<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698</id><updated>2011-07-30T17:06:23.521-04:00</updated><category term='worry'/><category term='childhood'/><category term='therapy'/><category term='irrational'/><category term='research'/><category term='Psychiatrist'/><category term='scared'/><category term='psychologist'/><category term='jealousy'/><category term='grocery stores'/><category term='soda and depression'/><category term='social'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='mental health'/><category term='smells'/><category term='need a shrink'/><category term='depression'/><category term='eating in public'/><category term='help'/><category term='neurotic'/><category term='hope'/><category term='life'/><category term='soda'/><category term='lights'/><category term='twenty-something'/><category term='caffeine'/><category term='fatty foods'/><category term='job'/><category term='lying'/><category term='study'/><category term='panic'/><category term='aroma'/><category term='serious illness'/><category term='family'/><category term='phobia'/><category term='processed food'/><category term='overbearing'/><category term='anger'/><category term='sugar'/><category term='frustration'/><category term='social phobia'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='paranoia'/><category term='mental illness'/><category term='looking for a shrink'/><category term='grocery store phobia'/><category term='separation anxiety'/><category term='sadness'/><title type='text'>Nihilistic Blues</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-4034033567368425031</id><published>2009-11-11T10:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T10:14:40.786-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caffeine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sugar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='research'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soda and depression'/><title type='text'>Soda and Depression</title><content type='html'>Last week I researched a bit about the link between soda and depression. Of course, as with all bad things that we love, it is linked to depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few points:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I drink a lot of Pepsi. If I don't consume soda for a few days..or even a day, I get edgy, irritable (not so different from how I usually feel), and I get headaches and just generally blah all-around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- As soon as I take that glorious first sip of Pepsi, things are good again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- An &lt;a href="http://depression.about.com/b/2009/10/07/drop-the-soda-habit-and-feel-better.htm"&gt;article &lt;/a&gt;I read said that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;One small cohort trial found that when people eliminated sugar and caffeine from their diet those with unexplained depression experienced improved moods within a week. When caffeine and sugar were reintroduced into their diet, their symptoms returned; but, placebo did not produce the same effect. Giving further credence to the caffeine-depression link, another study found that regular consumption of high levels of caffeine (&gt;750 mg daily) appears to be associated with depression.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never noticed improved moods when I went a week without any soda/caffeine, it was the complete opposite. Or maybe I'm just imagining it that way or perhaps it's because I have depression any way you look at it, with or without caffeine/sugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to read more on the subject but I'm having a hard time finding concrete facts on it. Any links/info would be appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-4034033567368425031?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/4034033567368425031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=4034033567368425031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/4034033567368425031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/4034033567368425031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/soda-and-depression.html' title='Soda and Depression'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-2085589783340812633</id><published>2009-11-11T08:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T08:12:30.979-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='need a shrink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paranoia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='panic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>Anger Management</title><content type='html'>I'm so mad. I can't even tell you exactly why or at what, but I'm mad. I'm angry. Frustrated. I don't know what to call it. If I could express it right now to you, it would be a long paragraph of expletives followed by a bunch of dots ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's basically how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to think that the pain in my chest that I've had since Friday is related to this anger and this panic that I've been having. It's getting worse every day. I don't know what triggered it, but I'm on a steady decline here and I don't what to do. No, no I don't want o die, that's not what I'm saying. I've become very serious in the last two weeks. I haven't laughed in forever, nothing makes me smile, I feel like I've just grown into a lump of flesh who stares at screens all day and barely existing. It's taking its toll on my relationship now. I hate feeling like this. Every other word is a worry in my head. I worry about everything now. Everything. If my boyfriend is four minutes late I go into a angry tornado spin and suspect the worst. I feel like everyone is lying to me. No one is honest and I'm starting to wonder if I'm the one who's not being honest here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to talk to someone. Preferably in English.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-2085589783340812633?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/2085589783340812633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=2085589783340812633&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/2085589783340812633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/2085589783340812633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/anger-management.html' title='Anger Management'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-6204733981052072216</id><published>2009-11-06T08:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T08:42:17.