Good thing: homemade salsa from Z.
Horrible thing: SPICY HOT homemade salsa from Z.
"Disappointed" doesn't even scratch the surface.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Monday, October 19, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
On Illness
I have been living with Crohn's Disease since 1995. Most of the time it is just an annoyance. This summer, however, I have been under siege. I've been sicker than I have been in the last 10 years, and I'm just now starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Chronic illness is an interesting thing. It's easy to be obsessed with it, and spend all of your time and energy meditating on the ways that your body is betraying you. Or, you can stick your head in the sand and just deal with the day-to-day annoyances (which is my specialty).
One of the ways that I have stuck my head in the sand for all this time is to think that I don't REALLY have Crohn's. Perhaps I just have IBS. Or, perhaps I just eat the wrong things. Or, I'm just lazy and fat and that's why I'm always exhausted and in pain. Plus, I don't fit the profile of the normal Crohn's patient: in other words, rail-thin. I can have a terrible, 3-month flare like I am now and barely lose any weight at all. And, that's even with not eating much.
It is finally beginning to sink into my thick skull that I am Not Well.
I had an appointment with a Colo-Rectal surgeon yesterday. It went well, all things considered, and I am going to have at least one Seton drain installed on 11/2. I say "at least one" because it turns out that I have two fistulas right next to each other. I thought that it was just one big one. Double the fun! And, I am most likely going to give Remicade another shot to see if we can keep the fistulas from coming back in other places. Being hooked up to an IV for 3 hours every 8 weeks isn't something that I can ignore, nor can I ignore the unfortunate placement of two drains.
These last months have been a nightmare. I started feeling lousy in July, and chalked it up to the heat and stress. August and September were almost completely lost to me. All I did was go to work (and poorly, might I add) and sleep. I simply couldn't function. No laundry, no cooking, no cleaning, no reading, nothing. H has been an angel and has taken excellent care of me even when I was incredibly difficult. He has been more stymied by this than I have, because while he has the same disease, it manifests itself completely differently in both of us. He has watched over me and loved me and held us together when I couldn't.
I need to count my blessings every day that we have great insurance. I also need to be grateful that we have access to some of the best medical care in the country and these intelligent, devoted people are working hard to help me function. H and I joke often that if we had been born early in the 20th century we would probably both be dead by now. Sad, but true.
So, if you are ever in need, go to Vanderbilt and get the team of Dr. Christopher Lind, Dr. Roberta Muldoon, and Dr. Nanette Dendy on your side. They will listen to you and respect you and do everything that they can to fix you. And, they will fix me. God willing.
And, as one last thought on this, Every American deserves the same level of care that we receive. H and I are incredibly lucky in that he works for the State and the insurance is some of the best in the country. But, we would be in extraordinarily bad shape, or homeless, if we didn't have the insurance. My heart breaks for anyone that has to even think about how they will pay for medical care. End of political rant.
Chronic illness is an interesting thing. It's easy to be obsessed with it, and spend all of your time and energy meditating on the ways that your body is betraying you. Or, you can stick your head in the sand and just deal with the day-to-day annoyances (which is my specialty).
One of the ways that I have stuck my head in the sand for all this time is to think that I don't REALLY have Crohn's. Perhaps I just have IBS. Or, perhaps I just eat the wrong things. Or, I'm just lazy and fat and that's why I'm always exhausted and in pain. Plus, I don't fit the profile of the normal Crohn's patient: in other words, rail-thin. I can have a terrible, 3-month flare like I am now and barely lose any weight at all. And, that's even with not eating much.
It is finally beginning to sink into my thick skull that I am Not Well.
I had an appointment with a Colo-Rectal surgeon yesterday. It went well, all things considered, and I am going to have at least one Seton drain installed on 11/2. I say "at least one" because it turns out that I have two fistulas right next to each other. I thought that it was just one big one. Double the fun! And, I am most likely going to give Remicade another shot to see if we can keep the fistulas from coming back in other places. Being hooked up to an IV for 3 hours every 8 weeks isn't something that I can ignore, nor can I ignore the unfortunate placement of two drains.
