Just take away my will to live, why don’t you? OR How therapy went last Friday

Homeslice and I went to our first visit to Monica the Ninjerapist last Friday, and I felt a little disheartened afterwards because I was expecting her to tell me I was doing everything right, and that all I need is a little talk therapy and then I’d be right as rain just as soon as I finished my cookie and found Morpheus.

But nay, nay, my good people. Not so much. Turns out, I have a little of the PPD and a little of the SADS and if you them dump together and shake em’ around, it makes a lovely bag of mixed NUTS.

Freakin’ Sweet! High five!

I should be happy that she didn’t think I was sick enough to suggest a lobotomy or an antidepressant or something because I’m decidedly anti-medication and anti-lobotomy. The three things she suggested I work on, however, pissed me off a little bit.

Check it:

1) I’m supposed to quit drinking any and all wine/akahol full stop. Did you hear that? Let me say it again. She said to QUIT DRINKING! Apparently one 750ml bottle PER WEEK is too much. And believe me, I tried to negotiate with her, I really did:

But she’s a ninja. They don’t negotiate.

f) Stop! eating! chocolates! Have I told you guys that I absolutely loathe working at night?  Well, I do.  I hate it.  I crash around 1:00pm, I stumble and slur my words, and then I go to work for 7 hours.  It’s awesome.  What’s more awesome is that I haven’t been fired for showing up to work drunk because when I land there after taking care of the little children all day, I’m a hot. mess.  Here’s a picture of me at my desk which was taken by Mister this very Tuesday past:


As you can see, I’m looking all kinds of motherfuckin’ enthusiastic right there.  And my boss keeps a big, big super fat ass jar of chocolates on her desk and every time I feel like cutting myself, I eat one. Needless to say, I wind up eating a crapload of fucking candy. Monica says that instead, I’m supposed to do yoga and drink herbal tea.

What kind of fucking bitchery is this? I’d rather cut myself!
Yoga at my desk? Shenanigans!
Herbal Tea? Pssshaw!
What an assbag.

(I just made that up. It’s a delightful combination of Jackass and Douchebag. Assbag. You can use it.)

10) She says I have to break off my lesbian affair with Jillian Michaels!!! This is unimaginable to me that a ninjerapist would suggest I actually not exercise, but that’s because it’s not what she’s saying at all. She just wants me to do more yoga instead. Because it’s therapeutic. Jillian is too punishing and not “loving enough to (my) kid self.” Don’t look at me funny. That’s what she said. And then I punched her in the face and made her do Plank Jacks and Rock Star Jumps until the tears flowed from her eyes and she begged me to let her stop. I’m pretty sure that’s what Jillian would have done had she been there.

No. I didn’t really do that, but I wanted to is what I’m saying.

I don’t think I want to pay her to be my friend anymore.

But I did her suggestions anyway just in case she knows what the fuck she’s talking about, except this past weekend I drank more just on priciple, and I did manage to cut out the chocolates at work and so now it’s just totally joyless instead of mostly joyless because herbal tea is not a replacement for fucking chocolate. Not on this planet, or on Planet Mental Health, or on any other planet in the world.  Even ET thought Reeces Pieces were the shit. 

Amiright? I rest my case. 

And then I found out that she doesn’t take my health insurance and so instead of taking United,  I’m going to ask if she takes Cunnilingus instead because that’s the only way I can pay her.  I think I mentioned to you last week that she’s working the whole “lesbian therapist” vibe and so I might take this chance to answer that question once and for all.

Although, my gay-dar doesn’t go off when I’m around her, but that means nothing because you know, Ninjerapists are crafty.

My friend Rachel says her gay-dar sounds like the disco call–WOOT! WOOT! when it goes off, but I think that only applies to men.  What does a lesbian gay-dar sound like because maybe my gay-dar is going off and I just don’t know.

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  1. 1st thought: if you’re diesel, it sounds like a chainsaw ripping into action…Lipstick you say? Insert Indigo Girls here.

    Closer I am to fine!

  2. Whoa…Monica doesn’t sound very cool right now. No drinking, chocolate or exercise? That’s crazy! I could live without the exercise, but drinking and chocolate? Ack! You should totally punch her in the face. Mister is right about the glasses, very hot 🙂 My husband claims I’m a lesbian (I tell him it takes more than 2 girls to be official) but I never really hear anything going off in my head when I see a hottie. It’s more of a feeling I get. Kinda like “Wow, she’s hot- must touch the boobies!”

  3. My ads are about panic disorder, and panic attacks in women. Google must have seen my FB status that I have court this afternoon.
    Your ninjatherapist should be fired. Doesn’t she know chocolate fixes everything? A close relationship with chocolate forces a lesbian affair with Jillian though. So I guess it’s both or neither.
    Next time you get the SADS, munch on Homeslice’s cheeks for those of us who can’t have a Homeslice.

  4. I’m also with mister, hot lesbian librarian look there. Which is the look you should go for when approaching assbag about said payment. If she doesn’t go for that can I suggest asking her over for a GLASS OF WINE AND SOME CHOCOLATES? Maybe she could do some yoga with you while she’s there. I love talking, but no drinking and chocolate? She’s nuts.

  5. I think the ads take random words from the post and go with it. Also I think lesbian gaydar sounds like kd lang or ani difranco. I probably depends on the age range of the person you are looking at.