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is You</title><content type='html'>Came across&lt;a href="http://createyourownconfidence.typepad.com/beyond/2009/11/its-all-you.html"&gt; this post&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://createyourownconfidence.typepad.com/beyond/"&gt;Create Your Own Confidence&lt;/a&gt; and thought it should be shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="entry-content"&gt;   &lt;div class="entry-body"&gt;    &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;The tough truth is that how you feel is your responsibility. Only you can decide to get the help and support you need, to feel better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;And how you feel is driven by what you got inside of you. The world is filtered through you and by you. The world feels like what you got on the inside. (I know, harsh but true)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;In you and on you is the only place where you really have the power to feel better, to become more powerful and strong and to learn how to enjoy life and develop the capacity to do and be who you want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;        &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-6204733981052072216?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/6204733981052072216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=6204733981052072216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/6204733981052072216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/6204733981052072216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-is-you.html' title='It Is You'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-3958508632553918906</id><published>2009-11-06T08:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T08:37:21.056-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating in public'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='separation anxiety'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psychologist'/><title type='text'>On Shrinks and Childhood</title><content type='html'>Well I woke up in a vile mood today. Feeling alone and not too happy with anything right now. I've realized how much I've pushed everyone away and of course, it's my fault I'm alone. But what can I do? At this age it's pretty hard to meet and befriend new people. Especially considering I'm not working or going to school, which makes it double as hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I contacted a therapist in the area who seems like the Ideal Shrink for me except for the language barrier. He only takes french patients...and while I speak French at a passing level, I don't think I have the energy or good enough french to express myself well enough in such a situation. I don't know what to do. He said to call him...which terrifies me. I'm so tired of being scared of such bullshit. What can I do? I know the most logical thing you can tell me is "just get over it" and...I tried, but it isn't so easy, now is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just miss having a best friend to do stupid things with. I do stupid things with my boyfriend but it just isn't the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much do therapists charge in the U.S., I'm curious? Here in Canada I was told by one psychologist that it would cost $75 for a 45 minute session and another said $90 per meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I saw a psychologist I was around seven or eight years old and I had separation anxiety. Her last name was Peacock and I don't think she had much of an impact on me. We had a few sessions together and a few where my mother joined us. I can't remember the details but it wasn't an enjoyable experience. I remember my family doctor said something about the umbilical cord still being attached, so to speak and that was the problem with me, except it wasn't attached to me and my mother, but to me and my great aunt. A few years later I saw another shrink because people thought I had an eating disorder becuse no one ever saw me eating at school. I didn't have an eating disorder, you freaks, I had a eating-in-public disorder. Which I still have, in case you wondering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-3958508632553918906?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/3958508632553918906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=3958508632553918906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/3958508632553918906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/3958508632553918906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/on-shrinks-and-childhood.html' title='On Shrinks and Childhood'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-1586760509434643734</id><published>2009-11-04T10:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T10:31:01.543-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serious illness'/><title type='text'>Give Up Hope = Be Happier? Yes, please</title><content type='html'>An interesting article from the Daily Telegraph on giving up hope and becoming happier for doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GIVING up hope can actually make some people living with a serious illness happier, according to US researchers who have found a "dark side of hope".&lt;!-- google_ad_section_end(name=story_introduction) --&gt;      &lt;/strong&gt;    &lt;!-- // .story-intro --&gt;   &lt;!-- google_ad_section_start(name=story_body, weight=medium) --&gt;   &lt;p&gt;A study by the University of Michigan Health Center for Behavioral and Decision Sciences in Medicine involved a group of adults who had their colons removed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In total 41 people were told their colostomy was reversible and they could undergo a second operation to reconnect their bowels after several months and get rid of their colostomy bag.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another 30 individuals were told that the colostomy was permanent.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The study, published in the latest issue of &lt;em&gt;Health Psychology&lt;/em&gt;, found the second group, the one without hope, reported being happier over the next six months than those with reversible colostomies. Full article &lt;a href="http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/breaking-news/researchers-find-dark-side-of-hope/story-e6freuz9-1225794263836"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-1586760509434643734?