These last months have been a nightmare. I started feeling lousy in July, and chalked it up to the heat and stress. August and September were almost completely lost to me. All I did was go to work (and poorly, might I add) and sleep. I simply couldn't function. No laundry, no cooking, no cleaning, no reading, nothing. H has been an angel and has taken excellent care of me even when I was incredibly difficult. He has been more stymied by this than I have, because while he has the same disease, it manifests itself completely differently in both of us. He has watched over me and loved me and held us together when I couldn't.
I need to count my blessings every day that we have great insurance. I also need to be grateful that we have access to some of the best medical care in the country and these intelligent, devoted people are working hard to help me function. H and I joke often that if we had been born early in the 20th century we would probably both be dead by now. Sad, but true.
So, if you are ever in need, go to Vanderbilt and get the team of Dr. Christopher Lind, Dr. Roberta Muldoon, and Dr. Nanette Dendy on your side. They will listen to you and respect you and do everything that they can to fix you. And, they will fix me. God willing.
And, as one last thought on this, Every American deserves the same level of care that we receive. H and I are incredibly lucky in that he works for the State and the insurance is some of the best in the country. But, we would be in extraordinarily bad shape, or homeless, if we didn't have the insurance. My heart breaks for anyone that has to even think about how they will pay for medical care. End of political rant.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Overcast
Adama: What do you hear?
Starbuck: Nothing but the rain.
Rain is good. It makes grass green and flowers grow. But, the rain in my head isn't good.
I forced myself to get out of bed this morning, which is a good start. I should be working on cleaning the house, as the mess is starting to bug me, but I can't seem to get it together. I always do this to myself. I plan an enormously productive day the night before and then get nothing done. Then, I freak out because I'm "behind" when I didn't really need to accomplish the enormously aggressive list of stuff in the first place.
It would make sense for me to clean when I think about it, usually late at night. But, I don't want to be up doing stuff like that and have a harder time than usual getting up the next morning. Mornings are a nightmare as it is. And, H is starting to get so much better about going to sleep at a reasonable hour that I don't want to make noise and keep him up. I'm very thankful that I only close two nights in April so that I can get things done after I get home from work.
I also need to get in the habit of doing little bits of cleaning every day. That way, I won't feel like I'm burning an entire day off and I won't freak out because I have a list of things to do that I will never finish.
I just can't seem to get anything done lately. I feel like I'm going through the motions and am only getting the bare minimums done in order to keep the house running (like emptying the dishwasher and ironing a few shirts). I'm not sure why this is happening, as I'm not particularly upset or stressed, but there it is. I am having a hard time functioning. Again.
I'm going to go back to bed for a while. Hopefully, the rain outside will be stronger than the rain inside.
Starbuck: Nothing but the rain.
Rain is good. It makes grass green and flowers grow. But, the rain in my head isn't good.
I forced myself to get out of bed this morning, which is a good start. I should be working on cleaning the house, as the mess is starting to bug me, but I can't seem to get it together. I always do this to myself. I plan an enormously productive day the night before and then get nothing done. Then, I freak out because I'm "behind" when I didn't really need to accomplish the enormously aggressive list of stuff in the first place.
It would make sense for me to clean when I think about it, usually late at night. But, I don't want to be up doing stuff like that and have a harder time than usual getting up the next morning. Mornings are a nightmare as it is. And, H is starting to get so much better about going to sleep at a reasonable hour that I don't want to make noise and keep him up. I'm very thankful that I only close two nights in April so that I can get things done after I get home from work.
I also need to get in the habit of doing little bits of cleaning every day. That way, I won't feel like I'm burning an entire day off and I won't freak out because I have a list of things to do that I will never finish.
I just can't seem to get anything done lately. I feel like I'm going through the motions and am only getting the bare minimums done in order to keep the house running (like emptying the dishwasher and ironing a few shirts). I'm not sure why this is happening, as I'm not particularly upset or stressed, but there it is. I am having a hard time functioning. Again.
I'm going to go back to bed for a while. Hopefully, the rain outside will be stronger than the rain inside.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Slipping
I'm afraid that the gator is back. I'm starting to see little ripples in the water. Not sure if it's a strong breeze or if there is something lurking under the surface.
I've been so tired and not sleeping well at all. I don't think the problem is physical. I've been eating much better, getting more exercise, not drinking as much or as often, and not taking a lot of sleeping meds. In other words, I've been doing everything right. I can't seem to sleep, though. I lie awake for hours, tossing and turning, and eventually crash between 3 and 4. My mind just races. When it's not racing, I'm exhausted but can't sleep anyway.
