A Whole Lot Of Little Nothings
I went to see my physician this week to talk to her about my meds since I can't afford a psychiatrist. As it turns out she's a much better psychiatrist than that idiot "real" psychiatrist I saw last fall was. What do I think makes a good psychiatrist?
She didn't think coming off of both my medications at once was a good idea. She was considering my family history of mental health issues and thinks that in my case remaining medicated at all times at least with the antidepressant is the best thing for my health. I agree with her but told her my concerns about the weight, long term effects of taking the same meds, and my desperate desire to get the weight down. She does think that Paxil may be partly responsible for my ongoing weight gain in spite of exercise and healthier eating in the past year. Paxil is notorious for it. For Paxil to be effective I had to raise it up to 40mg (doesn't sound like much but I started at 10mg) and the more you take the worse the tendency to gain weight (unrelated to eating or exercise habits).
I'm coming off the Paxil, kids.
The brain shocks are really unpleasant but I'm already weaned back down to 10 mg and I've had enough.
You know what I just did? I just deleted one big invitation to trouble.
That reminds me, I have a post I wrote about parenting that is percolating for a few days so I can come back and make sure it doesn't catch my hair on fire. See how I'm trying not to invite trouble? I'm so impressed with myself.
Two days ago I had the best talk with Max. We actually have lots of good talks these days which is one of the reasons I am loving the age of nine on him. He told me he might want to become an art critic. Totally out of the blue. I love it when he says stuff like this. So we had a big discussion about how he critiques his classmates art and I tried to ascertain if he's being mean about it or being helpful. Apparently he is trying to give helpful comments. One girl took a suggestion of his and changed her drawing which he tells me was much improved and he complimented her on the finished results.
Sometimes nine year olds are more sophisticated than I thought they could be. Weren't we raising our fists, just yesterday, up at the atmosphere in chagrin at the immature and frustrating antics of six year olds?
No, wait, we were doing that last year at the whole eight year old phase. I was about to say that I finally see what people mean when they claim their children are just growing up in the blink of an eye. "It all goes by so fast, so hang onto every moment...(implied sigh of nostalgia)."
Are you kidding me?! Oh man, if I hung onto every minute of Max's childhood someone would be digging my grave as we speak.
But this nine year old phase is so cool. I'll bet this is all so I'll finally, FINALLY, start thinking I can handle being a parent and I'll finally relax a little and then BAM!
He'll be a teenager shouting from a car full of adolescents at fat women riding their bicycles.
I know I keep saying I'll probably stop blogging and I keep telling myself that it's time to return to the days when I kept all my crazy more contained and private in a thousand feverishly scrawled paper journals, and I keep asking myself why I now find the prospect of doing so much more difficult. It can be so difficult sometimes, leaving myself open to commentary, and there's so much it seems I shouldn't say out loud. There are all the times I've gotten myself in social hot water- so why is the thought of privately journaling so unappealing to me now?
Do I require an audience to work my thoughts out now?
No. The simple truth is that whether or not I write on my blog I will have to write all this stuff somewhere. I have been doing it consistently for precisely 30 years. Nearly every day except for one dry spell. Often times I would write a few entries a day. All of this to keep more sane, sometimes to actually keep myself alive (hard to kill yourself when you're engaged in a perpetual self-pep-talk with pen and paper), and just to clear my head which fills up insanely fast with words and thoughts and so much clutter.
You know those ticker tapes that keep track of the stock market with a flow of minute incessant information flowing? That's my brain. Some people are made that way. It's very uncomfortable and the only relief is to empty the budget.
While I don't love always being so vulnerable, the blessing of putting all this personal journal style writing out there is that it makes it feel less like I'm talking to myself. The big cliche of the mentally ill and the constant joke is that we talk to ourselves out loud. In my case that has actually been true. Writing the blog feels normalizing. So, paying the price continues to be worth it. Feeling lonely is an occupational hazard of people like me and anything to reduce the sensation is a bonus.
That's why I do it even though about once a month I swear I'll stop soon.
I have a recipe to put on Stitch and Boots but I can't find my notes on it. So I keep trying to find the time to make it again. Very frustrating. I've been on the run all week. Working very hard to get my exercise in. Every day. It's a recipe for white bean salad with dandelion greens.
