On Anger, Antidepressants, Chocolate Milk and Unblunted Words

OK, so for the past few days I have been somewhat grumpy. I acknowledge this. But apparently I've been more grumpy than usual, 'cause Cheryl jokingly suggested that I go back on antidepressants. You know, in that sort of "ha, ha ... if this really pisses you off we'll say it's just a joke" kind of way. So I've been thinking about it.

I am not necessarily against the idea. Anti-d's made me gain weight, which wasn't awesome, but I'm certainly capable of doing that with or without them. And they did have a somewhat quieting effect when my thoughts become a raging swirl. But I'd like to think, and maybe this is wrong, that my need for antidepressants grew out of my work life. Meaning, I had a job that really bummed me out (quite the opposite of now).


And if the issue isn't a transient situation involving work, then the issue is me. And that's something I need to think about.


Which brings me to the chocolate milk. The fam and I were watching TV the other day and someone knocked some chocolate milk into my chair. It was a goodly amount of chocolate milk, and it was cold. So Mama Chocolate Milk Butt jumped up, yelling a little, in shock. More like yelping, not so much with the words at first. And I think it hit Cheryl as a classic (not in a good way) overreaction to relatively minor circumstances. Which is easy to say when your ass is dry.


So what's going on? Is my brain carburetor running to rich on rage? Is there something bugging me that I haven't fully accessed yet? I've got things going on that can lead to upset: I'm turning 40 (which, even if you do it at Disneyland, still kinda sucks). Work is TV-centric (good) and still a lot of fun, but getting more stressful as the business grows. I haven't been exercising, though I did take a walk yesterday. And it's hard to be a superhero when you're not exercising.