I think the best way to eliminate all zen from my life is to make a public announcement about being extremely zen. Day in and day out of intensified nausea has sapped all my patience. I’m about done feeling like death.

On Monday, I had a doctor’s appointment with a new psych. I call this doc the head meds doc because I go just to have my antidepressants managed. I used to go to an old guy from the ‘burbs but the last time I went to see him I felt like he just wasn’t much help. Dude seemed to be phoning it in. And if I were getting by pretty well, I can see where he didn’t need to hop to my request for a meds re-eval. But, at that point, I told him I was nearing the end of my rope, I could feel myself falling apart. At that point, I was on three (3) different anti-depressants. Three.

I seriously debated about keeping the appointment on Monday. I wondered how much difference there could possibly be between one psych and another. I’ve spent the past six months or so trying to accept that maybe I am just profoundly deeply flawed, which is fine when it’s just me screwing up my own life, but I gotta get it together for my little stowaway.

So I kept the appointment, and I am really glad I did. She took a look at my meds, and told me that I wasn’t even taking therapeutic doses of any of them. Doc #1 prescribed half dosages. She was far more thorough than #1 ever was, and had ideas, information and suggestions. I feel hopeful and more optimistic than I have in a very long time. Perhaps I am not fatally flawed.

And it makes me angry that I begged someone for help, and he dismissed me. And it’s not like I was complaining about a runny nose. I told him that I couldn’t go on like this, I told him that I was coming to the end of my rope. I had a general practice doc tell me once that perhaps I should install pictures of my friends to assauge my depression. WTF. If you don’t know about depression, refrain from making assinine suggestions. I’m sure there’s a lot of people who view depression as something akin to a phantom illness; I just didn’t expect my psychiatrist to be one of them.

I went downtown today, and trolled Clark Street’s alternative stores for amusement on my way home. I found a store that actually sold Dog Breath Gum, as well as Cat Butt Stickers. So I think my idea for a revolutionary line of dog odor home products has already been appropriated, and apparently expanded into cats, and probably other animals. Ferrets seem a natural candidate for odor-related products. (WHY do they smell so bad? Are they related to skunks? Ok, I just checked wikipedia. They are related to weasels and polecats (I wonder if these are the same animal . . . ) and the “musky” odor is apparently related to their fixed status, if I understand correctly.)

But I digress.

The “father” of my child has been a source of some concern for me. And when I counted back in my day-by-day pregnancy journal to the approximate date of conception, I realized that I don’t think I know exactly who the father is. Yeah, how great is that. I’m getting more white trash by the minute. My brother asked me about the status of the father, and I said we just weren’t dating anymore. He said, good, I was afraid I was going to see you on the Maury Povich show screaming about my baby daddy.

I actually looked up my cell phone records to see who exactly I was communicating with at the date of alleged conception, and it wasn’t who I thought it was. This doesn’t actually change things much. The most likely candidate still isn’t really interested in being a baby daddy, so I’m still in the same boat. This one might step up to the plate and have something to do with our child, but I am beginning to think that evenso, he will probably treat me with thinly veiled distaste whenever we do have to interact. In the time that I’ve spent with him, I’m beginning to see that he isn’t fundamentally really keen on women. (I do love my armchair psychology–my theory is that he holds his mother responsible for his flawed relationship with his father; he didn’t meet his real dad until he was 20.) What’s funny is that I can see this guy being a good dad, but I don’t think he’ll ever be a really good husband or partner.

I checked to see how early paternity testing can be done. We could do it now, but it’s pricey, so I’ll check that out after the birth of the lima bean.

Back to dog odor products–big rain tonight, so now I’ve got a big stinky wet dog. She wasn’t much for the rain, kept blinking her eyes hard, like, Why? Is? Someone? Flicking? Water? Into? My? Eyes?