This past weekend the friend with whom I had a huge falling out last fall got in touch to give me some information she thought I might be able to use. We had a brief exchange of messages in which it was revealed that we have both forgiven each other and meant each other no ill. Now, in spite of my enjoyment in joking about my local enemies, I really had forgiven her many months ago and didn't expect to be forgiven myself. I let it go and hoped that the kind thoughts I put out there into the ether about her and her family would somehow be enough.
What I'm trying to say is that the power of forgiveness can't be underestimated and I feel so much better now knowing that the forgiveness is mutual.
Onwards shoveling soldier...
(That's just what popped into my head)
I have been suppressing more than just a parenting topic. I have also been dying to write about doing sports/exercise while on the rag*. There are about two men who read my blog though and I'm reluctant to gross them out. As much as women supposedly talk about everything with each other, this is still a pretty shady topic. I find it way more interesting than discussing chocolate. I have curiosity because I don't do Kung Fu while on the rag and it brings up many questions for me about what other women do. Not questions I need to answer for myself, just curiosity I would like to have sated about other women's experiences and thoughts.
That's all I'm going to say. For now. On that topic which most people would prefer to avoid.
Now it's really time to do some dishes and make that bean salad so I can post it on Stitch.
My hope is that tonight I can do work on book notes. (First of all I've lost the whole beginning I wrote, aside from the part I posted here, and Thank Godlington I did that! Secondly, I'm trying to work on character profiles, notes on energy use for the future, environmental questions to answer, and trying to outline the political situation. It won't exactly be a political book but these are details that, while you may not need to spell them out explicitly, inform a story from the ground up and if you don't know what structure is holding a fictional society together- readers will feel it.) That didn't need to be in parentheticals. I want to get into the heart of the writing but when I was working on it before I felt the lack of these details and not knowing the answers to a bunch of questions made it difficult to narrate actions because some character motivations were unclear.
Alright. If I don't get to write tonight I'll make time over the weekend. I'll put in some good hours. I tried doing that last weekend and ended up getting distracted by rereading Jane Doe. That story needs such an enormous rewrite** and yet I keep finding more parts of it that I LOVEm that are strong, and it confuses me to have one book almost finished in first draft form while working on another one. So why not finish Jane Doe first?
Because it is a draining difficult story to tell, that's why. That was the most intense writing I've ever done in my life. Nothing else can be going on while I do it.
The romance author Jill Shalvis (whose books I've never read) seems to write several books at once. I'm not quite sure how she does it. She mentions her frenetic writing on ADD. Why can't my mental illness make me write that productively?***
What was I saying about going and making food?
And now Pippa is using about four different meows to get my attention and breaking into her customary loud purring when I look at her. She may be out of food.
Time to tend the homestead!
*"on your PERIOD" to you gentler more goddess-y women.
**That's an understatement. Most books need several rewrites. This one hasn't had it's first overhaul though and I think that will be the biggest rewrite.
***Ah. We're into triple footnotes now. The blogs are easier to write than books so if any smart ass out there was going to point out that I am now writing 3 blogs- that's NOT the same as writing three books at once. Not at all.
- Doesn't rush you.
- Makes correlation between your physical and mental health.
- Considers how different medications may be affecting your body.
- Listens to what you're saying.
- Takes things slowly, such as prescribing new meds or changing old ones.
- Doesn't make you feel like a lowly diseased scab of a human being.
She didn't think coming off of both my medications at once was a good idea. She was considering my family history of mental health issues and thinks that in my case remaining medicated at all times at least with the antidepressant is the best thing for my health. I agree with her but told her my concerns about the weight, long term effects of taking the same meds, and my desperate desire to get the weight down. She does think that Paxil may be partly responsible for my ongoing weight gain in spite of exercise and healthier eating in the past year. Paxil is notorious for it. For Paxil to be effective I had to raise it up to 40mg (doesn't sound like much but I started at 10mg) and the more you take the worse the tendency to gain weight (unrelated to eating or exercise habits).
I'm coming off the Paxil, kids.
The brain shocks are really unpleasant but I'm already weaned back down to 10 mg and I've had enough.
You know what I just did? I just deleted one big invitation to trouble.
