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Sunday, November 22, 2009

On Anxiety Meds, Inhibition and Dirty Texting

Almost immediately after the inception of Implosion 2009, I went on Lexapro. The first week, I felt kind of floaty aroundy, and I yawned a lot. At the end of the second week, after spending the evening at the County Fair with the kids and DH who had been absentee *MLC for a while at that point. I watched him leave with my babies, and was feeling pretty despondent when I hopped into the mini-storage solo. But an amazing thing occurred, instead of spiraling into an anxiety attack, I felt a wave of calm.

I called *DF Garden Mama, an experienced medicationer, and she said it was good. I was feeling normal. That’s what the drug is supposed to do. I thought “HA, nothing about this sitch is normal. It is abnormal to respond as though this is an acceptable normal thing, this implosion.” But I had to admit it felt good not to feel like the world was ending (see the movie 2012, that’s what Summer Implosion 2009 felt like to me).

With fall came reconciliation, for which I am eternally grateful. Thank God DH came back when he did… because interestingly enough, the meds are having additional effects on me. I envision anxiety and inhibition buddied up in my brain, like frat brothers slobbed out on an old sofa, buzzed and not caring about a thing, because both of them seem to be on vacay in my Becca Brain.

Essentially, I feel like I could dance on table tops Coyote Ugly style.

I'm not so inhibited and "OMG I would NEVER" as I used to be. Texting, pic and video messaging have become a favorite foreplay hobby of mine. Though my back is still healing from my spinal surgery this summer, I’m pretty able to channel my inner contortionist in my efforts to snap erotic photos with my cell camera. I even procured a wig and an alter ego. We will call her Nadia. Naughty, naughty, Nadia.

his infusion of aggressive, suggestive foreplay has been like an H1N1 vaccine against marital tedium. There is nothing like getting a hot little text before you head into a teacher conference, or while you are selecting yogurt at Aldi’s. It’s like a dirty little secret. I may look like a
member of the PTA, but I’m really a one man nymphomaniac contemplating a quick duck into the ladies room to snap a naughty response pic.

No, you can’t judge a woman by her looks, or a marriage by the actions of one partner. There are hidden aspects and different perspectives on almost everything in life. I just hope I find a good balance before I find myself on YouPorn.com or something.

Best wishes,

*MLC: Midlife Crisis
*DF: Dear Friend


  1. Good God.. all the things I miss!

  2. Oh Mon Dieu! I think I need to get your phone number! hahaha