What weaning off Effexor feels like, in pictures

Day two of the wean off Effexor, and i'm living the dream, people! 


My brain feels like

My body aches 

My mouth is wicked dry

My eyes keep doing this

So I take a Xanax, and then I feel like 

Then the Xanax wears off so I feel like this 

So I take more and then I look like this 

Just 3 weeks and 5 days more of this! 

Don't hate me cuz you ain't me! 

A Nervous Wreck...They Make Pills For That!

It's almost nine thirty this Christmas evening, the babies are sleeping and Em is playing her new Wipeout Wii game. We had two lovely, happy days with our families. Christian was close in my heart, and I vowed I would give my kids a great Christmas, no matter what I felt like inside. 


 I'm sitting here unwinding from all the excitement from the last few days.  


Ok, i'm pretending to unwind.  Inside I am a ball of nerves. 


So my "keeping Lindsay slightly less than full blown loopy" pills are not working correctly.  They are giving me hella migraines and actually exasperating my depression.  That, for anyone with a pulse  can figure out, is the opposite of what happy pills are supposed to do. 


So, after my current doctor dismissed my issues and wasn't listening to what I was saying, I went to another doctor.  She was a stat care doctor I had seen on and off for quite a few years who went back to private practice.  And I had an awesome appointment with her on Friday.  I damn near skipped out of her office.  We have a plan. Plans=Good. 


I'm weaning off the Effexor.  And that is where my near panic is coming from.  If I miss one dose of this medicine I get brain zaps and feel like something a horse shits out.  Tonight I take nothing, and then I go from 150mg's to 37.5 in one day. I'm afraid about how sick i'm going to feel tomorrow, and for the next few days.  


I have these images of me sweaty and shaky, mumbling and whacking myself in the head with the palm of my hand. Or maybe curled in a ball, whimpering and drooling into the nice carpet.  Maybe i'll build the kids a fort and hide in it all day, rocking back and forth while busting out some old school rap and crying. 


Yeah, yeah i'm being dramatic.  Which is so unusual for lil' ol me. 


I'm going to feel like crap. I know this, I choose this. I chose it when I started the medicine in the first place and I was told how hard it was to wean off of.  


What's that about hindsight? 


I do have some magic little Xanax and some migraine meds to help get me through the yuckiest days.  


Xanax: I'll never worry about anything ever again. 
Xanax: Why won't my eyes open all the way? 
Xanax: Turns me into a mellow hippy. 
Xanax: Oh is that what sleeping all night without waking up 500 times feels like? 


Oooh, can you all imagine telling the crunchies I heart Xanax? 


"Ugh, Xanax.  Satan eats jaywalkers, digests them and SHITS out little peach pills.  Those pills are Xanax and they will kill you and all your next of kin. Pills won't cure depression. Depression was created by big pHARMa to sell pills and eat your soul. You have to get to the root of your depression.  You need sunlight.  Sunlight, and exercise.  And chew on this root while I chant over you.  I'm going to invoke your spirit animal, and give it an erotic massage. Then we'll bury your bad feelings in the backyard right next to your dead hamster. You need to just change the way you think, it's so easy!  Just choose to be happy.  Here, drink this tea, it's made from sunshine and the tears of organic, cruelty free, free range, unvaxxed, platypus's...."


Or something totally like that. 


Pray for me.  No, pray for my husband, and what he's going to come home to tomorrow!  

Dear Crazy Lindsay

As you all didn't have a clue know, I am an excellent question answerer.  I am the next Dear Abby. Only crazier, and I answer questions for free and have to beg people for them.  I made it known that Dear Crazy Lindsay was going live and my people inundated me with lots of good ones! 

Dear CL, Why don't men shave their armpit hair?  

-Love, your biggest fan eva, Emily K. 

Well, Emily, men don't shave their armpit hair for one reason, and one reason only.  Because women think it's sexy when their man raises his arms above his head and he has those little deodorant dingleberries hanging off.  Meow! 

Dear CL, Why do bridal designers go out of their way to make ugly bridesmaid dresses? 

-Love, your biggest fan eva, Emily K. 

They hate you. 

Dear CL, are you really a woman?  Do you get paid by Big pHARMa? 

-Love, Florence without any Machines. 

Well Florence, according to some harpies, no i'm not a woman.  I haven't pushed a child out of my vagina, and that makes me unqualified to wear the woman badge.  And my lawyers said I can't answer your second question. 

Dear CL, What are the winning lottery numbers? 

-Love, Stephanie the stalkaaaaa 

8675309.  That's either the winning numbers or some slut named Jenny's number.  Either way you win. 

Dear CL, Why does my son always take a gigantic crap right after I give him a bath? 

