Inspiration

I'm looking for inspiration in all the wrong places. I feel that once I started getting people e-mailing me and a few spattering of comments I totally lost my groove. Momma needs her groove back. My husband is watching Team America and, once again, I just don't get it. They are fucking puppets... am i wrong? Is it totally lame? I know lots of people love this movie and South Park and all that, it just seems like a horrifying waste of time. I feel like I may wake up in hell one day for the amount of TV I watch already, but adding total crap to it seems like double dutch.

We have been playing with Garage Band and we recorded my kids all singing Mary Had A Little Lamb. It is, I'm fairly sure, the best thing I have ever heard. I wish I could figure out how to post it as well as photos right here on my blog using Blogger and a Mac. Any help will be reciprocated with a life times worth of computer geek good deed karma.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the cycles of happiness and sadness - mania and depression. Way back before I had kids I had a nervous breakdown followed by a major depression and rapid-cycling mania. It was REAL fun. At the time I went through so much pain, sorrow and humiliation I willed myself to move on with my life. I came to a moment in time that completely changed me. I remember one day after many horrible weeks and lots of gory details I came upon Shane, alone, in our apartment and I knew from the look in his eyes that if I didn't get my shit together I was going to lose him forever. The real life-altering thought that came from that moment was the realization that he was my true love, that I could never lose him because the pain of that would be worse than anything. It sounds so movie'ish icky kaka poo-poo. But, it really changed me - that moment. It was a defining moment. I've had others since then - the births of each of my four children, my dads cancer, my brothers alcoholism, the day my mom dropped my sisters 6 week old baby. (I'm serious about that) It all sounds like one giant butt-fuck Julia Roberts movie.

I wonder how many clich�s I can come up with in this post, it all started with the groove thing and went downhill from there.

So, anyways, those cycles. Several times over this past year I have thought that it would be a good idea if I went back on medication. I am worried for many reasons; first is actually going to my family doc and asking for medication. It feels like I'm opening myself up to so much scrutiny and I can't handle that stress. Secondly, I'm still nursing and I have kept my body clean - save the 500 bottles of wine - and I'm not sure I want to expose my big baby to that. (That is so lame and I am trying to wean him.) Third, when I was on medication before I hated it. I hated the way it made me feel, except for the Ativan, which I loved a little too much. Oooh-ooh clich� time - mothers little helper. Anyway, in all honesty, I had moments of suicidal thoughts and I conjured up way too many images in my head of all the pills I had and how easy it...

I have to say that the Team America sex scene just came on and THAT was fucking hilarious.

Anyway, I worry about conjuring up all those thoughts I had so long ago and heck, now I have my 500 bottles of wine. Self-medication seems to work for everybody else.