Random Thoughts

Man, did I have a wake up on the wrong side of the bed day.

UGH! Talk about Christmas overload! Since Hallow-heen, I have been bombarded with Christmas stuff everywhere! Why do I not remember it ever being this bad? A few days after Hallow-heen, I heard the Gus second most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania commercial where he sings about dashing through the snow careful on the ice and then a few minutes later, the Pennsylvania lottery one comes blasting on (you know, and best wishes from the lottery). It's crazy. Santa is already at the mall. Christmas music is playing in the mall and in Kohl's. I want to scream.

I adore Christmas. And yet, every year it rolls around, I get so overwhelmingly depressed, I can't enjoy it. The first time I saw Christmas decorations popping up, I felt like sitting on the floor in the middle of the store (I think it was Target) and sobbing.

Not that anyone particularly gives a crap, and I am definitely venturing into TMI territory, but I went to the gynocologist for the first time in about 4 years yesterday. I had to wait over 2 freaking hours. Surprisingly, it took about an hour and 45 minutes before I started getting hostile. I hate going to the gynocologist. It hurts so goddamn bad every time I go. The doctor even used the smallest speculum in the office and I still almost hit the roof. I remember the very first time I ever went to the gynocologist, my mom was all like oh it's not that bad it doesn't hurt that much. As soon as the doctor placed the speculum in me, I almost screamed loud enough to be heard across the Atlantic Ocean. The whoe time during my exam yesterday, all I kept thinking was, how in the HELL am I ever supposed to have sex if this hurts me so fucking bad?

When it comes to medical malpractice, I am always one of the first in line to defend doctors. It is called practicing medicine and people just place way too much trust in doctors curing every single thing that ails them. They are not miracle workers. But anymore, when looking at medical paperwork day in and day out, I am really starting to see why doctors fuck up! It astonishes me how many mistakes I see a day. Wrong dates, no names on papers, no dates on prescriptions, ineligible handwriting (I know doctors are well known for having terrible handwriting, but I cannot believe just how bad some doctors write). Is it really that fucking difficult to write a date- A COMPLETE FULLY LEGIBLE DATE WITH MONTH, DAY, and CORRECT YEAR- on a paper?

People make my head hurt. They really do. I swear, I always have this feeling that if I were to ever end up commiting suicide, I would not be depressed when I do it.

It astonishes me how some people in this world are just ridden with bad luck. I have heard bits and parts on that Zahra Baker story and man, that girl was just dealt one shitty hand in life, only to have it end shitty as well. People are always all up with their karma crap and their "everything happens for a reason", but what things did this young girl do to deserve all this? What is the reason for her to have had to deal with all of this shit and then to be murdered? My answer to that? She was killed because she is better off being dead then to live in this shitty ass world with those psycho ass people and waiting on society to do something to help her out.

I just finished reading Alex Cross's Trial and the whole story made me sick. The descriptions of lynching made me want to vomit. What in the hell ever possessed someone in the past to ever decide that white people were superior?

I read an article a while back about a woman who had stayed in a shit hole- sorry, psychiatric facility for the uber-politically correct- and was ashamed to admit it to people for the longest time. I try to forget ever having to stay in one, but I am not ashamed to admit it. Obviously, it is not something I go bragging about or telling just anyone, but generally when I feel comfortable enough around someone, I will admit to it. My mom is always getting on me that I shouldn't go around telling people about it, but why shouldn't I? Why should I be ashamed? I was sick. I was sick due to medicine that was supposed to be making me better. Medicine that everyone who doesn't know anything likes to tout as wonderful.

I cannot even begin to explain the rage I feel whenever someone asks me why don't I take antidepressants to feel better. Uh, because there is a little thing called "antidepressants can actually make everything worse"! And just like the whole constipation help thing, people like to offer assinine advice that I have already tried:

- You need to try other psychiatric medications. I have- about 9 different ones, including 3 antipsychotics and 1 mood stabilizer
- You have to give it time. I have- a year is the average amount of time I have stayed on a psychiatric drug, except in the case of Wellbutrin and 2 of the antipsychotics

Going back to being sick, my sister was still living at home when I was sick. She was always trying to get me to go out or exercise or whatever with her and I just was not with it enough to do so. And to this day, she still likes to throw it back in my face. I have had enough of it being thrown back in my face and I am telling you right now- the next time she brings it up again will be the last.

While I have been doing it for many years, something I am starting to notice is how I have no backbone when a strange person attacks me, yet if my family slights me, I fly off the handle and have almost no problem letting loose everything I want to say.

We just recently had to get these new cable boxes and every time I change the channel, it freezes for a moment. It was irritating as hell until I realized almost every time I put a channel on, the freezing makes someone have a derp face for a few seconds. I laughed until I almost passed out.