Because you see, there's a limit to what Prozac can handle, even with my extremely treatable clinical depression. And my life reached that limit at about 3 p.m. today. (It would have happened long ago if this winter hadn't been blissfully warm and sunny. Yes, I'm SAD, too!) I almost felt a physical CLUNK as the pieces fell into place. This is how it happens: I deal with the stress as best I can while it builds up to the bursting point and because I don't know where that point will be at any given time, I suddenly and unexpectedly end up crossing the line into the "red zone" and POW! depression hits. Then it's too late and no amount of anti-depressants can counter it and I'm completely paralyzed and my life just gets worse because I'm no longer dealing with the things that need dealing with.
Things that need dealing with: mostly money.
- The $640 we still owe our attorney for ignoring us and doing very little preparation for the trial he lost for us. [Note that this is in addition to the several thousand we already paid him; he's not starving or anything.]
- The $XXXX.XX mortgage check that bounced because our checkbooks are both blue and my husband has too many things to think about to pay attention to which account actually has money in.
- The $500 in bills from our insurance company to make up its error from last fall. No, they didn't bother asking nicely, they just had Guido and Luigi send a "This is a collection notice" collection notice.
- The bill from the storage place for $80 we already paid them.
- Paying the fancy counselor my husband has to see for the next year or so in an effort to keep from hating his ex-wife in a completely uncontrollable fashion, or at least to keep from appearing to hate her as much as he does.
- The several dollars in library fines because I've been bedridden and just thought the books were being returned as my husband and children were taking multiple trips a week to that lovely edifice.
What else?
- Oh yes, the class I was supposed to teach this Wednesday that I forgot about until today.
- The substitute I haven't yet gotten for tomorrow morning (why can no one lead music these days?) but desperately need to.
- The fact that my fully paid leave runs out in 2 weeks but my back injury won't.
- The fact that MRIs cost so blinking much and are so blinking useless.
- Having to let a psychopath even further into our lives and into contact with my children (ack!).
- Trying (given all the above factors) to get a student loan for many thousands of dollars in hopes that my husband can actually handle a full courseload of science classes and get As ('cause if he doesn't, it's worse than not taking them at all).
- My laptop's DVD drive which needs fixing by the one IT guy at work, which will end up depriving me of said laptop probably until I return to the office in a month or so and consequently of the ability to work on my novel or do much of anything else during that time. This one bothers me more than it should, given the other items.
- Pirate boy's lifetime case of alligator-skin eczema, which has gotten so bad he even allows us to put lotion on him now but which really can't be dealt with outside the medical arena.
- Did I mention our evil medical insurance company?
The things I can just relax and enjoy:
- Much beautiful Duke Ellington on the stereo.
- Chocolate and very cold water.
- A 4-year old (excessively adorable) who can identify quadrilaterals without prompting.
- A 21-month-old (unutterably cute) who can not only say his ABCs but also count to 10.
- An intelligent, funny husband who loves me no matter how cranky I am and who's usually a pretty good substitute for Prozac.
- Dorothy Sayers novels.
- That warm, floaty feeling that only Percocet can give.
See, it ain't all bad.
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