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/1586760509434643734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=1586760509434643734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1586760509434643734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1586760509434643734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/give-up-hope-be-happier-yes-please.html' title='Give Up Hope = Be Happier? Yes, please'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-1442516097861352532</id><published>2009-11-04T10:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T10:26:40.962-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychiatrist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='looking for a shrink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psychologist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>In Search Of: A Shrink</title><content type='html'>I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but things haven't been good. Nothing is really "bad", per se, but I find myself getting so angry at absolutely nothing. I take everything to heart, even if it was just a silly joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been considering looking for a therapist, but it's so hard to find an English speaking one around here. Or they're too far. Or too expensive. But I'm getting to the point where I feel as if I really need to talk to someone. Someone, preferably who won't make me feel like shit about how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have a fantasy where I'll find my perfect therapist and suddenly everything will make sense and I will get answers to my questions about why I'm the way I am and why I'm so closed off to everything and everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that probably won't ever happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-1442516097861352532?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/1442516097861352532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=1442516097861352532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1442516097861352532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1442516097861352532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-search-of-shrink.html' title='In Search Of: A Shrink'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-8939422028183163556</id><published>2009-11-03T11:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T11:10:18.985-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fatty foods'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='research'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='processed food'/><title type='text'>Eat Poorly, Feel Poorly</title><content type='html'>Not surprising, really. Read the full article &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8334353.stm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="first"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="first"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eating a diet high in processed food increases the risk of depression, research suggests.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is more, people who ate plenty of vegetables, fruit and fish actually had a lower risk of depression, the University College London team found. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Data on diet among 3,500 middle-aged civil servants was compared with depression five years later, the British Journal of Psychiatry reported. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-8939422028183163556?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/8939422028183163556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=8939422028183163556&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/8939422028183163556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/8939422028183163556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/eat-poorly-feel-poorly.html' title='Eat Poorly, Feel Poorly'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-8618398604485900429</id><published>2009-11-03T10:47:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T10:52:20.680-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery stores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aroma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery store phobia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social phobia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irrational'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smells'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overbearing'/><title type='text'>Panic! At the Grocery Store!</title><content type='html'>Why can I walk into Wal-Mart, department stores, clothing stores, etc but as soon as the thought of a grocery store pops into my head I want to vomit? Nothing bad has ever happened to me in a grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-If the store only has one entrance, it's hell (and poorly designed!)&lt;br /&gt;- Walking into a heavy-smell grocery store is even worse. Why do all grocery store entrances lead into the bakery/vegetable section&lt;br /&gt;- Going at a time when there isn't many people is best, but not always possible&lt;br /&gt;- Grocery store lighting sucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ideal grocery store would have multiple entrances, and the entrance would be into the canned good aisles so that we're (or I) are not bombarded by endless aromas that make want to vomit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-8618398604485900429?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/8618398604485900429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=8618398604485900429&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/8618398604485900429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/8618398604485900429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/panic-at-grocery-store.html' title='Panic! At the Grocery Store!'