-Love, Stephanie the stalkaaaaa

Stephanie, I always have to padook after my baths, too.  It's the warm water and relaxation, ahhh. 

Dear CL, Do you liek mudkips? 

-Love, I swear I'm Not On Anything Olivia

Someone needs to see if Olivia is stroking out. Thanks. 

Dear CL, How much wood WOULD a woodchuck chuck? 

-Love, That bitch Emily isn't your biggest fan, I AM, Brenna

A woodchuck would chuck enough wood to satisfy is little furry ass.  But the real question is, can a woodchuck actually chuck wood?  For that I have no answer. 

Dear CL, Why is there an "L" in Noel? 

-Love Michelle my Belle

What the fuck, Michelle?  With no "L" you just have Noe.  And who the hell wants to sing "The First Noe?"  Noe I. 

Dear CL, Where did I leave my keys? 

-Love Jessica, lost without Life as 5

Check your husbands armpits. That hair can swallow up all kinds of stuff. 

Dear CL, Is it true that when you cut brownies the calories fall out? 

-Love, Michelle my Belle

No, anytime anyone anywhere cuts a brownie, the calories go straight to my ass.  Thanks, bitches. 

Dear CL, why do people buy "sham"poo when "real"poo is free?

-Love Mary, Mary not the least bit contrary 

Pitocin and vaccine damage has made us unaware of the natural moisturizing benefits of poop in our hair.  Blame the man. 

Dear CL, why do people insist on talking to you in long lines at the mall? 

-Love, Your Seeester Stacey? 

You have one of those damn faces, Stace.  It's all trusting and shit. Next time they do it, lick their cheek.  I guarantee they will leave you alone...and possibly the line.  

Dear CL, What does VeeShee mean? 

-Love, Your Favorite Aunt Beth

Aunt Beth, Veeshee means...

I'm so poor, I buy imitations of knockoffs...

It's that time of year, folks.  The mailman fills your mailbox full of glossy magazines, coupons overflow out of papers.  Toy commercials are amped up,  voice-overs screech about holiday sales. You wander the aisles of Christmas merchandise in a daze. Pretty gift sets of hot cocoa leads to fantasies of cold hands wrapped around warm mugs in front of a fireplace in a thick sweater...and my goodness your hair looks fabulous in the firelight. And what's this?  I've always wanted my crackers and cheese to come together with it's own cutting board and tiny knife.  Then reality hits, I don't have a fucking fireplace.  My hair is always a mess, and who would wear a damn sweater in front of a fire with a hot drink?  Not my chubby butt.  The cheese and crackers would still be a go, though.

My reality is I barely have money for gifts this year.  I went shopping with my mom and sister-in-law today (well, I watched them shop) and I got choked up talking about how few gifts I had for the kids.  They only have a few things each.  And I know it's not about the presents, but I like giving gifts.  And i'm shallow and materialistic, yo.

And then I got home and panicked.  I have six nieces and nephews.  I have in-laws...i'm hosting Christmas Eve at my house this year.  I'm going to have to feed my husbands family!  I have bills. What in the hell am I going to do?  I sat there for a few minutes, and thought about things in the house I could sell.  Crooked lamp, anyone?

I think Bob noticed the worry on my face . Ok, it was a wild look of panic.  He came over and sat next to me, asked me what was wrong.  I asked him how much he thought we could hock my engagement and wedding bands for.  I was not kidding, of course.

I have no monies.

I tried to devise a solution.  He didn't warm to my "pimping out his hard workin' ass" suggestion. I thought it was a good plan, but whatever.  We could do the 'ol slip and fall and sue, but the money totally wouldn't come in before Christmas. Credit card fraud?  Bob's too pretty for jail.

So, Lindsay is feeling a bit desperate and scared during this, the most wonderful time of the year. I literally have no idea how i'm going to do this.  I wonder if I can feed his family homemade bread for our meal...just bread and water.  We can have a Very Merry Jail Christmas Dinner.

Some people fantasize about vacations and new Coach bags.  I fantasize about having enough money in my bank account that I don't burst into tears every two weeks after I pay the bills.

We went to Pat Catan's today, one of my most favorite places to be.  They have oils, and canvasses, watercolors, paper, clay, beads, glitter, flowers, felt, pencils...shiver...and I was pushing my mom and doing the "Ooo I want that..Oooo I want THAT."  She told me I had champagne tastes on a beer budget. Because I want pencils and paper to draw with. If you're so poor at almost 30 that a PENCIL is a champagne budget, you are a loser.  A bigg'un.

I've been very weepy today, as I wandered the house looking for shit to try to sell.  I hate when you try to make all the right choices for your family and it just blows. Because you know what?  Having no money blows. There's a difference between "living simply" and "we can't get glasses and shoes and go to the dentist and buy food and presents."  And yes, I am having a pity party right now.  A large one.

