It's Okay to be Crazy. Hell, Everyone Else is Doing It!

I'm pretty open about my employment situation (or lack thereof.) Last year, I was laid off from my job. You know, my high-paying job that I HATED WITH EVERY CELL IN MY BODY. Part of me was devastated (the side that said, "How am I going to pay my mortgage? I'm a single mother, and I just bought a new car!") but the other part of me was relieved (the side that said, "I hated my job and my company anyway. Now I have a legitimate excuse to sleep in and drink during the day!")

I handled this life-changing event pretty well. I kept busy, cleaned the clutter from my house (which was 95% McDonald's toys), had lunch with friends, cruised the internet for employment opportunities I MAY be interested in. Afternoon naps were a must, and I bonded with The Kid. Unemployment paid the bills (sorta) and I was okay with my new title of SAHM (which stands for Stay-At-Home-MILF, natch.)

Fast forward eleven months. I was bored OUT OF MY FREAKIN' MIND. I lived in my pajamas and only left the house for errands. I was running out of money and sharing a blood supply with my couch. I couldn't get an interview anywhere, and I was quickly sinking into a very dark place.
By the middle of June, I was a mess. I was bored, antsy and cried at everything - including commercials. Hell, I even once sobbed when I was watching the Home Shopping Network. ("Look at those poor people...terrible acting skills and having to hock their worthless crap on HSN to boot. But at least they have a job!" *SOB*)

So I decided it was time to get some help. And not the kind of help where you have weekly appointments with a lesbian who smells like patchouli, writing notes as you cry and saying things like, "I see. I know, that's tough. Can you maybe look online for a job?" Damn. I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT. Thanks! Here's $200 for your sage advice. See you next week!

No, I needed DRUGS. I called my doctor and told him if he didn't put me on something right now, I would hunt him down like an animal and make his life as miserable as mine. (Side note: Don't mess with someone who is unemployed. We have waaaay too much time on our hands for you to screw with us.)

Perhaps it was the crazed look on my face (or my threats of keying his BMW) but he finally prescribed Wellbutrin. He said it would take a few days to get into my system but promised me it would help. (He also said it sometimes can act as an appetite suppressant. I was all, Psht. That won't help me cause it's not like I need to be hungry to eat!) Ten days later, I woke up and felt...whole.

I didn't feel like crying anymore. In fact, I felt like taking a shower! (I know, right???) Son of a bitch...this stuff was actually working! You know what it reminded me of? When I was in labor with my son, I was having contractions every couple of minutes. It SUCKED. (All you moms out there know what I mean but guys, put your balls in a nutcracker and squeeze every two minutes. Oh, did I mention the nutcracker IS ON FIRE???? Yeah. Something like that.) The nurse said, "Let me know when you're ready for the epidural." I was like, "I'm READY NOW, bitch!" Ooooooh, the relief. Sweet Mary mother of Jesus, the relief. (Another side note: Anyone who willingly goes through labor without an epidural or other form of pain relief is fucking nuts. Why the HELL would you put yourself through that????)

Anyhoo, what I'm getting at is...I'm back. I'm back to who I was before the boredom swallowed me up. (Don't get me wrong, I'm still bored as hell but the Wellbutrin is tricking my brain by turning my feelings of boredom into feelings of contentment.) Oh, oh! And get this! The appetite thing? It's working! About two weeks in, I was devouring a Culver's cheeseburger (and you don't mess with Mama when she's getting her Culver's cheeseburger on) and about halfway through it, I stopped. I was stuffed. And I mean stuffed like if I took another bite I would puke everywhere. I've lost almost ten pounds now! (I know, I know...I'm still not ready for my Playboy debut but it's a start.)

There is such a stigma about mental health issues but I guarantee that if you ask twenty people if they've ever been on anti-depressants/anti-anxiety drugs, at least 15 of them would say yes (and the other five are probably lying.) I'm not ashamed to say that I needed help after everything I had worked for in the last seven years was thrown out the window...and run over by a car...and pissed on by a bum.

Except for the alcohol. I can't really drink alcohol on Wellbutrin. Doc said once in a while was okay (which I took as only days ending in Y) but he said more than that may result in me having seizures. Awesome. It was a tough call but I figured I'd try the drugs before I reverted back to my alcohol therapy.

I'm glad I gave the drugs a shot because this is the best I have felt in the last two years. Now I just need to find a job. And some anti-seizure medication.