Down Time

I am sick, sick, sick right now. Sore throat on Sunday quickly went to my lungs (lifelong asthmatic who recently became non-compliant with her medication regime and walked 2 miles on Friday despite having for several days what was clearly, in hindsight,  asthma related back pain) and fever by yesterday.

When I called to make an appointment to see my doctor, in itself is a victory (I'd usually wait until I was sicker - like close to needing to be hospitalized sick), the receptionist said the next available appointment was on the 31st. My response, without thinking about it, was "No. I'm having asthma issues and need to be seen today." This is another victory. While I'm feeling and acting a bit cranky because I'm sick, self-advocacy is NOT a skill I typically posess when sick. My doctors know, because I tell them, that when I call I really need them and they need to be exceedingly simple in their explanation of what to do - to essentially take charge of me. I completely lose that ability when my lungs have gone fully awry.

I've been treated by a specialist for these lung flares over the past 10 years - this is the first time I'm seeing my new general practitioner (and I saw her colleague) for this. I was super scared of making the switch and the potential for having to take responsibility for my care. The specialist just gets it, lung flares are her daily business. For the first 35 years of my life, most doctors, like me, didn't get to know me much less my lungs, so I suffered more than I needed to for much longer than necessary.

When I was in the room yesterday, the doc knew exactly what I needed and gave it to me without any input from me. I love her so much for that. For getting it. For taking care of me when I can't/don't/won't do it for myself.

The powerful drugs she prescribed are coursing through my veins and helping me feel better already. I should be feeling like a superhero soon.

I'm reminded that it's important to be honest with yourself and your doctor about your needs. To communicate what you know to be true about your body and behavior. It's scary as fuck, to be honest and vulnerable. Especially when that bitchy voice in the back of your head is so effective at making you believe that no one else will try to meet your needs, so why try...

Yep. I regularly fall off the wagon and become non-compliant with my medication regime. I don't know exactly why it happens. But I'm working on that - figuring out why and getting/staying on track. I appreciate that my doctor('s office) is willing to be my partner in this. It's good to know I've got people on my team - all I need to do is say it out loud, to fully own that I need to ask for help with my lungs, food, exercise, whatever. For fucks sake, I can't do it alone and clearly this time lying in bed has been important so that I can understand this and let it settle into my bones.

Placebo?

Today marks two weeks of being on the antidepressant Venlafaxine (Effexor). The lowest dose possible taken each morning with food. Here's what I've noticed:

About an hour after I take it I get a bit "heady". Spacy, tired, or something along those lines. Hard to describe. And a bit of dry mouth that lands on my throat and sinuses. Makes me feel a bit "gaggy".

It all wears off by mid morning and I'm able to focus on the activities of the day with more focus than usual. With the exception of the second or third day of the medicine in which I had an intense bout of anxiety that lasted nearly an hour, I'm calm, able to organize my thoughts and words, interested in leaving the house, and in relatively zero pain!

Well, I am a bit uncomfortable from being constipated but that's nothing new. My colon has long held on too tight.

So, I don't lack emotional fortitude. It's an honest-to-goodness physical-brain thing. Which is at the same time comforting and disconcerting.

My doctor has said I don't need to take the medicine forever. My mind is already planning on when to try to get off of it. My other mind says slow down and ride the wave for a minute. Let your body rest. Let your mind find some new coping tools. Let it sink into your bones. Slow down!

Placebo or not, it feels good.

So Far

So good.

I've had dry mouth induced nausea each day for a couple of days. It lasts a while but eventually calms down. Nite to self: Increasing water intake should help.

Yesterday I had a bit of a panic for no apparent reason so I took a break alone instead of pushing through. It took a long time to come down.

I'm as tired as usual but the pain may be less than it was earlier this week. Could it be working? Could it be working that fast? 

Mornings haven't been as painful and I've had thoughts of what I need/want to do in the morning. Follow through, not as much but maybe on the uptick?!

Today I'm writing while I test the couch position that is most common, super uncomfortable and always makes me hurt when I get up. So far, my knees aren't screaming at me.

Okay, I should get to my morning.

😊

The Plunge

The pain I've been experiencing for some time now has reached its tipping point. Third visit to the doctor in less than a year for continuing leg pain and now joint pain feels a bit hopeless. Hopeless isn't the right word but it's all that comes to mind.

