So, pardon the lack of communication lately, but as mentioned I’ve been weaning off of the Effexor since it seemed to make things so much worse, and OH MY LORD is the Effexor withdrawl making me crazy. And I had thought the consistent dosage was problematic!
I was in the grocery store today, with my cart parked in an open area while my husband and I were deciding on something or other, and some woman pushed by me with the bitchiest, most insulting, most accusatory, exasperated “excuse me” I have ever heard. And sweet heavens, did I want to PUNCH HER IN THE FACE. One has to understand that I am all of 5’3” tall, size 2, and an absolute heartfelt pacifist. I quite literally apologize to bugs when I squish them in my house rather than taking them outside. And then I feel guilty about it. But damned if I didn’t want to jump her in the laundry aisle. I’m fairly sure that had she come back to get in my face, I quite sincerely would have started a produce-area brawl. …Just a bit out of character for me.
(normally I only brawl near the frozen foods)
My poor husband had the luxury of being with me all day today and joining me on the crazybus. I’ve been ferociously irritable, and very, very mentally vacant (which mostly means that I know I’m really mad. …I’m just not sure why). We split up for a moment during the grocery excursion, and I literally had to go back and ask him what one of the TWO whole items I had gone to get was. …Then proceeded to forget what the other one had been by the time I got to the appropriate area. I eventually remembered, since I knew it had to be something nearby, but it was frigging difficult, let me tell you. In the span of about an hour my mental faculties went from reasonably strong to sea cucumber. Except at least sea cucumbers seem to know what they’re doing down there. I’m being BEATEN OUT by sea cucumbers.
Oh…and the cravings. I want to eat. Anything. Everything. And I don’t just want to eat, I want to OVEReat. Until I’m bursting. I want to eat until I physically cannot stuff anything else in my stomach, and then start looking sideways at my ears and nostrils, like maybe something edible would fit in there… We passed by the bakery section today to get some tortillas, and I literally stopped dead in front of a package of double chocolate cookies. Two dozen double chocolate cookies. And I wanted to eat every single one. Right there. I know that this is not good for me. I realize that rationally I have worked very hard to get myself down to my current weight, and do not want to lose all of that progress in one or two months of sweet, sweet indulgence. But I also REALLY, REALLY want to eat those cookies. I was trying to explain my dilemma to my husband (who was trying to be supportive, but really just wanted to exit the store now. …Preferably without a wife suddenly 24 cookies larger).
“Something is seriously messed up with me right now. I just really, REALLY badly want to eat that whole package of cookies and punch somebody.”
A moment later, still standing in front of the cookies, as my will is strong enough not to have put them in my cart or mouth, but not quite strong enough to leave them, I am asking with pleading tones if it wouldn’t be justifiable to get the cookies, since I was so good and didn’t punch anyone.
No,…I didn’t really think so either.
(I did not get the cookies. …But I still want them. A lot. Distractingly so, really.)
So life, it seems, is going to be a bit of a roller coaster for a while.
And my husband may or may not come home from work next week to find me stuffing cookies in my ear.