I would like to be a person who is free of brain chemical-altering stuff. And for the strange, teary moments last night I might like to ask for a bit of a break.
I feel a shorter fuse.
* Looking for things that are missing makes me totally disgusted with myself for misplacing it in the first place.
* When I look for the third time in a place where I did not find it the first time, I continue The Madness
* I don't want to hop back on the pills because of a few new, possibly related to the sudden absence of the medication, moments of difficulty.
I'd like your help.
* Possibly I picked a strange time to stop the chemicals. I'm never going to find a time that I can deem perfect for such an endeavor.
* Please, please, please give me a break. Don't label behavior of mine with a stronger word than is fair. Ballistic wasn't it. I felt short-fused and teary and made a poor choice in how I behaved. I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat. Then you added a condescending and shouting voice and I'll nearly always just walk away from that.
* It might be nice to have a moratorium on the scrutiny of my behavior. If we keep deeming it inappropriate, I'll be more likely to start taking the damn meds again.
* All This Crap is quite possibly simply related to the withdrawal of the chemicals.
* I need to learn to navigate new, sharper feelings.
* Sometimes I won't do so well.
* You'll probably get to witness Those Times.
* I'll go away from here in less than a week, and we need to drink heavily from the Life is Too Short cup.
It's difficult to determine what is related to the sudden, cold-turkey and self-prescribed withdrawal of the meds. I'm crossing my fingers that the short fuse before extreme frustration is one of those yucky withdrawal symptoms. Right up there with rubberbanding in my ears and wakefulness in the night. But even if it's a feature of Monica Not on Paxil, I'm going to try to work with it.
And apparently, I'm going to do so by blogging about it.