Bupropion Diaries: Anxiety Attack, Weight Loss, and other Sundry – A Freethought Ramble

I woke up Thursday morning with the worst possible anxiety. It knotted in my stomach and smoked in my chest making me feel sick and unable to rest. As I wrote this I was on my way to a Fetish Convention in Rhodes Island, so my dogs were at the babysitter’s. I’m fairly sure that’s where the anxiety is, to be honest (yes, I’m a crazy dog lesbian. Please fill out your bingo cards if you’re playing the stereotype game). It’s not that I think my friend will do anything to hurt my dogs. She’s a top notch behaviorist and runs a rescue from her home. If anyone is qualified to look after my elderly malamute princess of the cosmos and my stupid moose of a mix breed pup, it’s her. I even adopted my puppy from her.

From Airplane the Movie

It’s that my bed was very empty without them. I’m used to Pup commando crawling up my side to give me kisses and wag his long tail lazily against me. He’s so big now that he can stretch out to as long as I am tall and he will only be a year old next month. When I finally say something to him Princess flops against me too and sighs. She’d much rather lounge in bed for a few more hours. Her muzzle is getting grey and white and sometimes she puts too much stress on her hip running up and down the stairs. She thinks she’s as spry as Pup though, and who am I to tell her otherwise? I’d be lying if she wasn’t one of the reasons I am glad that I found an apartment to move to that has no stairs to climb.

The dogs are my companions, they are always happy to see me, they always are willing to go for a walk or a run and they never don’t want me to touch them. More than that, they’re my protectors. I don’t go one walk without people commenting “Woah, those are big dogs” or “Is that a wolf?” I have to laugh about it. Pup is so young that he adores everyone, but he’s a pitbull mix so people are terrified of him. Princess, on the other hand, she is a guard dog. She’s always at my side, quiet and steadfast. She puts herself between me and strangers and I know without a doubt that she would protect me. It makes it difficult, however, because she is a malamute and she definitely has the “fuck you, you’re not my mom” attitude towards most everyone else.

In better news, the Ladyfriend texted me as I was at the airport to tell me she loved me. I’m sad that she couldn’t join me this weekend, but I understand graduate school. I wouldn’t keep her from that for the world. She’s blossomed so much there and she knows what she wants. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Sure, I miss her and I hope that she gets a job in my hometown, if not, I’m a biomedical engineering tech. I’m pretty sure I could find a job to move with her.

I love that woman so damn much it really does all of those stupid things that love stories say it does. It hurts and it elates, it makes you excited and nervous and content. I’m proud of who she is and who she is becoming and I’m excited to see the rest of her life. I think that’s one of the things that I really like about our relationship. I don’t want her to give herself up to combine into one person with me and she doesn’t expect that of me. Our lives are different and sometimes separate but always in the same direction. I wasn’t missing a part of myself before her and I don’t believe that she was either. We didn’t form one single thing when our relationship hit its stride. We combined into a partnership and I wouldn’t trade that for any institutionalized oneness.

I’m flying again, it makes me existential or something to that nature. The clouds have finally broken up and I can see the ground far below us. The land here isn’t like the straight, quilt-like lines of farmland. There’s no patchwork coat on the land. Instead it’s hills and valleys, winding roads and turning streams proved some legacy of erosion that happened ages ago. It’s early enough yet that I can see shadows play behind the rising hills. We’ve finally hit altitude, the levelness of the plane gives me a total view of the land below me.

I was trying to explain on a business trip why I loved my country so much. I couldn’t put it into words. They were confused about the gun laws, about how religious the country was and any number of things. I said “I love it here, for all the fucked up But looking down and realizing how different it is to fly to the south, verses the east coast, verses the west coast… I don’t know. For all the fucked up crap that we do to each other here, it’s beautiful.


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Filed under Bupropion Diaries, Personal Life

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