Raising Afterbirth

Despite the dreaded occasion... today was a fairly decent day. I met with my doctor and discussed further medication options... it was decided it would be best to give the current dosage another month before raising it to the maximum dose. Afterwards, I went to Target to get some food for the cat and to browse the video games and movies... I need more of either as much as I need a hole in the head! That's the funny thing about addiction... we become addicted to the concept of addiction, not just the things we must have. Movies replace drugs and video games replace lust. After I was finished feeding the child inside, I went to another therapy session for the week. My therapist's hours of business end at 5pm, and today's appointment was scheduled at 5pm... he cared enough to stay after hours to see me for an hour. I can't imagine many therapists would do that for their patients... he is one in a million and one of the most trusted people in my fragile, uncertain world. We talked about several things that have been weighing heavy on my heart... even though I had no idea their impact was so severe. Usual topics that push people's uneasy emotions further into the crashing waves... Mother and Father. We laughed as I screamed out in my Mother's voice, "You're a special piece of fucking shit! And God has mighty plans for your sorry, pathetic, ugly, worthless ass!"... ah, such a loving and sheltered home. I told him that I really believed, "If someone would just take a chance on me, I know my life story would make a best-seller.". I didn't say it as a form of egotism or self-puffery, it was purely based off of the extreme conditions of my life, both my upbringing and my young adult life. He agreed with me and reminded me that no matter how many times he hears the sordid details of my childhood... he is shocked and horrified all over again. Both off my doctors claim that it is nothing short of a miracle and a testament of my courage, that I'm as functional and well adjusted as I am... I can't agree, those types of flattery are removed of all validity in my mind. I was born, I lived, and I press on... the rest is what it is, nothing more. Happy Birthday, you fucking piece of shit...