Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Friday, December 10, 2010

Blog Shog: Black Dog Fading to Grey

A very quick update for those of you traipsing along in the wake of my Black Dog posts...

The experiment with the meds seems to be working. Cutting back the Effexor dosage has definitely made a difference, and I'm feeling more like myself.

I don't know if I'm fully out of the woods, but I would be over the fucking moon if this was just a case of nine months of too much medication. Sadly, not unheard of, especially with psychopharmaceuticals.

Be safe out there and have an awesome weekend. To quote Jake Blues, "EVERYBODY GET RIPPED!"
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