H has been weaning himself off of some meds, and is in need of more Remicade, so he hasn't been sleeping either. That doesn't help.
So, what's going on? I'm always tired. I've been very short lately. I spend all of my spare time sleeping (or laying around in my pajamas). Am I paranoid or just very busy and worn out?
The sad thing is that all is well. H is great, we're not completely stressed out, I have lots of social engagements, and work is good. The family is healthy. K is brilliant. Both cats are loving and snuggly. Where's the problem?
I think that it's between my ears.
I've been so tired and not sleeping well at all. I don't think the problem is physical. I've been eating much better, getting more exercise, not drinking as much or as often, and not taking a lot of sleeping meds. In other words, I've been doing everything right. I can't seem to sleep, though. I lie awake for hours, tossing and turning, and eventually crash between 3 and 4. My mind just races. When it's not racing, I'm exhausted but can't sleep anyway.
H has been weaning himself off of some meds, and is in need of more Remicade, so he hasn't been sleeping either. That doesn't help.
So, what's going on? I'm always tired. I've been very short lately. I spend all of my spare time sleeping (or laying around in my pajamas). Am I paranoid or just very busy and worn out?
The sad thing is that all is well. H is great, we're not completely stressed out, I have lots of social engagements, and work is good. The family is healthy. K is brilliant. Both cats are loving and snuggly. Where's the problem?
I think that it's between my ears.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Taking Responsibility
Sometimes, my job makes me sad.
The great majority of the customers that come into our store in the mornings are hard-core alcoholics. Some come in as soon as we open to get their fix. Most have shaky hands. Most buy cheap vodka. All are friendly.
That is ultimately what breaks my heart: they are friendly. I would guess that we probably have as much of a relationship as they do with some members of their families. We talk about the weather, sports, news, travel. We never ask their names. I feel very guilty sometimes that I never ask their names, but that might make it harder for me to deal with. I don't want to personalize them more than "Danfield's guy" or "gin guy" or "horse woman." There is "pretty blueberry girl" that is only 23 and drinks Smirnoff minis in her car on the way home from work. The one man that we have named is Mr. Boston. He's a transplant from the Northeast, and can change the conversation to something centered around Boston in less than 10 seconds.
There is no state law that dictates how often customers can come in, but we cut people off at two visits per day. So, our regulars know that they need to come in the morning and in the afternoon and that's it. They also buy small bottles. That way, their intake is limited to what they have in front of them.
I wonder if my father went to the same store every day, or if he went to different ones. He drank a fifth of vodka every day or so for many, many years. Did they know him by name, or was he "Gordon's guy?"
Ultimately, it's not our responsibility to worry about them, or even limit their intake. If we weren't there, they would get it from someone else. They can also choose not to drink. But, our business would suffer greatly if we didn't have so many regulars. So, we continue to buy the pints and minis and smile and try not to be heartbroken when we see the same people day in and day out. But, I still wish that people came in only because they wanted to enjoy a drink, not because they needed one.
The great majority of the customers that come into our store in the mornings are hard-core alcoholics. Some come in as soon as we open to get their fix. Most have shaky hands. Most buy cheap vodka. All are friendly.
That is ultimately what breaks my heart: they are friendly. I would guess that we probably have as much of a relationship as they do with some members of their families. We talk about the weather, sports, news, travel. We never ask their names. I feel very guilty sometimes that I never ask their names, but that might make it harder for me to deal with. I don't want to personalize them more than "Danfield's guy" or "gin guy" or "horse woman." There is "pretty blueberry girl" that is only 23 and drinks Smirnoff minis in her car on the way home from work. The one man that we have named is Mr. Boston. He's a transplant from the Northeast, and can change the conversation to something centered around Boston in less than 10 seconds.
There is no state law that dictates how often customers can come in, but we cut people off at two visits per day. So, our regulars know that they need to come in the morning and in the afternoon and that's it. They also buy small bottles. That way, their intake is limited to what they have in front of them.
I wonder if my father went to the same store every day, or if he went to different ones. He drank a fifth of vodka every day or so for many, many years. Did they know him by name, or was he "Gordon's guy?"