It's an antidepressant and is very often used to treat myalgia, in this case, the diagnosis. And you, my dear readers, are well aware that depression could possibly be the culprit as well. I openly admitted to the doctor that depression is a real likely thing. If I'm honest, it's probably *the* thing - I'm farther down the rabbit hole of disinterest, doing less than the bare minimum at home and squandering any free time I do have with tv or listening to stories or isolating myself than I can remember ever being before. Seeing it here is kinda frightening and forces me away from discounting it by saying "I'm not hopeless, or suicidal or feeling horrible all the time". On the other hand I'm not enjoying much. I'm sitting back watching life busy doing it's thing. There are some great moments for sure but moreover I feel disconnected and a bit numb. Yeah, that's *the thing* called depression, isn't it?

First dose of Effexor today. I noticed dry mouth and a headache.

I agreed to take the lowest possible dose and see if it works. Just like the IUD, if I don't like it or it doesn't work for me, I'll stop. It's quite simple, really.

I'll keep you posted.

Format Change

Due to a ton of spam comments, I've made a change. Sorry for any inconvenience. I do love your feedback and hope the change won't keep you from sharing your thoughts.

Do Something for Yourself. Something You Love.

I've always been the one to capitulate to the needs of others, reinvent myself to suit their needs, to blend in, be silent to keep the peace. This is a problem for me because I don't consistently get my needs met.

The Nice Lady has recommended that when Twig gets incorrigible, mean or nasty, that I should leave and do something for myself. Something nice like buying flowers for myself (and not sale flowers).

It's been super hard to decide what to do, what I enjoy, what I like, and how to take care of myself. I have given up activities I enjoyed once upon a time, dropped ones I was trying to enjoy, and kept myself from exploring new ones. For financial reasons, mostly. But also because of space and time and family and work.

Excuses.

Since my temper tantrum last week where I sat in my fury and did nothing to make it easier for Wood or Twig to be near me - which I NEVER do (see first sentence above), I have felt closer to myself. 

Baseline self care...it's almost second nature for me these days to continue to eat at regular intervals, own my anger and not allow anyone to talk me out of my feelings, and ask for help from a friend. These are not things that have come easily to me - ever - they have been hard earned even after YEARS of soul-searching and gut wrenching work.

Wood told me Thursday evening that the Dr. knew immediately that I was angry with him and worried aloud that I wouldn't want to go back (I had left to pee and they talked ever so briefly).  In this session, I was forced to SEE MYSELF and despite "what matters" being the (not so great) delivery mechanism, it pushed me in a way I needed to be pushed.

I'm proud that I didn't give up my feelings. That I continued to feed and hydrate myself. That I voiced my feelings and didn't let other people off the hook. That I called a friend and over hot cocoa, had my feelings validated. Moved past being angry. And began listing activities and interests that I enjoy or want to enjoy - ways to take care of myself and nourish my soul.

Walking
Listening to stories - Podcasts - Snap Judgement, Strangers, 99% Invisible
(!) Photography - graffiti (!)
Crafting - taking art classes
Writing

And maybe most important, having hot cocoa with friends.

A N G R Y

The child psychologist said today that I need to:

-Let it go
-Decide what's important
-Accept that "this" is what kids do
-Have no emotions about it, whatever the fuck "it" is that's making me upset
-To not be angry

Guess what?

I am I N F U R I A T E D!

As in I want to demolish things, throw Shit, drive the car into people or a building. I want other people and things to feel my fury. F U R Y!

The fact that he suggested that what I want isn't important is the piece that has got me.

Is it not important that my kid (at age 10):

-flush the toilet after taking a dump?
-do homework?
-help around the house by putting HIS shoes, backpack, lunch, and other sundry items WHERE THEY BELONG?

What about:

-turning off the lights?
-closing the door when he is the last person in the house?
-brushing his teeth?
-wearing clean clothes?
-washing his hands after using the bathroom?

"Is it important?"

Fuck you.

It makes a difference to ME when he refuses to help with his stuff. I'm not a fucking servant. I DO NOT live to take care of his stuff because, well, he *doesn't feel like it* right now. So why expect him to follow through? Is it important? Not to him. So, you don't have to do anything if it's not important to you. Mom is the giving tree. The Boy just takes and takes. Great lesson.

This makes me want to move out and live alone.

Ramble, ramble. Sorry. Not sorry. My space.

Yes means Yes

I've kept a secret for 20 years. As in, haven't told anyone. Ever. Until today.

A little bit of shame was released in telling my best friend, Wood, that when I was a young undergrad, doing political work, I traveled across the state as a representative for my school, and what happened to me one weekend away.

The people I "worked" with had connections to other people that had come before us. Whenever there were opportunities to do so, the generations were connected.

I was "connected " to a guy who had a "big man on campus" type of reputation. One of those people that others either really liked or really didn't like. I didn't have any information at the time, except that my people really liked him.

For this particular weekend trip, my people asked if he could share my hotel room. I agreed. I'm supportive like that.

