A Reconstruction

Ok, so I lied to you. And for that, I’m sorry. More importantly, I lied to myself, and for that I am also sorry.

I told you that I’ve been off of my depression meds for a long time and I’m happy because I don’t need them and I can live happily without them. Well, I can’t.

You see, I have anger towards many things. You can read all about a lot of them right here on this blog. I hate that I have that anger. See? My anger is even directed towards that anger. It knows no bounds.

I have anger for everything, but it was one thing in particular that started me on my path back to the medication. That one thing is grammar. I’m not perfect with words and spelling, but I do my best. But if “grammar nazi” is a real thing, I’m most certainly one. I take the time to proofread things before I post them. Again, not perfect, but at least I give it an effort. And sometimes it pisses me off to no end that a lot of people don’t even give it that. They don’t even bother with a two second proofread to make sure they said “of” instead of “if.” Because of that, I quite often call people out on their shitty grammar. My wife’s family is no exception, especially her cousin. Because I like to give her shit, and she knows it. However…

Yesterday my wife’s cousin posted on Facebook how she missed the “drive end” and wanted to go back. I legitimately was not giving her shit. I had no idea what she meant and responded with “What?” Then I realized what she said, so instead of editing my comment like a sane person would, I replied again with, “Do you mean drive in?” And once again, instead of editing my comment I replied again with, “I miss it too and would love to go back.” I said something along those lines, probably not the exact phrase, but the point is, I meant it. I wasn’t trying to make fun of her grammar. But she thought I was and deleted the post and I haven’t heard from her since.

For that, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything by it other than I’d love to go to the drive in too.

However, my wife and I got into it this morning. She told me nobody knows when I’m being sarcastic or serious. I still maintain that anybody who knows me should know when. I have friends who know. My wife, doesn’t know. My mom doesn’t either, but to be fair, her funny bone is broken almost all the way through. Sarcasm is worse than Cantonese to her.

She said that I make fun of them too much for spelling things wrong, and because of that I’m an asshole. I thought long and hard on that and realized a few things. One, I’m never going to be happy if I continue with this anger towards everything, especially those things I can’t control. Me correcting people isn’t going to fix shitty grammar worldwide. Me hating the government isn’t going to stop them from being complete douchenozzles. Me hating shitty driving isn’t going to stop shitty drivers from being complete douchenozzles. I need to let this shit go so I can be happy. For the first time in my life.

I also need to stop being sarcastic. So that everybody else can be happy with me. I fully believe in the motto “I’d rather be hated for being me than be loved for not being me.” Except I fell in love with, and married my wife. I can’t expect her to deal with an asshole and not do something for her, so I’m going to try to not be sarcastic anymore. At least around people.

I don’t like that decision, because I’m not going to be me, and what am I going to get out of the deal? I’ve conformed, and that’s not me. However, I realized, I’m not happy now. So what difference does it make? Not be happy and full of anger and stress? Or not be happy and be happy?

So I decided to give this no sarcasm thing a try, but I realized it’s not just going to be hard, but it might kill me. Because I’m going to have that shit bottled up inside me, festering and growing, until one day I’m going to explode. And that, my friends, is going to be one hell of a mess.

With that said, I decided that it would be a good decision for me to go back on my medication. I literally made that decision this morning. As luck would have it, I had an appointment with my therapist today, and I discussed a few things with her, including wanting to go back on the pills. We’re currently working on that, and maybe by the end of the month I’ll be back on them.

Here’s where I help you out again with some advice. If you have no money, there are places to go. The place I go is a county run organization for those who are broke. I had to go on a waiting list initially, but once I got in, I was in for good, unless I move out of county or die or decide to not go anymore. I think most major counties/cities have these types of places. Locate the one near you, if you need it, and get on their list. They’ll call you when something is available and you can start getting the help you need.

The place I go was just mental health, but today I learned they are now doing physical health as well, so I can use them as my primary care doctor, which I will be doing. They also have a lady there who helps people get signed up for Medicaid, and I’ll also be seeing her soon.

All of this is free for me, and it could be free for you too. Or at least inexpensive, because they are sliding scale. It just so happens that I make well below the line to get seen for free. And should I ever need a prescription that is expensive, they’ll do what they can to get it to me for free.

You can have that help too. Nobody got it for me but me. I knew I needed it and I found it. That first call wasn’t easy, but now I don’t know where I’d be if I had never called. And I love going there, and I love my therapist. She’s awesome.

Anyway, that’s that. I’m about to be back on my meds, which is a good thing, and I’m not going to be a sarcastic asshole to people anymore. Just here. Because otherwise this place will turn into a rotting pile of this kind of post, and we can’t have that.

Also, I’m sorry I posted about sad depressing things three days in a row. That shit won’t happen again. I hope. Next up, I promise to bring you some good old fashioned bitching about stupid shit. Stay tuned!

8 responses to “A Reconstruction

  1. I hope it all works out.

  2. I have the same issues with grammar and syntax and spelling. I do. It drives me nuts. Some of my friends primarily speak a language other than English, and some are actually dyslexic, and many, like myself, use dialect. But, too many of them are just…oh God, it burns.
    It’s distracting. It’s like a cookie lingering in cyberspace, just begging for me to grab it and snarf it down. It’s much easier to grab the cookie and take a bite, when really I should focus on what they’re writing.

    As for your anger, depression and anger at the depression, I wish you well, always.
    I can tell you, honestly, your sarcasm is hard to pick up on at times, also, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re teasing or being genuinely mean-spirited, but I assume the best, because I think if you were angry with me, or spiteful, you’d actually tell me. At least, I’d like to think so.

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