Ultimately, it's not our responsibility to worry about them, or even limit their intake. If we weren't there, they would get it from someone else. They can also choose not to drink. But, our business would suffer greatly if we didn't have so many regulars. So, we continue to buy the pints and minis and smile and try not to be heartbroken when we see the same people day in and day out. But, I still wish that people came in only because they wanted to enjoy a drink, not because they needed one.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Office
I can't stand to go in there.
One of the few criteria that I had for selecting a house was that I wanted an office on the first floor. I thought that I was going to be working at home for the indefinite future, and I wanted the office downstairs so that I had easy access to the kitchen and to outside. We were lucky enough to find a model that had a "sunroom" on the first floor that we turned into an office for me. It is lined with bookshelves and has a lovely comfortable desk and chair.
I haven't worked in there since October, and I haven't spent more than 10 minutes in there at a time at all. But, it has become an easy dumping ground for books, papers, bills, and anything that needs organizations. It is a disaster area, and it makes my blood pressure shoot up just looking in there. I just went in to use the printer and I was uneasy sitting at the desk.
It desperately needs to be cleaned out, but I can't stand it. It's embarrassing to look at, but it makes me so sad to be in there. I could probably throw out half of the stuff that is in there. It's such a shame, because it is a beautiful room, but I'm not ready for that yet.
I've spent a fair amount of time trying to understand why it upsets me so much to go in there. I think that perhaps it's the only physical manifestation that I have of how much my life has changed. When you leave a job in an office, you walk away and never go back. I can't do that in this case... in fact, I have to look at it every day.
I did think that we should convert the room into something else. But, that would mean spending some kind of money on furniture and we certainly can't do that right now. What else would we do with it? Maybe the best idea would be to get a curtain for the door (it has glass panels) so that I can't see in there easily.
Or, does that mean that I'm just hiding from the problem?
One of the few criteria that I had for selecting a house was that I wanted an office on the first floor. I thought that I was going to be working at home for the indefinite future, and I wanted the office downstairs so that I had easy access to the kitchen and to outside. We were lucky enough to find a model that had a "sunroom" on the first floor that we turned into an office for me. It is lined with bookshelves and has a lovely comfortable desk and chair.
I haven't worked in there since October, and I haven't spent more than 10 minutes in there at a time at all. But, it has become an easy dumping ground for books, papers, bills, and anything that needs organizations. It is a disaster area, and it makes my blood pressure shoot up just looking in there. I just went in to use the printer and I was uneasy sitting at the desk.
It desperately needs to be cleaned out, but I can't stand it. It's embarrassing to look at, but it makes me so sad to be in there. I could probably throw out half of the stuff that is in there. It's such a shame, because it is a beautiful room, but I'm not ready for that yet.
I've spent a fair amount of time trying to understand why it upsets me so much to go in there. I think that perhaps it's the only physical manifestation that I have of how much my life has changed. When you leave a job in an office, you walk away and never go back. I can't do that in this case... in fact, I have to look at it every day.
I did think that we should convert the room into something else. But, that would mean spending some kind of money on furniture and we certainly can't do that right now. What else would we do with it? Maybe the best idea would be to get a curtain for the door (it has glass panels) so that I can't see in there easily.
Or, does that mean that I'm just hiding from the problem?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Better Living Through Chemistry
Today, I felt normal.
Well, almost normal. I still have this rotten stinkin' cold, but other than that, mentally normal.
This is the first time in as long as I can remember that I had a day off and I accomplished (almost) everything that I wanted to do. The fact that I wanted to do ANYTHING other than sleep all day is huge in and of itself. I even got up earlier than I had intended. And, I was showered by 12:30!
I think that this victory can be attributed to a few things: the love of a wonderful man, better meds, and virtually no stress. H has been so incredibly patient and loving with me, and I can't begin to express how grateful I am for him. I knew that Lexapro works much better for me than Effexor, but it has taken a while for it to really kick in. And, we completely underestimate how much stress wreaks havoc on our bodies and minds.
I didn't get in everything that I wanted to accomplish, but it was still a huge step for me.
I feel like a useful person again. I can't describe how good that feels.
Well, almost normal. I still have this rotten stinkin' cold, but other than that, mentally normal.