When he was in my hotel room, in my bed, and it was time to sleep, he didn't want to sleep. I didn't say "Yes", I didn't say "No".

He raped me.

I took the morning after pill as soon as I could once I got back to campus.  And told no one. It wasn't violent, it was a violation. One that I should have had the voice to say no to. I was ashamed to have agreed to let him stay in my room. It could have been prevented. By me.

So. There it is.

Excellent, Amazing

These words are used to describe my performance at the new gig. I like the job. The work isn't very tough. I have headspace at the end of most days. It's nice to hear I'm doing well. Unfortunately, by the time I make it back to my desk, I'm questioning whether it's true.

Its time to channel Stewart Smalley - "You're good enough, you're smart enough and gosh darn it, people like you." I'll add in something about how I'm already perfect and mistakes are inevitable.

Believing it and living it: this is the lesson.

Stretching

Many, many years ago I took a yoga class. During the class I felt rage - I wanted to scream, yell, throw things, and light the studio on fire - an intense rage! Today's lunchtime yoga class was the opposite of the rage filed class. Today's class was actually quite enjoyable, even calming. I plan on going back!

Judgment Card

Good morning and happy Monday! The new job begins today with startup paperwork and some scheduling... The judgment card came up for me this morning. Current phase is ending, be honest about past mistakes, and successes, dream big. I'm ready for new and I will make it GOOD!

Three Days

This is the third night in a row I've had insomnia. It had been at bay for a while. I'm not sure what shifted except maybe Wood being out of town or the ever elusive start date of my new job. Wood comes home tomorrow and the job, despite my new boss being fired today, starts Monday.

All in all, I've been well. There are moments of real clarity about my life, what's important, and what I want. I feel strong enough, most days, to manage my feelings and coach Twig through his. There are tough moments but they feel manageable. They don't have as much drain power that they did for a while.

Talked to another mom today who's has a very similar yet shorter duration Family-member-with-Alzheimer's move-in then out experience. And she described the crippling depression and anxiety that pummeled her once her mom moved out. It was so nice to hear someone talk about the exact feelings and responses I've had. Except she reluctantly decided to go the meds route.

There's so much more but I don't have the mental fortitude to continue to form semi-coherent sentences any more. It's 3:40am and I should try to get some sleep. G'nite.

Shift?

Monday is the day I meet with my nice lady, Rebecca. She's great, save her insistence on my attending Alanon meetings. Whatever.

I read my last post to her. Out loud. It was weird because it was scary in a way that writing and knowing someone will read it isn't. We talked a lot about fear and trauma. It felt good.

Maybe because it was my birthday Monday was swell. And so was Tuesday and today (even though someone decided to use our garbage area as a toilet. Eww, just gross.). Something feels easier. I suspect tomorrow, at my old job's luncheon, will be good. Friday too.

I feel like I can have a thought, make a plan and have it stick. We shall see.

On Celebrating Mothers Day

This year, I'm not all that interested in celebrating Mothers Day. It makes me sad. It's not just this year. Honestly, Hallmark holidays don't do it for me. Valentine's Day - Blech. Christmas - ugh. Okay, I generally don't like any holiday that everyone is supposed to celebrate the same thing in the same way.

See, there are people out there that don't have a mom. Women who lost their children to stillbirth, disease, abortion, car accidents, abduction. Moms that don't do too hot-a-job at caring for their kids or others. Women who want desperately to be a mom but can't. Moms who are here but are no longer mothering.

My friend J's mom died a couple of weeks ago. I loved that woman even though in the nearly 20 years J and I have been friends, I never met her. And C, someone I'm not at all close to, only acquaintances with, really, lost her dog suddenly last week. That dog was a sweetheart that I had the pleasure of being around a couple of times. Maybe they're celebrating, I don't know. I don't think so. I feel their pain on mothers day. 

Wood always asks what I want for Mothers Day and my birthday. I don't want for much. Rarely can he shop for me knowing he's hit a home run. This year, I sent him a list. I must have, around the same time, complained that our sheets were in disrepair. So, I didn't get what was on my list. I got bed sheets. They are lovely and I am grateful. It's just that I rarely have a want much less say what I want so not getting it is disappointing.

It's a lot like taking grandma out to eat for Mothers Day only to have her be unhappy the entire time. There's so much we can't have, will never have again. It's hard to celebrate three bathroom trips, two walks and countless stares or misunderstanding and pity during brunch. Wood's hangover from it, despite the fact that I cared for her during this challenging meal, was exceedingly heavy afterward.

I feel Wood's pain. Twig's, Grandma's, mine, yours, everyone's.

The holiday feels contrived. Dishonest. Exclusionary.

We made a valiant effort but it's hard to celebrate loss when you're in the thick of it.

