September 18—I’m not sure I’m digging this drug. Every night I have weird sensations and I bite the inside of my mouth. It’s not a very happy, peaceful sensation either. During the day I feel like an observer but never a participant. I don’t write or call P and I don’t even care to. And yet, it’s like I’m angry at this third person for not calling him or writing him. Like, I’m hovering over myself, saying, “Call your boyfriend,” but I feel so grossly out of touch with the world, that someone inside me answers back, “Fuck the boyfriend.” You see? I have this glazed-over look about me. Like a woman on antidepressants. Oh wait. I am a woman on antidepressants. Maybe too heavy a dose.

I’m so out of touch with the sensations of my body too. It took a while before I realized I had a aches from the gym on Tuesday.

Underneath all this zombie-esque behavior I can still feel the tug of my “wanting” self. Underneath, buried, I still feel angry, hurt, enraged, in pain. Mostly directed at P. And yet, it’s contained, somewhere. In a very safe, enclosed place within me. It’s not free-flowing and part of me, like usual, but rather, securely boxed up incapable of getting out. Prozac has given me the illusion that I am clearly divided into three separate parts. Three separate wills. Three separate characters. There’s my higher self that acts more like a spirit overlooking my body. There’s my bodily self which includes the mind, but has no real emotions or feelings. It simply works and thinks. It makes scrambled eggs, it takes care of the children, it takes a shower…And then, there’s my core self, where my emotions are boxed up and stored but not let out.

Prozac has broken me into three. And by doing so, it has compartmentalized my higher self and my core self so they don’t interfere with the work the body needs to do. I can’t determine if that’s how I want to address this issue anymore. If drugs solve the problem in this way, is anything really solved. Ugh. Too heavy to think about now.

Yesterday was nice. I was a bit bored and lonely, and P and I had nothing to talk about. But, once the kids got home I was very busy. Before they came in, I started making dinner, cleaned and cooked too. That’s the greatest benefit of this stuff. My emotions and negative thoughts don’t interfere with what my body and mind have to do to get the job done.

Oh yes, and the whole drama with R is over. It ended with him saying that A is moving in and they are eventually getting married. I felt hugely sorry for A. I can’t imagine that he’s changed so much since we divorced that he’s moved in “keeper” status.