This is the first time in as long as I can remember that I had a day off and I accomplished (almost) everything that I wanted to do. The fact that I wanted to do ANYTHING other than sleep all day is huge in and of itself. I even got up earlier than I had intended. And, I was showered by 12:30!
I think that this victory can be attributed to a few things: the love of a wonderful man, better meds, and virtually no stress. H has been so incredibly patient and loving with me, and I can't begin to express how grateful I am for him. I knew that Lexapro works much better for me than Effexor, but it has taken a while for it to really kick in. And, we completely underestimate how much stress wreaks havoc on our bodies and minds.
I didn't get in everything that I wanted to accomplish, but it was still a huge step for me.
I feel like a useful person again. I can't describe how good that feels.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Knocked Out
I'm exhausted. I have done practically nothing for the last two days but read and sleep. I know that this is one of the first signs of depression, but I don't feel depressed. I'm justifying the exhaustion by my lack of sleep over the weekend. A few glasses of wine + hard-core snorers = only a few interrupted hours each night.
I need to:
I need to:
- Get the kitchen cleaned up.
- Figure out what to do with the butternut squash that I bought.
- Get my suitcase put away.
- Pay the rest of the bills.
- Start some laundry, especially the shirts that I'll need for the next three days.
- Figure out what we're doing for the Halloween party next week.
- Plant those fracking trees.
- Trim the ginormous shrubs in the front yard so we can see the Halloween hijinks.
- Play on the internet.
- Check Facebook every 3 minutes.
- Read.
- Take a shower.
- Have a snack.
- Go get the mail... maybe.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Seven Years
Seven years ago today, I was in my nasty cubicle at Chain #3 getting ready for our weekly merchandising meeting (in other words, flogging). As usual, I pulled up the Chicago Tribune to see what was going on in the civilized world. The headline at that time was that a plane hit the WTC but it was thought to be a small plane and an accident. Over the course of the next half hour, the second plane hit, and then the Pentagon was hit shortly after that.
H was working in DC at the time. He was on his way in to the firm during the Pentagon attack, and rose out of the Metro to see the billowing clouds of smoke across the river. His office building was directly in between the White House and the Capitol on Pennsylvania Avenue, so I was in a state of sheer terror until he called me later in the morning. His brother, who lived 3 blocks away from the WTC and worked on Wall Street at the time, was also fine (but couldn't get into his apartment without the National Guard for 6 months).
I have never been so frightened in my entire life. I have also never been so horrified as I was in the weeks immediately following the attacks. How do people in war zones function? Or, people that have had children abducted or loved ones murdered? I pray that I will never find out.
H was working in DC at the time. He was on his way in to the firm during the Pentagon attack, and rose out of the Metro to see the billowing clouds of smoke across the river. His office building was directly in between the White House and the Capitol on Pennsylvania Avenue, so I was in a state of sheer terror until he called me later in the morning. His brother, who lived 3 blocks away from the WTC and worked on Wall Street at the time, was also fine (but couldn't get into his apartment without the National Guard for 6 months).
I have never been so frightened in my entire life. I have also never been so horrified as I was in the weeks immediately following the attacks. How do people in war zones function? Or, people that have had children abducted or loved ones murdered? I pray that I will never find out.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Disasters
Boy, do we have it good. So good, in fact, that I feel even guiltier about having to carry a sharp stick all of the time. I could have lost my beloved husband to cancer like Laurie. Or, my baby could have been born at 26 weeks like Kari. Or, my sister could have been in a plane crash that burned 80% of her body like C Jane.
I need to count my blessings and get my head out of my ass.
I need to count my blessings and get my head out of my ass.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I Think It's Working
The Lexapro seems to be working. I don't feel remotely as desperate as I have, and can actually get up in the morning and function. I still crash in the afternoon, though. It doesn't seem to mess with my sleep too much. I've been having problems over the last few nights, but I think that's more caffeine related than anything else.
I feel so relieved, but I'm still waiting for the other Chaco to drop. Now, I just have to start taking my 6-MP regularly again to get the Crohn's under control...
I feel so relieved, but I'm still waiting for the other Chaco to drop. Now, I just have to start taking my 6-MP regularly again to get the Crohn's under control...
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Tough
It has been a rough few weeks. I've been traveling, adjusting medicine, and trying not to stay in bed all day.
