Oh, the visions I had for this inaugural post of 2010. First, I was going to mention how it was four years ago tonight that I launched an early incarnation of this blog, followed by a bit of reflection on how far this whole experiment has come since then.
Also swirling through my brain were thoughts about banging out some kind of year-in-review piece, perhaps with links to a few of my more memorable posts of 2009, as well as some of my characteristically brilliant, insightful, witty and profound commentary on the first decade of the new millennium.
But here’s what I’ve got for you instead, Internet: I am starting 2010 on the verge of having that mental breakdown I keep threatening you with. I am fucking fried. The holidays, wonderful though they were (and they were) burnt me out, the kids are on my nerves, and Wonder Woman and I are about one breath away from buying a couple of foam baseball bats with which to bludgeon each other.
So, since a spectacular New Year’s Day blog entry isn’t in the cards, I will instead set the tone for 2010 by being brutally honest with you: I am a brooding, moody mess right now, and the reasons for this are not only post-holiday burn-out, sleep deprivation and the ongoing joys of parenthood, but also, I am fairly certain, the fact that I currently am weaning myself off of Wellbutrin, an antidepressant used for treating, among other things, Attention Deficit Disorder, with which I was diagnosed about eight years ago after spending roughly three decades accumulating a personal history that reads like a “You Know You Have Full-Blown Bona Fide Attention Deficit Disorder When…” handbook.
And though the primary purpose of the prescription was to treat my ADD, it certainly hasn’t hurt that the medication in question is an antidepressant, because let’s just say that depression and I have made out with each other on several occasions. With tongue, even. I’m pretty sure she’s feeling me up right now, as a matter of fact.
There’s a reason why I’m weaning myself off the medication at this particular time, however, and it is a reason that involves Zan and I and a holistic treatment we recently underwent that requires a far more in-depth explanation than I’m prepared to give in this particular post, but I promise to give you that explanation in my very next entry. (And all this time, you thought I was just kidding about being a fucking basket case, eh? Well, the joke’s on you! Ha ha!)
In keeping with my pledge to be brutally honest with you in 2010, I also will reveal that compounding my current state of fucked-up-ness is my impending 40th birthday, the imminent arrival of which has initiated the onset of what, by all early indications, promises to be a positively spectacular midlife crisis.
The good news is that I am totally Type A, so instead of curling up on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a DVR full of bad reality television, my plans for grabbing 2010 by the balls include: finding a new therapist; getting back in the gym; running; resuming my meditation practice; and blogging like my life depended on it.
Alright, so maybe I didn’t give you my originally envisioned feel-good “Happy New Year!” blog entry, but you have to admit that I sure as hell gave you some interesting shit to look forward to.
Happy New Year, my faithful Scratchers. Do stay tuned, won’t you? It’d be a shame to have all this drama go down and no one to share it with.
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