I really have no reason or purpose in blogging tonight, other than I am NOT watching the Super Bowl, and everyone else in the entire country seems to be watching the Super Bowl, people in other countries are watching the Super Bowl, beings on other PLANETS are watching the Super Bowl, but I am not. I hate football, and so to watch a RILLY IMPORTANT GAME of a sport I despise was not high on my list of things to do with my Sunday night. Anyway, no one invited me to a party, (probably because everyone I know is well aware of the fact that I hate football) so poo on everything, nyah.
That paragraph was bordering on a tantrum, was it not? Well is to be expected, as this week has been the opposite of fun, and I will tell you why. It all has to do with my medications doctor, and how he went fucking AWOL this week, leaving me without one of my prescriptions. Lemme tell you the monologue that goes on in my head when my meds get fucked up. This could be triggering for people who are suffering from depression right now, so if you don't want to or can't deal with some pretty heavy self-loathing monologue, skip the italicized paragraph, and we'll get back to the blog entry. For those who are curious, here's what my inner voice has been screaming for the last few days:
"No one loves you. No one cares about you. You know why? Because you're a stupid, fat, ugly, selfish, self-obsessed, whiny, self-indulgent bitch who doesn't deserve anything good to happen to her. In fact, the bad things that happen in the world? Those things happen because you're a bad person. You should just end it all, honestly, but of course you won't, since you're also a coward. So go on "living" this "life" you have and quit your bitching about how no one will ever love you. You know why no one will ever love you? Because you. Are. Unlovable. Broken. CRAZY. Too much work, too much effort needed for such a pathetic excuse for a human being. So go on existing, but never forget, never ever for a second, that you will always be alone, always be miserable, and always, always, will know that no matter what, you are a bad person, and that's why bad things happen. You deserve it. You deserve all the pain in the world. So shut up and smile, bitch. Cause no one wants to hear it."
So THAT'S been fun.
Anyway, I am sitting here, dealing with the aftermath of that inner monologue (it's much quieter now, thankfully) and plotting ways to take revenge on my meds doc, who has ignored phone calls from me, my therapist, the drugstore, me again, the drugstore again my therapist again…it goes on and on. So of course, since he is evil and must be destroyed, i have the following to say to my doctor.
Who the hell do you think you are? You better be lying dead in a ditch somewhere for ignoring my pleas for help over the last few days. Do you think this is a joke? That a person can go cold turkey off of 80 mg of Prozac and just "deal with it" until you get around to calling the pharmacy? Well. I am here to tell you that this is not the case, not by a long shot. I have been in hell, put there by your lack of professionalism, and let me tell you that I don't toss the word "malpractice" around lightly, but what you are doing constitutes just that. Also, you are an asshole and a douchebag, and if I spend another session with you sitting patiently as you READ YOUR MAIL while I pay you A LOT OF MONEY I will not yell and scream, oh no. I will use my calmest demeanor possible to inform you that you are a disgrace to the field of psychiatry, and that your cavalier attitude towards getting me my medication almost resulted in me doing something very rash this weekend. That didn't happen, thankfully, but it wasn't because of you. It didn't happen because I have people in my life that I love with all my being, and the thought of hurting them keeps me safe from myself.
I'm sure this little note does nothing to you emotionally, but I needed to say it. I hope you had yourself a lovely weekend. Asshole.
No regards whatsoever,