I was shocked to hear H say last night that he now fully understands. Apparently, when I was in Atlanta, he had his own killer case of gators and missed work because of it. When he wasn't missing work, he went out to the car to lay down. I feel horrible that he has gone though that. He's never really been depressed, and doesn't take antidepressants, but in a way I'm relieved because now he says that he understands.
It's easy to get mad when you come home from work and find your spouse still in bed, exactly where you left them 11 hours earlier. You want to just tell them to take a shower and snap the hell out of it and move on. Depression is weakness, you know. But, it's not that easy. And now he gets it. I should be grateful but it still makes me sad. And no, I haven't showered yet today but I'm feeling okay.
I was shocked to hear H say last night that he now fully understands. Apparently, when I was in Atlanta, he had his own killer case of gators and missed work because of it. When he wasn't missing work, he went out to the car to lay down. I feel horrible that he has gone though that. He's never really been depressed, and doesn't take antidepressants, but in a way I'm relieved because now he says that he understands.
It's easy to get mad when you come home from work and find your spouse still in bed, exactly where you left them 11 hours earlier. You want to just tell them to take a shower and snap the hell out of it and move on. Depression is weakness, you know. But, it's not that easy. And now he gets it. I should be grateful but it still makes me sad. And no, I haven't showered yet today but I'm feeling okay.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Better
I'm starting to feel a little more functional now. I don't know if it's the Lexapro starting to kick in at the higher dose, or the tons of sleep that I got this weekend, but I don't really care. It's so good to not mind getting out of bed.
We never did fix the evil toilet this weekend (mainly because I never got out of bed). Shit happens.
We never did fix the evil toilet this weekend (mainly because I never got out of bed). Shit happens.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Chomp
It's been a while, I know. We've been really busy traveling for work and family, working a lot, having the closet redone (and dealing with the messes before and after). I think about forcing myself to write, but I can't pull the trigger. I can't pull the trigger on much these days.
I've been taking 20mg of Lexapro for the last few weeks, and I don't think that it's making much of a difference yet. I've been propelled along by inertia for the last few weeks, and it has completely caught up with me now that I don't have a carved-in-stone agenda. I have more to get done now than I have in a very long time, but I can't get it together.
At least the Lexapro isn't keeping me awake.
I've been trying to put a spin on things so that H doesn't worry too much, but it caught up with me today. I've been forcing myself to get showered and presentable before he gets home, and even have been asking him to run errands with me so that I'm forced to leave the house, but he figured it out today. I told him that I had planned on going into the office, but I just couldn't. So, he called me at home and here I am. Thankfully, my boss told me that I don't have to go into the office unless I want to, so I am no longer required to go in for two days a week as we already discussed.
I'm not sure what to do, other than to pray that it passes quickly and that the Lexapro starts kicking in quickly.
I've been taking 20mg of Lexapro for the last few weeks, and I don't think that it's making much of a difference yet. I've been propelled along by inertia for the last few weeks, and it has completely caught up with me now that I don't have a carved-in-stone agenda. I have more to get done now than I have in a very long time, but I can't get it together.
At least the Lexapro isn't keeping me awake.
I've been trying to put a spin on things so that H doesn't worry too much, but it caught up with me today. I've been forcing myself to get showered and presentable before he gets home, and even have been asking him to run errands with me so that I'm forced to leave the house, but he figured it out today. I told him that I had planned on going into the office, but I just couldn't. So, he called me at home and here I am. Thankfully, my boss told me that I don't have to go into the office unless I want to, so I am no longer required to go in for two days a week as we already discussed.
I'm not sure what to do, other than to pray that it passes quickly and that the Lexapro starts kicking in quickly.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Needless Worrying
Of course, that's the story of my life.
I went in to Dr. D today about the depression. I told her that I had gotten the Lexapro from my sister (which is such a lie... she won't even give me a phone call) and she was very understanding about it. In fact, Dr. D really likes Lexapro because there are so fewer side effects. She bumped me up to 20 mg, and gave me two different scrips - one so I can get it filled now and one to mail in.
She wants me to come back in 6 months to see how it's working, and to discuss talk therapy. Been there, done that. But, perhaps she can hook me up with someone that will actually help. The last person that I saw was a really nice lady, but we never really worked on it. Not that I know what to expect, mind you, but I thought that it would be much more introspective and problem solving than it was.