That reminds me, I have a post I wrote about parenting that is percolating for a few days so I can come back and make sure it doesn't catch my hair on fire. See how I'm trying not to invite trouble? I'm so impressed with myself.
Two days ago I had the best talk with Max. We actually have lots of good talks these days which is one of the reasons I am loving the age of nine on him. He told me he might want to become an art critic. Totally out of the blue. I love it when he says stuff like this. So we had a big discussion about how he critiques his classmates art and I tried to ascertain if he's being mean about it or being helpful. Apparently he is trying to give helpful comments. One girl took a suggestion of his and changed her drawing which he tells me was much improved and he complimented her on the finished results.
Sometimes nine year olds are more sophisticated than I thought they could be. Weren't we raising our fists, just yesterday, up at the atmosphere in chagrin at the immature and frustrating antics of six year olds?
No, wait, we were doing that last year at the whole eight year old phase. I was about to say that I finally see what people mean when they claim their children are just growing up in the blink of an eye. "It all goes by so fast, so hang onto every moment...(implied sigh of nostalgia)."
Are you kidding me?! Oh man, if I hung onto every minute of Max's childhood someone would be digging my grave as we speak.
But this nine year old phase is so cool. I'll bet this is all so I'll finally, FINALLY, start thinking I can handle being a parent and I'll finally relax a little and then BAM!
He'll be a teenager shouting from a car full of adolescents at fat women riding their bicycles.
I know I keep saying I'll probably stop blogging and I keep telling myself that it's time to return to the days when I kept all my crazy more contained and private in a thousand feverishly scrawled paper journals, and I keep asking myself why I now find the prospect of doing so much more difficult. It can be so difficult sometimes, leaving myself open to commentary, and there's so much it seems I shouldn't say out loud. There are all the times I've gotten myself in social hot water- so why is the thought of privately journaling so unappealing to me now?
Do I require an audience to work my thoughts out now?
Have I become a MEGALOMANIAC?
No. The simple truth is that whether or not I write on my blog I will have to write all this stuff somewhere. I have been doing it consistently for precisely 30 years. Nearly every day except for one dry spell. Often times I would write a few entries a day. All of this to keep more sane, sometimes to actually keep myself alive (hard to kill yourself when you're engaged in a perpetual self-pep-talk with pen and paper), and just to clear my head which fills up insanely fast with words and thoughts and so much clutter.
You know those ticker tapes that keep track of the stock market with a flow of minute incessant information flowing? That's my brain. Some people are made that way. It's very uncomfortable and the only relief is to empty the budget.
While I don't love always being so vulnerable, the blessing of putting all this personal journal style writing out there is that it makes it feel less like I'm talking to myself. The big cliche of the mentally ill and the constant joke is that we talk to ourselves out loud. In my case that has actually been true. Writing the blog feels normalizing. So, paying the price continues to be worth it. Feeling lonely is an occupational hazard of people like me and anything to reduce the sensation is a bonus.
That's why I do it even though about once a month I swear I'll stop soon.
I have a recipe to put on Stitch and Boots but I can't find my notes on it. So I keep trying to find the time to make it again. Very frustrating. I've been on the run all week. Working very hard to get my exercise in. Every day. It's a recipe for white bean salad with dandelion greens.
This past weekend the friend with whom I had a huge falling out last fall got in touch to give me some information she thought I might be able to use. We had a brief exchange of messages in which it was revealed that we have both forgiven each other and meant each other no ill. Now, in spite of my enjoyment in joking about my local enemies, I really had forgiven her many months ago and didn't expect to be forgiven myself. I let it go and hoped that the kind thoughts I put out there into the ether about her and her family would somehow be enough.
What I'm trying to say is that the power of forgiveness can't be underestimated and I feel so much better now knowing that the forgiveness is mutual.
Onwards shoveling soldier...
(That's just what popped into my head)
I have been suppressing more than just a parenting topic. I have also been dying to write about doing sports/exercise while on the rag*. There are about two men who read my blog though and I'm reluctant to gross them out. As much as women supposedly talk about everything with each other, this is still a pretty shady topic. I find it way more interesting than discussing chocolate. I have curiosity because I don't do Kung Fu while on the rag and it brings up many questions for me about what other women do. Not questions I need to answer for myself, just curiosity I would like to have sated about other women's experiences and thoughts.
