hedonism is the new black.

getting my clothes out of the dryer, i started reproaching myself for thinking too much about LP—then laughing about how absurdly harsh i am with my own profoundly gentle self—then realized that of course i’m feeling things a little differently these days because i stopped taking prozac earlier this week. ‘go to hell, prozac! you will decrease my libido no more! and i will feel emotions! yeah! like a human being! i will experience allllll the rasas! all of them at once if i want to!’

it’s not like i’ve never not taken prozac before. (i tell myself.) i didn’t have any for most of the time when i was in italy. for example. where i took the lovely photo you see here. yes, dear, but rome is not baltimore. baltimore, with nothing to take the edge off, is going to take some getting used to.

so i blocked my mother from my phone. that helped. wow, talk about taking the edge off.  boy howdy. but i need something more. i need to let myself write here. and there. manage these damn emotions the old-fashioned way.

admissions and fair warning.

1. i miss LP.  i’ve barely heard a peep from him since i got back to baltimore. and this time last week he was holding me. i just went to do my laundry and the stale cigarette smell was overwhelming foul. and i cried a little. LP smokes a pack and a half a day.
2. now i’m crying a little more.
3. the mysterious condition i was talking about yesterday is vaginismus. i finally talked to the mad doctor for about an hour on skype then got myself scheduled for his superdeluxe botox procedure on october 20th.
4. i could tell you more than you ever wanted to know about vaginismus. i could give you 95 theses. it’s an embarrassingly 19th century sort of affliction, i guess—and i guess i’ve spent about 15 years being embarrassed about it—time to put the old dog down.
5. now that i’m done being embarrassed, i think i might have to talk about it a lot.