My days had become shackled to search engines and held hostage by the big, nagging question that was up in flashing lights....
What the FUCK?
Hmmm...is it a cyst?
Ahhh...a fatty necrosis?
Oooh oooh...this is IT...the fibroadenoma!! That's all it is...I've got a simple fibroadenoma!
WHEW!
As I bounced and twirled my new little "friend" between the index and middle fingers of my right hand, I exhaled with a huge relief.
What the...??????
It was a cool, crisp winter's day...what we here in SW Florida call a "chamber of commerce day".
I hadn't a care in the world!
I was thrilled that the Prozac was working its magic, and I had recently gotten quite fit-ish, and lost 10 pounds.
Celebrating my new figure, and still clipping tags from a month's long shopping binge (discount, of course), I was gearing up to go after my long procrastinated dream of becoming a kick ass professional makeup artist to the Stars!!!
…But, pink is sooooo NOT my color
I had been taking Fluoxetine (Prozac) since October '09 to subdue the terrifying panic attacks I'd been having for the past couple years.
My doctor had been offering this therapy to me for a while, but I was insistent that I could "mind fuck" myself out of an attack if I trained my brain to do so.
But after too many failed attempts, the panic attacks had become incredibly frequent, and had grown far too intense to ride out alone.
My doctor had been offering this therapy to me for a while, but I was insistent that I could "mind fuck" myself out of an attack if I trained my brain to do so.
But after too many failed attempts, the panic attacks had become incredibly frequent, and had grown far too intense to ride out alone.
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