Monday, April 11, 2011

My Nervous Breakdown is Inevitable! And *Totally* NOT My Fault.

Lately, something I only recently admitted accepted as "anxiety" (you may have heard of this, no?) has been slowly but surely taking over mah free time. Which, since I'm a glorious stay-at-home-mom, is pretty much a LOT of time. (By free, I basically mean I'm not getting PAID for it, not that I'm doing anything whimsical and/or awesome with said time. Like painting pony stained glass projects.)

I lie in bed each night, my eyelids *SNAPPING* open as if I'd just mainlined some quality crystal meth instead of spent the last few hours unwinding to the sounds of American Idol and/or the sweet, sweet taste of my Dole apple-crisp-in-a-cup. When I'm all "hey brain, I control YOU, homie, so STFU YO" it quiets down for about 2.3 nanoseconds and before I know it, I'm weighing the pros and cons of arson. Or purchasing vacuum cleaner bags online instead of in the store. Shipping vs. gas? It's a weighty debate. It takes forever to fall asleep when it used to be a superpower. I'm tired, a lot. Coffee isn't working and I can't afford cocaine (anymore) like the other stay-at-home-moms.

I have some meds for this situation, and because my doctor won't come off the good shit is responsible, it's something called "Buspar" which does fuck-all nothing for the gnawing weasel that is Anxiety in my head.

I looked it up today and saw two things that are, um, concerning.

Here's one:

Contraindication (fancy way of saying "don't try this at home"): "{Asthma, history of bronchiospasm or obstructive airways disease." Well, as you die-hards know, I certainly have ASSma. I'm sure it's NOTHING to worry about.

Now this one...

"Extreme levels of caffeine ingested while taking buspirone may result in extreme nervous breakdowns, followed by amnesia of the event." Wow. I'm actually sort of psyched about that one! Am I right? All I have to do is head off on that crime spree I've been planning and BAM! Airtight defense. It was the Diet Mt. Dew and the Buspar, officer, I don't remember a THING.

Then again, what constitutes an "extreme" nervous breakdown? I thought your garden variety breakdown is pretty....serious. Does an "extreme" breakdown involve becoming Charlie Sheen? Will I start calling myself a Warlock and launch a speaking tour? If I did, I clearly wouldn't remember it. I'm still angling for that nice month in rehab....

I should really go off and "journal" for awhile (ignoring the noun that somehow became a verb) because allegedly it will get my anxiety to take a breather for awhile.

Remember when I need an alibi, it wasn't *MY* fault.

Comments, questions, what is contraindicated in your life?

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