    I unknowingly drank a really large bottle of wine for you last night. Live vicariously!

  6. Well, you can always lie about the drinking. I did that for five years. And since you’re hiding it, you get to drink more. I say if you lie, lie BIG!

    And cheese makes up for chocolate in my book.

    And if I wasn’t so terrified of tanning beds, I would suggest that you give it a try. Carolyn always thinks if I could just get some sunlight in my eyeballs and feel warm for just 10 minutes, I might snap out of it. But no. Tanning beds cause panic attacks. Because the bottom is going to break and I’m going to fall into the seething hot coils and burn into dust.

    Wow. That commentary was really not very helpful. Sorry.
    .-= k8’s last blog post… I’m Going Out For Drinks Tonight. And Other Sundry Business. =-.


    I’m totally a ninjatherapist. Or, you know. Just someone who had PPD and can see it in others. LIKE A MAGICIAN.

    Cutting out the booze is actually good. I lost so much weight when I stopped the drinking. And then I started it again.

    Everything is going to be goooooood. You’ll get through it. I promise.
    .-= Melissa Lion’s last blog post… Nuts! =-.

  8. Assbag’s good. Bet it catches fire all over the internets, quicker than you can say “i should have sold rights to it”!

    Well, that’s ok. Your Queefs will always know where we saw it first, and place bets on where we might quickly see it next.

  9. Just show ninjatherapist your boobs, you have a nice rack and if she’s a lez, she’ll jump right on it and do a motorboat. If she’s straight she’ll probably request some new type of therapy……….Either way, you can offer to show them to the receptionist for payment and who knows, maybe they will net you a hefty discount.
    .-= Rebecca’s last blog post… Name Calling =-.

  10. that’s actually the OLD photo, rebecca.. 😉

    there will be more changes to come, hopefully over the weekend. crissy’s gonna owe the webmaster AT LEAST a fist rocket before all is said and done!

  11. maybe the ninjerapist is giving you a test? like how god wanted abraham or one of those bible dudes to kill his kid, but then didn’t actually make him, just wanted to see if he WOULD? maybe she is just tricking you to see if you WOULD give up wine and chocolate and jillian, because otherwise this is CRAZYTALK.
    .-= Alice’s last blog post… i’m officially a Pole Master! (believe me, i already know all the dirty puns you can make with that title.) =-.

  12. I’m curious, did she say ALL chocolate or just regular old M&M type chocolate? My (not therapist but regular old general) doctor actually recommended that I eat a small piece of “good quality” dark chocolate daily to help with my SAD issues. My friend who also suffers from SAD got one of those multi-spectrum lights prescribed for her to keep at her night job. When she was working nights, she said it helped immensely.

  13. I am on drugs….otherwise..I really don’t know but someone in my house might not be living to see another day. I am half psycho even with them so without them I am fully psychotic. PPD is some scary shit though. Even with my drugs I was a total nut job. I thought the hospital was trying to suck out my thoughts through that giant ass baby shit yellow titty pump they pushed on me. Then you have all these douches saying “Oh you have two beautiful children you should be the happiest person on earth” and well fuck them. They don’t have a 10 lb baby hanging from their nipple and a two year old having tantrum seizures anytime they leave the house. I say…DRUGS! And lots of them. Until homeslice turns 18. Oh and maybe even then because then you will have empty nest syndrome. Do the syndromes ever end? Oh and I love my kids I really really do but some days I think “fuckfuckfuckityfuck what in the hell was I thinking?”. Sorry about my tirade. I call it a mommy tantrum.

  14. Oh and my lesdar plays Indigo Girls. It is kinda broken though and skips. Half of my friends from school ended up being lesbians.

  15. My lesdar is not a sound, but visual flash (ok fantasy). It is amazing that over 99% of the beautiful women I see like playing for both teams.

  16. Cut out chocolate? I don’t understand. I thought that makes people happy.

    I’m sorry hon, I really do hope you feel hoards better soon. Sending you lots of big hugs and if you want, I’ll go kick your ninja therapist for you and force her to tell you that you can continue eating chocolate.
    .-= Marie’s last blog post… Manly Men =-.

  17. Okay, sorry to be Debbie Downer here, but I’m kind of worried about you.

    You are so adorable, and so clever, and so cute. And it’s so awful to feel so crummy. Unfortunately, nothing anyone says is very helpful — I’ve certainly been there myself. Four times, for sure, after each kid.

    Please take the best care of yourself. Hire a babysitter. Take an evening off and take a good long nap. Trade kids with a friend. You need (I think) down time, when you’re responsible for no one and nothing. I know it’s all advice you’ve gotten before, and it sounds so trite, but you need to tend to yourself first. Please???
    .-= expateek’s last blog post… Oh, your cleaning lady knows EVERYTHING…. =-.

  18. I’m sad you’re in RI, because when I saw that fresh face, it made me want to roll you and me up in a snuggie real tight and bite your back/shoulder till I drew blood, while I feed you chocolate and fuck you with a wii remote… or my huge cock… or both at the same time.

    Alas, I’ll have to draw blood/object rape someone else, or maybe just myself.


    Nice writing.

  19. maybe Monica needs to give up wine and chocolate … see how she feels

    PPD sucks ass but it goes away. I’d be leary of the mood pills … they’re hell to get off … they’re evil, but that’s just my opinion

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