The last week has been a bit, how would you say it, umm, 'trying'. About a month ago I made the decision with my doctors to come off a drug my idiotic former primary care doctor put me on seven years ago. It was an off label usage and I've since learned the only real thing it did for me for those years was addict me to it.
I've tried in the past to get off it, sensing that it wasn't having any desired effect on my IBS/Colitis, only to get to about the three week mark in weaning off and finding myself filled with hateful rage at everyone and everything for no reason at all. I'm there again. The difference is that I've decided to push on through and get it completely out of my system and vow to never take this class of drugs ever ever again.
Getting off it is like walking around with a heightened sense of irritation with everything crossing your path. You wonder if you are going to snap and start bitch slapping each person in your path to try and defuse that irrational irritation and anger.
Figured if it went physical at least there's three hots and a cot in jail, plus I'd have all the time I wanted for reading and crochet. Could be worse.
But I'm gritting my teeth and powering on through, determined to badass my way pass my temporary sociopathic feelings. I understand now why sometimes people snap and croak everyone in their paths.
Used to get this way on high dose steroids before I developed a steroid intolerance. Once asked my old pastor how God viewed these times of anger and less than rational thought processes. Was it sin? Could He judge me for the feelings and actions happening due to chemicals boiling the brain? Patrick assured me that God has mercy when we cannot help ourselves to do something beyond our control driving us. I have to wonder now if that also includes when people snap and do things like kill others in the grip of mental illnesses. I just don't know. Doesn't seem fair to judge actions beyond your control.
My Grumpkinism started on Thursday when I went down to the stores of Madison with my old friend Joanie. She did like she always does and overreacted more than a handful of times to my driving habits and I itched to slap her. I itched to slap her when she asked me several times about stopping to eat. We both had lunch at 12:30 and I wasn't even remotely hungry by 3pm, but she was. I was intolerant and judgmental in my mind, refusing to stop for a meal. Around three we did stop at the Mennonite grocery store we both love and she was able to get something to eat there.
It's a good thing I was able to control my mouth because I ran into four former members of my old church at the Mennonite store. They all stuck their noses in the air and didn't speak, but so did I. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I had no patience for their old peahen selves. I've cut my hair super short, was wearing shorts and a beautiful summer tank top with no bra. I'm sure they all went home and clacked and babbled to the others that I looked like a 'lesbian'. When the rumors get back to me I'm sure they will be amusing.
By Saturday I was in full annoyance mode as I wrapped Andy's birthday presents and made Unicorn Barf Smores instead of a birthday cake.
Tip on making Unicorn Barf. Never use real butter and homemade marshmallows in it or the two will turn to toffee when you heat them up. It was delicious, just not as visually impressive as Unicorn Barf usually is.
We took Andy out to dinner for his 26th birthday. Had a good time despite having to walk out of the first restaurant because the waitstaff had made us wait 15 minutes and we'd still not had any waitstaff member take our drink order. The restaurant wasn't busy, and the staff was strolling around like bored teenaged zombies. I sort of... er... went off on the hostess and we left, walking within full view of the staff to the restaurant right next door, where we were waited on immediately.
When we got home I logged into No Longer Quivering to see if I needed to approve any comments only to find someone going nuttier than I. A Good Christian(tm) woman from San Antonio, Texas wanting to tell us all how wrong we were about the Duggar family. The comments started out nice and quickly ran to calling us 'cunts', 'bitches' and 'whores'. Why was she so pissed off? Because I wasn't sitting right there to approve her comments immediately. Obviously never bothered to read the comment rules page.
Normally something like that would make me laugh, but after leaving the site for only six hours to come back to someone trying to nastily excoriate me was so frustrating I was ready to toss the computer out of the window, fly to San Anton to kick her ass and quit admining NLQ. It was well after 2 am before I got her banned, comments cleaned up and sorted and the site comment queue back to a semblance of normal. She'd left well over a hundred comments in the time I'd been gone and there were a pile of wacky racist ones by someone else.
Sunday was peaceful, church, a nap and Mad Men. But Memorial Day was.. memorable.
It was day three that Jim had been home and he'd started to rub me the very wrong way, nagging me as I was still in bed to get up and work on an experimental web site he wanted followed by going to work out. I was in full pissed off mode at the gym, scowling at all the casual exercisers treating the gym like a social function, biting my lip to keep from barking "Get the fuck out of my way!" at people stopping to have conversations with others while I power walked on the track.
But when we got home I got to feeling even more irritated so I decided to wash my car, followed by Jim complaining that I needed to wash his too. I did, but I grumbled at him that I didn't see why he couldn't wash his own. When he did come over to 'help out' he kept spreading my car wash kit every which way, complaining he couldn't use my 'space aged vacuum cleaner' because he couldn't figure out the off/on switch, complaining about the lime, coconut oil and seawater organic cleaner I use on the inside of the car. I could feel my temper rising so chose to run to the grocery store for steaks and the veggies we'd need.
I knew with it being Memorial Day that the supermarket was going to be crowded, I just didn't count on some kid running around eating a hot burrito colliding with me and dumping three quarters of the burrito down tank top and bra. I chewed the kid and mom out before stomping off with my kale and sirloins.
Get home and my cat Kiki throws up on me while I'm holding and petting him. Meaning I had to go change clothes for the second time in two hours. Then Jim started waxing his car and nagging me to help him buff it. I know what I'm going to get him for Fathers Day now, an electric buffer.
But the day ended on a better note, we had a lovely dinner of asparagus and tiny baked potatoes from the garden to compliment our steak. Plus I'd downloaded and started reading Michael Pearl's book "Holy Sex" I haven't laughed that hard since watching a "Robot Chicken" marathon. He's so over the top disgusting.
Today has been better. I've run errands without wearing some kid's burrito or shouting at anyone even if I'm still feeling jittery and jumped up. I hope this ends soon.