That's all I'm going to say. For now. On that topic which most people would prefer to avoid.
Now it's really time to do some dishes and make that bean salad so I can post it on Stitch.
My hope is that tonight I can do work on book notes. (First of all I've lost the whole beginning I wrote, aside from the part I posted here, and Thank Godlington I did that! Secondly, I'm trying to work on character profiles, notes on energy use for the future, environmental questions to answer, and trying to outline the political situation. It won't exactly be a political book but these are details that, while you may not need to spell them out explicitly, inform a story from the ground up and if you don't know what structure is holding a fictional society together- readers will feel it.) That didn't need to be in parentheticals. I want to get into the heart of the writing but when I was working on it before I felt the lack of these details and not knowing the answers to a bunch of questions made it difficult to narrate actions because some character motivations were unclear.
Alright. If I don't get to write tonight I'll make time over the weekend. I'll put in some good hours. I tried doing that last weekend and ended up getting distracted by rereading Jane Doe. That story needs such an enormous rewrite** and yet I keep finding more parts of it that I LOVEm that are strong, and it confuses me to have one book almost finished in first draft form while working on another one. So why not finish Jane Doe first?
Because it is a draining difficult story to tell, that's why. That was the most intense writing I've ever done in my life. Nothing else can be going on while I do it.
The romance author Jill Shalvis (whose books I've never read) seems to write several books at once. I'm not quite sure how she does it. She mentions her frenetic writing on ADD. Why can't my mental illness make me write that productively?***
What was I saying about going and making food?
And now Pippa is using about four different meows to get my attention and breaking into her customary loud purring when I look at her. She may be out of food.
Time to tend the homestead!
*"on your PERIOD" to you gentler more goddess-y women.
**That's an understatement. Most books need several rewrites. This one hasn't had it's first overhaul though and I think that will be the biggest rewrite.
***Ah. We're into triple footnotes now. The blogs are easier to write than books so if any smart ass out there was going to point out that I am now writing 3 blogs- that's NOT the same as writing three books at once. Not at all.
Comments (8)
It's funny.....I've never been able to keep up a journal for more than a few entries but the relief I get from blogging is inestimable. Sometimes I try to figure it out...is ego involved? I don't know....there's just something about telling someone else (even if no one actually reads) that brings me ease.
Posted by The Sandwich LIfe | May 27, 2010 4:28 PM
Posted on May 27, 2010 16:28
I gotta say, I HATE the phrase "on the rag" or "Aunt Flo" or any of those other euphemisms! They totally make me cringe. And I'm also SO not a goddess woman type. In fact, I find the whole institution of monthly periods irritating and would just stay on birth control permanently if I could. There. I said it!
Posted by EmmaC | May 27, 2010 4:57 PM
Posted on May 27, 2010 16:57
I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes blogging for the same reason I do Sandwich Life.
Emma- I dislike most of the euphemisms too but I'm not even sure what isn't a euphemism... is the real and scientific way to say it: "I'm menstruating"? I guess that would be it. I suppose "period" is decent. I have always resented having one, however, which is why the "rag" expression appealed to me. It sounds mean which is how it makes me feel. Yeah, I'm already so messed up I really think now is as good a time as any to bring on the menopause. (I'm considerably older than you and while I'm still on the young side for menopause, I'm close enough that I wish I could just get it over with.)
Posted by Angelina | May 27, 2010 7:01 PM
Posted on May 27, 2010 19:01
It's wonderful that you have a psychiatrist that cares. It truly makes a difference from one that sees you for 5 minutes every few months and says, basically, "more or less meds?, here's your script, that'll be $100", and listens instead. I've found it's made a huge difference in my own recovery and stability to feel like she cares about me and not just my money.
As for exercise and periods (I don't use a rag, I use a cup!) I always feel more sluggish in general. My period has always been accompanied by the joys of migraines, endometriosis, stomach troubles, and general malaise. I am a derby skater so as long as I don't have a migraine, I just have to motivate myself to get there and suck it up. I do hear my teammates complain about periods a lot, and sometimes skate off the floor because they feel so awful.
Maybe we are more open because it's (mostly) women and you are doing a mixed-sex sport? I think it feels a little better just being able to say "hey, I feel like shit!" and having commisseration with that.
