know I shouldn’t I just want to say “fuck it, love me the way I am. I need to find someone who will love me like this.” But you know that’s not true. The problem isn’t that I”m hideously overweight or ugly. I mean I am overweight…probably about 80 pounds.
Oh shit. I totally just googled “how much should a x’xx” male weight” and I’m actually, according to the chart I found online 100 pounds overweight. The “high” target weight would put me needing to lose 80 pounds…but my actual target weight means I’m officially obese if you’re going my the definition which says obese is anyone who is 100 or more pounds overweight.
Take a minute for that depressing fact to set in, why don’t we!
But you know. On another side note. When I’m thinking “rationally.” When my “medicated” mind is present I know that I’m not ugly. Yes, I’m overweight. But no, I’m not ugly. When I dress up I actually don’t look that bad. Especially when I’m having a good face day and everything. But where I live, which comes back to the original point, I just can’t find anyone who wants to date me. And the other truth is…I don’t get out there so I “can” be seen to date. Now the reason I don’t is because I’m so afraid of rejection.
It’s a double-edged sword. Sometimes I just want to give up.
But back to today….
So last Tuesday I went to the doctor to get another prescription for my “happy pills”…otherwise known as my “bitch pills” or “don’t-be-a-bitch pills” or my “don’t-kill-pills.”
Previously I had run out of my pills (I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before) so I called my doctor to make an appointment so I could get a new prescription. When I called her I found out she was no longer there. Since my life is so fucking chaotic, I had moved and got rid of my post office box so I did not know she was going to – or had – closed her practice.
When I realized all this it was too late to wait. We were in the full-blown shit-just-got-real cray cray fucking crazy-town! So, since it was too late to wait because I honestly didn’t know what I might do, I called a friend who has been on several anti-depressants in the past and is known for keeping old medication. Luckily she had some Pristiq she no longer needed.
I’ve always been kind of leery of taking medications that aren’t prescribed to me by a doctor. I don’t really like self-medicating. But I had a feeling that nothing to get worse than it already was since I was entrenched in cray-cray-ville.
So I took them, not like I was supposed to, but I was trying to stretch them out because I didn’t have money to get any more. That is a reoccurring theme with me and my medicine…not taking it like I should. Why, I don’t know. I know how good it can feel – well…not so much good as “normal” and bearable – when I take my medicine regularly. But still, I don’t.
So a couple of weeks ago I was feeling like the pills weren’t really working. I looked at the bottle and they had been expired for over a year. That, and what was probably a smaller does…not to mention not taking it every day, was probably the problem. So last Tuesday I went to the doctor for more of what I normally take.
Now, when I went, like I always do, I said I was going to start taking it every day. So far, I’ve taken it twice. In the morning I will take it for a third time and really try hard this time to take it every day. I’m tired of feeling like this. Full of despair. I won’t get anywhere like this.