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-3962161499109861193</id><published>2009-11-03T08:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T08:06:58.829-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paranoia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jealousy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Every Little Thing He Does</title><content type='html'>My paranoia has been really bad the last couple months. I'm convinced that everything my partner says is a lie. Even the smallest thing, I freak out and think that things are going on behind my back. And it doesn't stop there. I investigate until I can prove to myself that he isn't actually lying to me. When I can't, I just can't let it go. It gets to me until I blow up at him, which of course leads to a fight about self-confidence and jealousy. I don't mean to. Until recently I couldn't even see myself doing it, but now I feel it coming and I know that I'm not strong enough to fight it off. So I stare out the window and see which direction he comes from. Because if he comes from the other direction, well, he wasn't where he said, was he? If the phone rings and it isn't a phone number I know, I google it, I reverse look up on five different phone number sites. When I get a name (and it's female), I research the name. I go on Facebook to see who it is. It's usually a wrong number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really short-tempered with him lately too and I can feel it starting to take its toll. I mean, he's still with me and he's put up with a lot. I get mad when he spills something or drops something, as if it's his fault. It's really stupid but I have a hard time just letting things go now and it's starting to get a bit scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't get into my jealousy issues now, because I know there will be plenty of those posts later on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-3962161499109861193?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/3962161499109861193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=3962161499109861193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/3962161499109861193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/3962161499109861193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/every-little-thing-he-does.html' title='Every Little Thing He Does'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-1880165558455969148</id><published>2009-11-03T07:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T07:55:59.297-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social phobia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phobia'/><title type='text'>Walking out the Door</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty nervous about getting a phone call from the job I applied to yesterday. I'm trying to talk myself out of doing what I always do: ignore the phone when it rings when I see that it's a potential employer. Why do I do this? I know that having a job would be a good thing for me, and maybe even help me with all my weird ass problems, but........I'm still nervous about it. Part of me is hoping that they don't call. What is wrong with me for not wanting a steady income and stability?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking of going to the doctor's and asking for meds to help with the anxiety, but I don't want to become dependent on them like some people. I don't like pills. Three years ago I was put on Effexor and it turned me into a zombie where all I did was stare at the TV and ignore everything. It didn't help me, if anything, it heightened everything that was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's also the fact that I don't want to change certain things about myself, like some meds can do. I have a healthy, normal sex drive and I don't want the meds to zap that. I don't want it to trigger other possible weird side effects, because clearly I have enough of those without medication as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe instead of being like all of America, I should set myself a goal for every day to reach in hopes of getting over..things. Sometimes I find it really hard to walk out the door for the most mundane things. I put so much hype on it that when I go to take a step out the door I turn back around and come inside. Sometimes I make it down the stairs and across the parking lot and have to come back inside. Maybe I should just force myself to do these things once a day, even if I feel like I'm going to be sick. Even if I feel like I can't do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-1880165558455969148?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/1880165558455969148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=1880165558455969148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1880165558455969148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/1880165558455969148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/walking-out-door.html' title='Walking out the Door'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4796120211911471698.post-324908264193761829</id><published>2009-11-02T13:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T13:09:33.483-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twenty-something'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social phobia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neurotic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phobia'/><title type='text'>A Small Intro</title><content type='html'>It has occurred to me that people aren't very honest about how fucked up they are. Of course, not everyone wants to share it with the world and maybe not everyone is interested in hearing about other people's neurosis, but I'm the kind of person that likes to know that I'm not the only person out there who has to give themselves a 40-minute pep talk to walk out the door just to go to the corner store. Or who wants to vomit every time I have to set foot in a grocery store or restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I went to submit my resume somewhere and I literally had to walk around the block three times before getting the nerve to walk in the building because I thought I was going to be sick. I'm sure the ladies out front thought I was nuts, but when I finally went in I was OK. As usual. Maybe I'll get a job there, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm 27, slightly neurotic, mildly nuts and this is where I'll document it to help others who get nervous at the thought of completely normal, every-day things. Welcome to my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4796120211911471698-324908264193761829?l=absurdblues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/feeds/324908264193761829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4796120211911471698&amp;postID=324908264193761829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/324908264193761829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4796120211911471698/posts/default/324908264193761829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://absurdblues.blogspot.com/2009/11/small-intro.html' title='A Small Intro'/><author><name>Jennifer B</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ifIdmoIvLQY/Sw02FCwhpMI/AAAAAAAAAYs/fNNHpVhjvW8/S220/DSCN0270-pola01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