Posted by Laura | May 28, 2010 7:00 AM
Posted on May 28, 2010 07:00
Laura- well that's the joke though, I don't have a psychiatrist, she's my regular doctor. I can't afford a real psychiatrist. I used up a lot of our resources last fall to see one and he was a jerk and then I couldn't afford to find a new one. People often have the idea that general practitioners don't know what they're doing with psyche meds and they're just handing out prescriptions like gum. Mine really knows her stuff and is very cautious and also, in spite of having a very packed practice, she never ever rushes me. But it only costs half the price to see her for that if I pay cash.
But yeah, it's really important to feel like whoever you're trusting your mental health care too is trustworthy and knowledgeable.
Any men who happen to be reading comments, avert eyes and move on at this point!
Derby skating! That's a rough sport! Right, so this is totally what makes me curious. I don't use anything for my period that must be used internally. Tampons have always hurt, no matter the size, the company, the design. Hurt. And eventually I just realized that I prefer not to have internal help with that. So, I am on the rag almost literally. I am totally happy with this arrangement and am not seeking a change. However, in Kung Fu we do a lot of kicking and more importantly: self defense exercises where you get really up close and personal with other people. Mostly men. I am excessively uncomfortable being up close and personal with people anyway, all the time, but when I'm on my period it feels really wrong.
My philosophy has always been that being on one's period is a time for keeping the body quiet, treading gently, and basically lying low. Not out of shame or anything, but out of respect. The body is cleansing itself and it feels like such a personal thing. So I got to wondering if any other women feel as I do who play sports. I am imagining that most women just power through, like you say you try to do.
Totally interesting to me! Thanks for sharing your own experience with that.
Posted by angelina | May 28, 2010 7:46 AM
Posted on May 28, 2010 07:46
I am loving this 9 year old phase too. They are so much more grown up and can converse on a whole different level than before - however, I am already starting to see the signs of teenager. (rolls his eyes at me sometimes, drags his feet when its time to do chores etc...) And they do grow way too fast.
Posted by Karmyn R | May 28, 2010 12:44 PM
Posted on May 28, 2010 12:44
I find it incredibly fascinating how we are all so different in our feelings about our fabulous reproductive capabilities, yet share the female body....very cool how we can do that! I am a goddess loving chic who feels completely robbed from a hysterectomy at age 26. I'm thankful I still have my ovaries which gives me a strong connection to the earth and moon.
....not the most shared opinion but that's okay, I can take the eye rolling and ughs :)
Posted by Kathy | May 28, 2010 6:57 PM
Posted on May 28, 2010 18:57
But Kathy- what were you robbed of? You had three kids and have told me many times that if you had planned you would not have planned on more but rather fewer. (I know what a family woman you are and how truly you love each one of your kids, you know that!) but so what did the hysterectomy rob you of? While I ask this question because to me the only reason to want your reproductive organs in working order is to have children, I must point out to you that I think you're not at all unusual in your appreciation for your ovaries and your reproductive parts. I have known only one woman (amongst a few) who's had a hysterectomy who did not feel a profound sense of loss. I know I would be like her, but most women, I believe, feel just as you do. I simply don't understand it.
I don't disdain the goddess-lovingness of you or my other dear friends who are deeply connected to their womanhood. Though I admit that it is irresistible to make fun of at times as this is how my mom was and I believe that I was often a disappointment to her in my rather clod-hopping pragmatic unmagical way of viewing the world. In spite of my not being godess-y, it's perhaps just a case of me calling it something different because god and goddess are the same to me and I believe in no deities. I believe most of the goddess-y things that you and Riana do, but I dislike the word itself.
I would give a lot to stop menstruating. I don't feel I need a uterus to connect with nature and I don't believe that a woman is any less a woman without one. In some ways I think she's enhanced, she's open for other things, and more powerful than those who still are answering to theirs.
Karmyn- Hi! I forgot that your oldest is the same age as Max. I'm glad you're enjoying this age too. I know what you mean about the teenage years creeping in. Wouldn't it be really funny if we got there and it turned out not to be a nightmare but fascinating and fun in it's own way? This is what I'm hoping for while I prepare for the worst.
Posted by Angelina | May 28, 2010 8:17 PM
Posted on May 28, 2010 20:17