My parents should have named me Frank.

Because I am. It’s just the way I am.

So, I will be frank with you. (Spoken like I have never been frank before in my blog.)

I have not blogged about anything recently, as I have been intentionally avoiding the “elephant in the corner” as we affectionately refer to the term at work. It’s that thing that that is looming there, that everyone wants to know about but nobody wants to ask about. This elephant, in this food lady’s life, is her fragile mental health. How is my mental health these days? Am I hanging out in the rubber room? Curled up in the fetal position on my living room floor?

Well, my motto has always been “Better Living Through Chemistry” and this situation is no exception. Lexapro is my miracle drug of choice, and with the exception of a few speed bumps along the way, it has been a miracle.

I have a friend at work who battles his own demons, and he has said to me, “You need a heaping spoonful of ‘I don’t give a shit.’” And he’s right. However, I seem to have a cup full at the moment. Remember my posts about feeling guilt for not doing laundry? Or dishes? Well, there is guilt no more! But now I struggle with the need for some sort of motivation. I struggle with it at home and at work. I am very motivated with the animals, however. I am happy that I continue to honor my commitment to them as an “animal husband.” But the laundry? It’s not done.

B says that’s fine. He likes it much better this way. Let me tell you a funny story:

I had Christmas Day dinner planned out. My inner Martha Stewart was somewhat shut down by the drugs, and I had decided that I’d do a spiral glazed ham in the crock pot, put some veggies and potatoes in the oven, and then we’d just eat off of that all day. It would be a NICE dinner, but not a formal dinner. And there would be minimal work for me.

But the trouble started on Christmas Eve, when my Lexapro self decided that I couldn’t be bothered with the prep work. The inner Martha could not win that battle. I went to bed without the pumpkin pie or pineapple upside down cake being made. Martha was placated by Lex’s assurance that I would get up early and get it all done before 9 am. I mean, the kids will not let us sleep very late on CHRISTMAS, right?? Wrong.

Martha, Lex, B, the kids and I all woke up at 9 am. I am surprised that Martha slept that late. She is usually up at 5:30, banging around in the kitchen, trying to guilt everyone else into getting up and helping. But Lex drugged her into sleep. And we all slept well! We opened our prezzies, and I went to the barn, and it was all good. I came back, and snuggled under the quilt on the couch, and the sun was streaming in, and the cats surrounded me and…

I WOKE UP AT 2:30!!! And nobody had made anything; there was nothing in the house to eat (except the uncooked Christmas dinner and a few leftovers that were not enough to feed a ravenous household!). B suggested the grocery store, but Martha reminded him in her infinite wisdom that the grocery store was closed on Christmas day. Lex told him to go to the gas station and see what he could rustle up.

AND MARTHA WAS QUIET!!! She was drugged in to submission, and Lex seemed pleased that her family was so well fed WITH SLIDERS ON CHRISTMAS DAY !! What did BABY JESUS think when he looked down and realized that LEX LOVED HIM SO MUCH SHE CELEBRATED HIS BIRTH BY SERVING HER FAMILY WHITE CASTLE SLIDERS???!!! FROZEN ONES THAT WERE REHEATED IN THE MICROWAVE!!

Martha was secretly pleased when the kids remarked, “Mom, these are the nastiest burgers I have ever tasted! Can I please have that extra sub sandwich that dad got?”

Strengthened by this, Martha rallied the troops and enlisted help from everyone, to whip up the meal that had been planned! The boy made the pumpkin pie while Martha made the crust and barked orders at the crew. Thankfully Lex tempered the Martha dictator, and the atmosphere was one of camaraderie. Baby Jesus would be proud of THIS. We had the meal done by 7:30 pm, and ate our fill that day, and had ham for dinner for a week after that.

Later, when Martha begged forgiveness from B for being under the influence of Lex, B said he loved her multiple personalities with Lex in the mix. Martha asked him if he wanted to boot Lex out of her life, and while he said, ‘It’s up to you, Dear” she really heard the truth in his voice: ‘If you ever go off of this medication, I will run screaming for the hills never to be heard from again. Never, EVER miss a pill.” And I think he really means that, White Castle for Christmas dinner and all.

So, bear with me and my cup full of I don’t give a shit. It’s not that I don’t, I really care about things. But other things just get in the way…

Truthfully, and kidding aside, part of the titration is to get through the part where you are feeling somewhat numb. My first reaction to the medication was that I did not like how it took away all of the good feelings with the bad. My emotions were spiking up and down, and I liked the ups. I never even considered that the medicine would shave the peaks off of the good and the valleys off the bad moods. Fortunately, the peaks have come back, and the valleys have stayed away, except when appropriate. This has been a good thing for me. But I continue to have motivation problems. It’s the old, “spirit is willing but the flesh is weak” line. Last night I really intended to get some extra work done that I had brought home. Yeah, and B woke me up at midnight to go to bed. My laptop was still open. I had fallen asleep waiting for a remote document to load. I had every intention to stay awake, but…

Okay, you get the picture. The gist is this: I know you are all used to Martha with the stick up her butt. But please, be patient with Lex, and get to know her. She’s totally laid back and cool (when she’s not sleeping). And she’s REALLY, really good for Martha.