I wonder if my nieces and nephews would like tree branches whittled to look like...smaller tree branches?

First World Problems

My favorite ladies have joined me in whining about our first world problems.  Why? Because sometimes we're vapid and shallow, that's why!  Enjoy:

P.S.  Make sure you share your First World Problem with me in the comments!!!

"My kid's toy laptop needs new batteries, and as such it sounds demonic. She screams ever time I try to take it from her to replace the batteries." 

"I'm sad because I only get a year of paid maternity leave. LOL. *Canadian problems*

The person I voted for didn't win in the election!

I have to buy clothes for the job I just got :(

I wasn't able to get a Starbucks today. :(" 

 "not being able to get to Starbucks is often at the top of my First World Problem list!"

"First World Problem: We only have one Wii remote. : ("

" I just ran out of cookies."

"I was gonna mention that my kids keep breaking the Wii remote!"

"we have to pick between visiting my family (in France) or his family (in Thailand) because we cannot afford 2 trips a year..."

"My margarita is warm :( Poor me."

"Oh, and I'm out of wine too."

"I wanna maid...*whine*"

"I am also super annoyed that hubby doesn't want to buy a kind size bed.... ( I really am) when our 5 yr old and our 2 yr old end up in bed with us , it flippin tight in a queen size bed..."

"Two weeks after the basement was finished it flooded!"

"I don't have enough money to make the crafts I want to on Pinterest."

"I'm all out of Vias and I have to drink instant."

"I can't afford a dishwasher. Wah wah"

" I don't get as many channels on the tv in my room as I do on the one downstairs in the living room."

"I just cracked it at my husband because the laptop battery is at 6% and earlier he moved the power cord from right next to my recliner where it always is to the office which is about 15 steps away and now I have to get up."

"Mine is swearing at Siri right now."

" Mine's a few weeks old, but it still plagues me. The water pressure was down at Target on black Friday and they had to shut down the bathrooms AND the Starbucks! Wah!"

"I have to find a sexy new dress to wear to my DH's work party and I feel fat bc I still havent loss the baby weight...12lbs to go."

"The Bf insists on keeping the temp in the house 65 degrees."

" Losing weight... The ultimate first world problem..." 

"I had to pay an extra 3.50 on top of a 10 dollar movie ticket for 3D"

"My law school exams are haaaaard. LOL"

"The man is taking way too long to get home with the Burger King for dinner"

"I just can't find a housekeeper I'm happy with.  ^Kind of a joke. Sorta."

" I cant decide between Chinese or Thai take out."

" My kids sleep 3 to a bedroom"

"Ugh I missed Survivor tonight!"

"My playstation 3 doesn't turn on with the universal harmony remote."

" I need a laptop!"

" When we had to cut down on our food expenses I had to stop buying the bottled water I like"

"OMG, the man took so long because the BK up the street had NO BURGERS!"

"The ultimate one for me-I need a bigger fridge because I have too much food and have run out of room."

"We also have 2 washers and dryers, so much freakin laundry!"

"Only two pizza places deliver to my house and one of them only takes cash!"

"Yeah I bitch and carry on when I'm trying to fit the groceries in there and then feel like an asshole when I realise how many people are starving in the world at that exact moment."

"Victoria Secret finally has come to Canada and I'm too plus sized for their stuff.

Most Canadian cities have H&M's except Ottawa (oh and I'm about 2 sizes to big for the store)

We had extra police on hand today to ensure public safety... At the grand opening of the largest IKEA in Canada."

"We're worried about getting a king sized mattress up the stairs..."

A Day in The Life as 5

6:15- Crack eye open and attempt to grab cell phone to turn off the alarm.  Realize arm is numb, and uselessly flop it around.  Grab phone with other hand/turn off alarm.  Grunt at Emily when she comes in to tell me she's awake.

7:10- Tell Emily her goodbyes, I love you's, have a nice days, without unwrapping from burrito blanket. 

7:30- Hear Noah climbing over gate, bring him into bed.  Turn on cartoons, re-burrito myself in the blanket. 

8:00- Hear the tell tale signs of life coming from the youngest Roth's bedroom. Roll out of bed, try to find where in the hell I put the glasses the night before.  Find them on the floor between bed and nightstand. 

8:02- Stumble into Princess E's room to change tiny ass and find something to put on her. Usually a combination of hand me down Noah clothes. 

8:08- Chase Noah through house, tackle, drag by foot into his bedroom. Stuff into clothes. Mop brow, wonder if it's too early for a drink. 

8:11- Let Sir Oliver out of cage, get licked for 3 minutes, let out to pee. 

8:15- Pee. With an audience. 

