Where Do We Go From Here?

Where do we go from here now that all other children are growin’ up?
And how do we spend our lives if there’s no one to lend us a hand?

I don’t wanna live here no more, I don’t wanna stay
Ain’t gonna spend the rest of my life, Quietly fading away

Alan Parsons Project -Where Do We Go From Here? Lyrics

behind bars

Lemme Out of Here!

The here that I don’t wanna live in no more is not a physical space like my house. It’s a metaphysical location – the place I’m stuck in at the moment. I’m tired of fading away, I don’t do anything quietly and furthermore – I’m not liking this! I miss ME. I miss the fun loving, adventurous, creative, rose colored glasses wearing, me.

And there are certainly plenty of people to lend me a hand. All I have to do is reach out, answer the damned phone, come out from under my blankey. Take that risk, belly flop back into the pool.

I’ve always been my best friend or my worst enemy, depending on the situation. Lately I’ve been the enemy. Beating myself up for something that is …not…my…fault. Mental illness is not something that happens because of personal flaws or failings, it just happens. Here I am hiding from people because I’m supposed to be perfect in every way.  Well I’m not Mary Poppins. And now I’ve retreated so far into my shell that I’m lost and having trouble finding the way out.

Kicking My Ass

$390 Dollars???

This reminds me of a scene from the movie Liar Liar, starring Jim Carrey. He’s in the bathroom, slamming around, banging his head on the sink, rubbing soap in his eyes. A guy walks in and asks “What the hell are you doing?” He replies, “I’m kicking my ass, do you mind?”

I was looking at my bank statement yesterday and it really hit me hard. There are no transactions on there in the month except for a trip to the 7-11 convenience store every few days for a pack of smokes. That’s it, zip, nada. I’m not going anywhere, doing anything, shopping, eating, going to movies. Gads – I’ve morphed into a Zombie. This is just downright ridiculous.

There are far better ways to save money than impersonating a hermit. Although I may have to sell blood or something. I’m in shock and furious at the moment because I went to drug store to pick up my prescription and it was THREE HUNDRED and NINETY DOLLARS!!!&%#* What the? EErrggg…gaaaaHHH. Are you effing kidding me?? What the hell is this stuff made out of?? Gold plated platinum dusted, uranium?  I almost pooped my pants right there in the pharmacy. The Astra Zeneca  Pharmaceutical Corporation is the new Anti-Christ, in my opinion.  Time to go back to the head doctor and discuss generics or a plan B.

Maybe I should drag my suitcase out of the closet and start packing it. I’ll worry about a destination along the way. I do want to go visit my family and I miss them terribly, but they all live in and around New Orleans. The combination of the Super Bowl there this year, followed by Mardi Gras this month was a little daunting, so I stayed home. Way too much of a circus for my taste. But, that’s all over now. Nothing stopping me – except me.

2 responses

  1. Hit the road! Or hit the movies, or the mall. Take the Hubman out for a belated Valentine’s dinner. You’re right about needing to get back in the pool, but make sure you like the water first.

    Also, all big Pharma companies are the Devil. See if there’s a generic version of your prescription.

    1. The catch with this particular med on I’m is that the “time released” version is patented until 2017 so there is no generic. The generic version that is the full whamy when taken has to be taken 2 or 3 times a day instead of once. Even the generic is hella expensivo. I’m thinking maybe going back a generation to what people took before they came up with this ungodly outrageously priced crap.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: