HOT MESS

So as I was saying… Monday got off to a rocky start.

I wasn’t really exaggerating when I said I kinda wanted to die there for awhile. Zane wishes all of our Mondays could start this way. (Take note of the heavy usage of sarcasm that you would hear in my voice if you were so lucky as to be here, and I was telling you this loveliest of stories in person).

My alarm went off at 7:03 am (I have a thing against alarms going off at perfect hours, the odd numbers should get a chance too, don’t you think?) I remember feeling especially groggy. And then my to-do list starting running laps in my head. I’d been too tired to attempt to pack or clean up the apartment the night before & the clock was tic-tocking at me. Best way to make it stop? Hit the snooze button.

At 8:17 I heard a doorbell. It was my phone because I thought it would be interesting to have a doorbell sound for my ring tone. (The logic is unclear even to me.)

It was Sarah. When I said, “hello?” I heard Mrs. Ault say: “oh no, I woke you up didn’t I?” I told her that no, and in fact, my alarm had already gone off & I really needed to have gotten up about 45-minutes ago, but obviously hadn’t. “Oh sweetie… how are you feeling today…?” (in her sympathetic baby voice). She knew that yesterday had been rough from our text-versations. I told her I’d call her in awhile.

I stumbled into the shower. TOTAL FOG. Like waking up drunk & trying to function. That kind of fog. Except I wasn’t drunk. I started throwing stuff in the army bag that we put our “cosmetics” in when something made me look twice at my anti-depressant pill bottle.

That minor little detail that caught my eye? The name: ZANE RATHBUN. What is Zane’s name doing on MY pill bottle? I looked closer. Oh.My.Freaking.Word.

I ran into our bedroom & threw the bottle at Zane. It bounced off his leg & fell to the floor. I half yelled/half cried: “This is why I feel so bad!!!!!!!”

And then I promptly collapsed onto our bed. My hair is dripping wet & I’m just in my towel still. & Zane just rocked me in his arms.

I cried & cried. I cried harder as the reality of what I’d done sunk in further.

For the past THREE days I had been taking Zane’s anti-nausea pill instead of my anti-depressant.

I was dumbfounded. All I could do was cry. I felt like I’d been punched.

It all made so much sense now.

• Why I’d almost fallen asleep at my desk on Friday night. (they make you drowsy)
• And then came home & slept for like 10-hours without the aid of a xanax which is the only thing that allows me to sleep at all since I started taking the anti-depressant.
• And why I’d felt soooo sad on Sunday & started crying for no reason at all at different times thru-out the day. (Zoloft left my system)
• And why I’d eaten like I was starving child in Africa all day. (Zoloft takes away my appetite, but no Zoloft so therefore LARGE appetite)
• And why I felt UNBELIEVABLY horrible this morning. (Again... NO HAPPY PILLS in my system!)

I totally see why they specifically warn you against going off anti-depressants abruptly without first speaking to your dr.

Um… yah, proooooobably because you feel like someone drop kicked you from a plane and you bounced down a mountain of frozen dog s***!!!

I literally felt like someone was pressing their entire body weight against my heart (especially if that person was as large as a sumo wrestler) & someone forgot to turn off the faucet behind my eyelids. It was the feeling of sadness on steroids.

We were supposed to be packed & ready before our counseling appointment so we could head south from Julian’s house. But it was all I could do to put clothing on. And Zane didn’t push me for more then that.

I asked if we could stop for coffee. I waited outside while Zane ordered for us. He handed me my cup and we walked toward the car.

By the time we’d reached the door I was bent over in uncontrolled sobs. The kind that makes you clutch your tummy & sometimes drool escapes. I just kept repeating: “I don’t want to feel like this.” Over & over again.

I called my Mom. I tried to tell her what i did, but she couldn’t understand the words between the sobs. Zane finally took over.

My mascara left trails of black from my lashes down to my jaw. Julian answered the door. She took one look at me & then to Zane & said: “um so how are we feeling today?”

I said. “You talk baby. I just can’t.”

By the time we left, I felt so much better. I love Julian & my husband. 

I'd also taken the right happy pill before we'd left. I'd like to think it was beginning to happily swim thru my blood at that point. 

I'd had to snort at my ridiculous self when Julian said: "um maybe until Anna is feeling like herself again, maybe you should check her pill bottle before she puts the wrong one in her mouth again Zane." 

omigosh... it's a preview of life in a nursing home. or a mental hospital. hey. maybe that's coming sooner then i think...?