8:20- Feed spawn, explain for 1000Th time why we can't have cupcakes and chocolate milk for breakfast. 

8:30- Wash/ halfheartedly brush hair/teeth/ put on clean pajamas (where in the hell am I going?)  Brush tiny teeth, wash stickiness off tiny faces. 

9:00- Let the kids eat 3/4 of my cereal. 

9:00-12:00- Play with wee ones, keep Noah off the dog, Do a bit 'o Raptoring on the computer, tell Noah he can't have another snack 400 times.  Pull Noah off the dog, counter, sister, cousin, table, cellphone, out of the dog cage, out of the cupboards, etc. Rinse and repeat. Fantasize about a nice cold amaretto sour. 

12:00-1:00- Nom and cartoons. Take call from husband, tell him I am losing my marbles, like always. Beg him to come home. 

1:00-2:30- Nap time!  Put Ellie to bed, wrestle Noah into my bed. Get up and put him back in my bed.  Chase him through the house and put him back in my bed.  We both pass out from all the exercise. 

2:30- Wake up to small child breathing in my face.  

2:30-4:00- Snacks, playing, pulling Noah off everything, bang head on wall.  Pretend to clean shit. Eye booze on counter....

4:00- Hunker down on couch with computer, hand reins over to freshly showered husband.  Pretend to be deaf/very very very busy. 

5:00-6:00- Make noms.  Tonight was BLT's, seasoned fries, and cauliflower/broccoli/carrot mix.  Run away with kids so Bob and Em have to clean table off.  

6:00-8:30- Pull Noah off everything, look at bank account and quiver, pretend I didn't look at bank account, pin shit i'm never going to do (because of empty bank account) on Pinterest. Pretend to clean shit. Clean piss off floor: Dog and Son's. Wrestle small beings into pajamas, kisses and bed. 

8:30 to now- Write this blog, put Noah back in his bed 5 times, smell yucky puppy farts, watch my husband fall asleep playing Wii.  Too tired to make drink.

Go to bed, and do it all again tomorrow. Hopefully with less puppy farts! 

Before and After

When my Grandpa Dilas passed away, it was quick and unexpected.  It was the first time I felt that sharp knife of loss.  It was the moment death became a part of my life.  Before Lindsay didn't know what it felt like to bury someone she loved, but I was After Lindsay now.  I was changed.

My next loss was my Grandpa Mario. We watched him wither away from cancer, in six weeks.  When I went to therapy last year my counselor and I worked through those few short weeks.  It had been five years and I was still haunted by his pain.  Before Lindsay knew what it felt like to bury someone she loved, but After Lindsay knew what it felt like to bury someone she loved after she watched him suffer.  I was doubly changed.

Three weeks before I gave birth to Elise, Grandma Virginia left us. I also worked through her death with my counselor. I had watched my Grandma mourn my Grandfather since the cancer claimed him. I was the last person to see her alive, and I had a gulf of guilt to swim through. I never knew grief, like I felt when I was pregnant. Before Lindsay knew loss and suffering, After Lindsay knew loss, suffering, and bone deep grief.

Three months ago I watched my sister bury her husband.  Before Lindsay knew loss and grief but it never felt unnatural.  The day we laid that boy in the ground was the day this After Lindsay was born.  Your grandparents passing is a normal, although painful reality of life.  Christian dying  hasn't felt natural. There's no pamphlet they hand out: "How to Deal With This Crazy Fuck-Uppery Volume 2: How to NOT Become an Alcoholic."  There's no one to tell you if you should stop asking your sister if she's ok or not.  Who explains to you why you want to grab strangers and shake them while you tell them about how alive he was? Which person can explain why the posed pictures of him don't make me cry, but the one where he has a sombrero and sunglasses on made me cry for an hour?  Why did I lose a friend, but find my best friend in the midst of this?  Who the hell has the answers?

Why was driving away from my sister at the grave today so incredibly hard?  So hard Bob and I wept as we drove away. To see her standing there alone...but not really.  Because he is there, arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

I'm almost thirty, and I've lost four beautiful people. I am: After three losses and a fourth devastation Lindsay. I am: Learning to Live In This Skin Lindsay.

Four holes in my heart that will never be filled.  Four people I loved, four people that shaped my world.  Four people that no matter where I go, what I do, I will think of them and smile. My grandparents left me thousands of memories. My sister had six years of joy and happiness. My children have their Godfather watching them from heaven.

 Love never dies. 

Holiday Giveaway Winner!!

We have a winner!  It's only a few days late because Mr. Oliver ate his new mommy's computer cord. Awesome. (not really)

:::::::::::The winner is:::::::::::

Yay, Congrats Becoming Supermommy!  

Email me @ glitrbaby7@aol.com and I'll get the giftcard sent out to you!