Good Question.

Oh. My. Goddess.

Life stuff is still kicking my ass. Where is my usual optimism? My usual positive outlook? My gut knowing that all wi’ be well an’ all wi’ be well, an’ all manner o things wi’ be well?

I posted awhile ago about “Miniature Disasters” (and included the song by KT Tunstall- my theme song, it seems), and it just never seems to end lately!!! The worst thing is that all the little shit is KICKING MY EMOTIONAL ASS!!!

My late husband, my precious Jerry (my soulmale), used to say that it was the little things that got you. I’m usually pretty good with the little stuff. Hell; I’m usually pretty good with the big stuff. But this shit just doesn’t seem to end lately.

I’m not even gonna go into it all. I can’t. It’s bad enough having one bullshit problem after another exploding in my head like an evil fucking meteor shower. If I wrote it all out, I’m afraid it would make it even worse. If I had to face the list of fucked up shit- look at it all laid out, I might just blow a gasket.
I’m so. fucking. sick. of crying every day.

I think not having a car is at the bottom of it all for me, though. I haven’t been without a car for this long since I was maybe 20? Over 2 years, now since the tranny dropped out of my van. Over 2 years since I agreed that the important thing was to have a work vehicle for the GirlyBoi, since she’s the one who works away from the ranch. Over 2 years of pouring good money after bad into first that frigging piece of shit ford truck until the $1000 engine that we put into it sucked a valve (we’re not talking a little valve damage here, folks, we’re talking about a valve sucked so hard it was buried in the head of the piston about an inch deep).

So we jump thru our asses and get her another truck, need to start making payments that we can’t afford (thank Goddess we’re buying it from a friend who is able to give us some leeway on payments), but still…

Here I sit. 7 miles from nowhere (our tiny town with it’s IGA, couple of gas stations and little restaurants, a post office, a bank and more bars than any other single service) and 22 miles from a fucking Starbucks, fer chrissakes, in the middle of this godsforsaken fucking desert, trying to pretend that IT DOESN’T MATTER!!! That if I need to go somewhere, I can always take her to work and pick her up. Right! Cuz that’s a happy fucking choice for this artistic soul who hates rolling out of bed before 9 am. I really wanna get up at 6 to take her to work, and need to be on a leash that requires me back by 3 to pick her up when the round trip from here to anywhere requires an hour and a half.

Grrrr. fuck fuck fuck.

And now let’s add to thornesinternaldrama by looking at the FACT that right in the worst of all this crap when I started Atkin’s 2 months ago (one little bright spot, BTW, I’ve lost about 15 lbs), I OH-SO-WISELY decided to begin weaning myself from the Zoloft that I’ve been taking at max dose since ’99. So I’ve been on half dose for about a month now, and although I’m fairly sure that almost ANYBODY would be FUCKING PSYCHOTIC going thru what I have been lately, I can’t be sure that I’m not having a little more trouble processing, and staying emotionally balanced, than I would be had I not lowered my dose.

My reasoning was sound, when I decided to begin lowering my dose. I’m fully into menopause, finally (the mood swings and hot flashes are finally manageable and mostly predictable and I haven’t bled for over a year). I have never been one of those folks who have an issue with taking the psych meds. I haven’t played medication roulette. The Z worked for me from the beginning and I let it be so. The reason I decided to check out whether I still need it is first of all it was prescribed for PTSD after the death of my husband, and I’ve worked through all that, AND because I think that when my body chemistry changed with menopause, so did the so-called “side effect” of weight gain and the apparent resistance to weight loss.
So the million dollar question is this:

Am I so fucked up right now because of all this bullshit life stuff or am I more susceptible to it because of lowering my dose, or both?

And I suppose the second relevant question is this:

What the fuck am I going to do about it, if anything?

I don’t think I’m willing to assume it’s the meds when we’re going through so much real stuff. I’ve always been a pretty emo kinda gal anyway, and menopause has added to that considerably. I’m not sure that re-upping my meds would change that a bit. Of course, I’m not sure it wouldn’t, either. I’m sure there is a way to track this. Maybe an emotional journaling technique. Measuring on a scale of 1-10 or something and factoring in the external stressors. Perhaps some women’s herbs added into the mix. I have opted against HRT for numerous reasons, but perhaps some black cohosh or oil of evening primrose is in order. If it helps, I’d know that it’s hormonal as opposed to seratonin related. I’ve also been pretty lax with my Noni vitamins over the last couple of weeks, so that needs to be addressed and fixed NOW!

And Goddess… I really need to make some money. I need tattoo biz in the worst way. Not only for the financial problems, but also because it’s so incredibly good for my head, heart and spirit when I’m working on art projects for people.

So that’s that, for now. All I can do is what I can do. I feel better having written this and somewhat ordered my thoughts and options instead of worrying it. So yes, regular vitamins, add herbal suppliment and track this depression (or whatever it is) for 30 days. Then I’ll reassess about the Z.