I went in to Dr. D today about the depression. I told her that I had gotten the Lexapro from my sister (which is such a lie... she won't even give me a phone call) and she was very understanding about it. In fact, Dr. D really likes Lexapro because there are so fewer side effects. She bumped me up to 20 mg, and gave me two different scrips - one so I can get it filled now and one to mail in.
She wants me to come back in 6 months to see how it's working, and to discuss talk therapy. Been there, done that. But, perhaps she can hook me up with someone that will actually help. The last person that I saw was a really nice lady, but we never really worked on it. Not that I know what to expect, mind you, but I thought that it would be much more introspective and problem solving than it was.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Not sure if I really want to revel in this
There was an interesting article about Mad Pride in today's NYT. I know that my problems are legion, and that I take a hell of a lot of medication for them (between the depression and the Crohn's). I am much more open about telling people about it, but I don't know that I would necessarily want to celebrate it. Both illnesses are an intrinsic part of who I am, and they're certainly not going to go away any time in the future, but I'm not particularly proud of them.
Blogging about it is enough, and I'm doing this mostly to get it off of my chest. Certainly not out of any desire to become famous or renowned or widely read or anything like that.
Blogging about it is enough, and I'm doing this mostly to get it off of my chest. Certainly not out of any desire to become famous or renowned or widely read or anything like that.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Lexapro update
It's too early to tell if it's working, but I've been taking it every morning. One week out and I haven't had any nausea or any other weird side effects that I can mention. Of course, this week hasn't been the best week to test it or pay close attention to my mental state, but shit happens.
I hope that it starts to work and works well. I don't want to go back to Effexor and I have an irrational dislike of Cymbalta because of the stupid commercials.
I hope that it starts to work and works well. I don't want to go back to Effexor and I have an irrational dislike of Cymbalta because of the stupid commercials.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Oh, okay
I took the Lexapro. Of course, it took me this long to get the guts to do it (it's after midnight now). I hope that it doesn't keep me awake, although there probably wouldn't be enough in my system to make a difference.
Now, all I have to do is come up with a good reason why I'm taking it without a prescription when I go in to see my doctor on the 29th. She's a very nice person, so hopefully, she won't yell too much. It would serve me right, though.
Now, all I have to do is come up with a good reason why I'm taking it without a prescription when I go in to see my doctor on the 29th. She's a very nice person, so hopefully, she won't yell too much. It would serve me right, though.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Lexapro
I've tried Wellbutrin, and it turned me into a psycho bitch. H didn't tell me that until after I had taken it for months. Go figure. I've tried Effexor, and it makes me nauseous and doesn't allow me to sleep. I've been off of it for a few months now, because my prescription ran out and I haven't been able to bear the thought of going into the doctor. Vicious circle, yes.
H has about a month's worth of Lexapro samples that he thinks that I should start taking, but I'm nervous about starting it without talking to Dr. D first. I don't see her until May 29. He may kill me before then, though.
I thought that I was doing better, but I must not be if he brought it up tonight. Normally, he never brings it up. It probably doesn't help that I've had 4 glasses of wine tonight.
H has about a month's worth of Lexapro samples that he thinks that I should start taking, but I'm nervous about starting it without talking to Dr. D first. I don't see her until May 29. He may kill me before then, though.
I thought that I was doing better, but I must not be if he brought it up tonight. Normally, he never brings it up. It probably doesn't help that I've had 4 glasses of wine tonight.
Friday, April 25, 2008
What's up with the Gator thing?
During an excellent scene in The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Vivi tells Sidda not to venture too far out in the lake because the gators are out there and her friends won't be able to reach her. Kind of an awful thing to say to a 10-year-old, but it did get the point across neatly.
T (my best friend) and I joke about gators whenever we get depressed. She's not as afflicted by them as I am, but they are always lurking out in the lake. We always keep a sharp stick ready so that we can defend each other by poking one in the eye, but medication tends to help better.
T (my best friend) and I joke about gators whenever we get depressed. She's not as afflicted by them as I am, but they are always lurking out in the lake. We always keep a sharp stick ready so that we can defend each other by poking one in the eye, but medication tends to help better.
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