Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Bummer of a birthday, Hal

I recently did this custom order for someone I met at Craft Lake City (Hi, Caitie!)

It is from Bridesmaids and it is so so funny and I want to have Kristen Wiig's babies every time I watch that scene of her getting drugged and crazy on an airplane.

Speaking of drugged and crazy, many of you know that I have underlying depression issues that will not ever go away, that I will always have. That I need my anti-depressants more than I need these glasses on my face. I usually do pretty well thanks to the Miracle of Science. Unfortunately, last week my medication stopped working. As in stop stopped. As in crashed. It was bad bad. I am doubling up my adjectives just so that you understand how horrible horrible it was. Horrible. When I get like that (maybe has happened 4 times total in my life) I shut everybody out but Mr. Floozy. And nobody gets to see me. And then Mr. Floozy and I wait it out with the help of McDonald's (McMedicine) and our doctor. (Who is really really cool (cool). It only freaked me out a little when I realized on the first visit that I went to high school with him.) 

I am now on a new medication, but the med switch was wretched.

Wretched.

I may write about it more someday. I may not. I may write an epic poem that nobody will understand but myself. Who knows.

Okay, back to this custom order. I made it for my new friend (Hi, Caitie!) for her friend whose birthday was September 11th as in yesterday. It's all been finished and delivered and everything and I hope that the recipient was pleased. During our email exchange, I couldn't help but wonder what that must be like to have a birthday on September 11th? Especially during your formative childhood years. Was it strange to have everybody solemn and depressed on your birthday? Did you ever feel like you had to hold back the celebration? Ira Glass needs your story on This American Life, so why don't you get on that, please.

Meanwhile, I am getting better and adjusting to my new brain chemistry and my heart goes out to all of you who have depression or birthdays on September 11th. 

I lurv you all. Ah-men.

Bonus points to anybody who gets my reference in the post title!

9 comments:

  1. My meds just flat out quit on me last spring. It was the most awful experience, worse than before I started it, because while I was in a pit of despair BEFORE meds when they stopped working I fell from a very high mountain back into the pit. What a shit analogy, but that was what it was like. Anyway, just wanted to say I understand, solidarity and all that. Depression sucks.

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    1. I am all about shit analogies when it comes to depression. Thanks for the solidarity!

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  2. I moved far, far away from my hometown so that I would never have awkward school classmate run-ins like that. Then Facebook screwed that up anyway. I am very glad that you like your new doctor, even if you knew him in high school!

    Lurv you too, no matter how crazy you are. :)

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  3. You gorgeous woman! Thanks for posting about something so personal. I've battled with depression my whole life, but it's only recently that I've sought any sort of help. Being brave and open about depression really helps others to face their own demons. I heart your face!

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    1. Thanks, dear Sarah. Are you coming to the workshop on Tuesday? Regardless, we need to get together soon for lunch or brunch or second breakfast.

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    2. Hell yes I am! I've been looking forward to it for WEEKS! As for a get-together, that would be the bee's knees! I have as yet unidentified food allergy business going on, so maybe we could have a picnic, and I'll bring my own vittles. Soon would be lovely. Until Tuesday, puddin'!! So near, and yet, so far. (Last sentence to be read in a Grover voice.)

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  4. I am lurving all over you.

    I can't even imagine how horrifying that whole thing is, and I always imagine some tiny little coherent part of the brain that is going "omg u crzy" in moments like those, making you feel guilty and helpless at the same time. I am sending you many unicorns that don't poop.

    I am fortunate enough to be able to self-medicate my crazy with alcohol and mental bitchslaps.

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    1. Your 'be weird' art piece on my mantle gives me strength.

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