Feelings oh-oh-oh Feelings

It seems like the primary feeling living inside me is sadness. I feel it so often for almost any reason - a television show, a kind gesture, a fleeting thought, idea or memory so faint I can't even conjure the image. It finds its way to the surface and before anyone knows what's happened the tears are flowing full force. They can be hard to stop.

Then there are the times I'm primarily overwhelmed. Suddenly, without notice, there is too much input, too much noise, I'm shaking and need everything to stop. I feel attacked, primarily at home, during simple conversation about things like what's for dinner. These interactions leave me feeling battered. It's like being afraid. Not the kind that is motivating. The kind that is exhausting and debilitating.

These feelings come and go. Some days I can power through the tasks on my list. Much of the time I feel weak. I definitely feel out of control. Not a reckless yell at people lack of control, more of an 'I'm not really sure that I can spend energy on anything except what's absolutely necessary and there's very little that's really important'. In this state its an 'I'm not in charge, I'm lacking a clear agenda, I'm close to unrecognizable, not sure of who I am and who I want to be' lack of control.

It's almost like a paradigm shift - a reevaluation of the value of every decision to do something, of every moment in time leading up to now and whether being productive, performing, or perfect is at all relevant. Because I feel irrelevant. And that's simultaneously the most freeing and discouraging feeling I've ever had.

My family notices these energy rifts and has taken to asking what's wrong. I'm not interacting with too many other people so it's not much of an issue. Time and space are what I need now. There's a lot of processing, reimagining, and stuff happening. I'm eating and sleeping a lot to keep up the energy needed to find and use my bravery.

Wahoo!

I got the job!

Whew.

Tuesday Highlights

Twig is in the median percentile for both height and weight. This may be the only place he takes the middle of the road.

*He chose* to have his wart frozen off instead of the lengthier option of lotion. He was brave and I was very proud of him.

He has eczema, brought on by lavender oil. Poor kid.

We went out to lunch today to celebrate his bravery. It was a nice time!

Peaceful Waiting

It's 3:30 am, that could be why I'm feeling peaceful. Wood's loud breathing woke me and the side effect was the theme of an intense dream, that I can't recall but only feel slightly, turned my brain on.

Leading up to this moment I've been weepy again. Feeling the tears bubbling at the surface, later becoming a waterfall, with little notice. My emotions are bigger than they have been in a while. I'm not "doing" much, remembering, thinking, acting very well. My intense hyperdrive energy has dwindled to a mere nothing. My heart and soul are trying to catch up with my body and mind - I'm not that person - I will not be that person - I'm beyond burned out - and it's okay!

Reinventing myself is proving a great challenge. It's weird to have few, if any, aspirations.

Still no word on the job. I will be okay either way, that much I know. Something will come along. I will be seen for the goodness in me. I will see it. I'm searching.

Waiting

The birds are chirping, quite loudly. We are dog sitting for our neighbor. Baseball photos and a birthday party today.

I'm patiently waiting to get a job offer or let down for a great job opportunity I interviewed for last week. Trying to be patient, that is. Not knowing is rough. I'm trying to have faith that it will work out as it should.

Next week is my birthday and mothers day. For that I wait for a gift of a fitness tracker, a digital camera or a necklace. My goal is to find some inspiration to live rather than waiting to live. To risk and be brave instead of being bored and boring.

My energy is still rather low so waiting in stillness has a strong appeal. It will shift, as all things do.

Body Fail - Plugging Along

Vacation! Here we are in New Orleans with friends. It's so lovely except my body is freaking out.

Of course my time of the month started and while my skin is much better than it was, it's still a bit upset with itchy dry patches that don't respond to my home made oil-salve. My gall bladder had a tantrum about all of the fried food we've been enjoying (its still got me on notice), I've got a pretty rash along my bra-line as well as where my thighs rub together and I've got a hemorrhoid.

But wait, there's more!

I fully expected the plantar fasciitis to be in full gear and it is. What I didn't expect was that I'd sprain my ankle on the same foot a week and a half before our walking trip. In addition to that pain, my legs/feet are swelling like balloons from the heat and all the walking we've been doing. I got some compression socks to help but it doesn't much. My left knee, the one with torn cartilage, started clicking with every step earlier and I just woke to hunger pains and what I think may be a bug bite on my Achilles. Itchy & Ouchie.

Our friends are the best. I fel like I'm complaining and that I've slowed the group down. The feel badly that I'm in such discomfort - and they only know about my foot/ankle. Despite all of it, it's lovely to be on vacation. I'll post a bit of our activities another time. My 4am hunger pangs have been addressed and I think, now that it's almost 5am, it's time to go back to sleep.