Damn, what a difference a day makes. Got the Prozac dosage pumped up, but I figure it’s too soon for that to be more than psychosomatic (who you callin’ a psycho?). But my first uninterrupted night of sleep in probably 2 months has done WONDERS — OTC sleeping pills don’t do shit to keep you asleep, but when Xanax says night-night, it’s bedtime, dammit!
Can’t thank all of y’all enough for all the support and wonderful comments — I promise, I’m getting back to my usual, snarky self in leaps and bounds! I’m seeing an actual talking-to therapist next week, so we’ll see how that goes (I usually hate that shit, because WHO ARE THEY TO JUDGE ME? But I’m giving it a shot).
The best therapy so far has got to be the kitteh therapy — they’ve decided how to arrange themselves on me so no one can’t be on Mommy. It starts with Mina and Ti-Jacques either laying sideways across my neck (this may have to stop when they get heavier!) or laying longways on me side by side, mooshing my boobs to the side. Yes, I have kitteh cleavage. Then Callie Jean takes up position across my hips (possibly because she’s the longest cat and therefore needs the widest part, but we’re not thinking about that!) and Marceau fills in the space between my knees. I challenge ANYONE not to be able to chill out in that position!
Today’s big challenge will be going to the WalMart without suffering a setback — but the list is short, so I may be okay. Poor Ol’ Dad came over and washed a bunch of dishes for me, so I might actually cook! I think red beans n’ rice n’ cornbread should cure what ails me!
Love y’all so much!