Wednesday, January 24, 2007

I don't even know where to begin.

So I'm just gonna start. Grab a cuppa and sit down.


A decision has been made, and it was not an easy one.

I'm back on the meds. Day Four.

Remember how happy I was to be off of them? Yeah. Well. You regular readers know it's been a long time comin'. Let me share some highlights of the days leading up to this decision.

Thursday night I went to the library with the Apes for a Thomas the Tank Engine story event. While I was there, I thought I recognized one of the dads on the other side of the room. Back in college I had this boyfriend Rick, and Rick and I used to hang out with some of his fraternity brothers (one of whom was the guy I saw) and their girlfriends.

There were several of us established couples who'd been together a long time, and of our group of friends, only Rick and I and one other couple did not end up getting married. Suffice it to say that I spent a lot of time with him at his fraternity house, which was a smaller fraternity compared to say, the Betas or Sig Eps or Pikes or whatever, and everyone knew everyone. It was a great close knit group.

Anyway, seeing this former member of the group I hung out with every day for three years made me a little nostalgic. It wasn't that I missed my former boyfriend (I hate using the term "ex" when it was such an amicable parting), or even the people because I know it probably would be really weird to hang out with them now, but I missed that time in my life, and I hadn't thought about it for a really long time.

I missed wondering what my life would be like at 30-something (I used to watch 30-Something!) and of course at that time I believed it would be with Rick, but life is what it is and we both ended up very suitably matched with different people, and I am extremely happy that he and I have remained good friends. He reads this blog, in fact. Hi Rick!

So that was Thursday.

Friday I was still feeling just bleh. I tried to do some things, thinking that I could psych myself out of it. Maybe I just felt like shit because I felt like I looked like shit, so I'd make myself less physically gross. I'll do myself up pretty and shave and put makeup on and maybe even put product in my hair. Nope, that didn't work. I even tried cleaning, thinking maybe I just feel like shit because my house looked like shit. Somebody shoot me if I ever get that idea again.

Fast forward to Saturday.

Beeb has just gotten glasses. She looks soooo cute in them, and she loves them. When they came in, she couldn't wait to get them, so I went and picked them up Wednesday while she was at school, thinking that it would be good for her to have them right away, and if she needed them adjusted we could pop in for 30 seconds on Saturday morning and that'd be fine.

We arrived at about 9:25 and signed in. I even wrote "just needs an adjustment" on the sign-in sheet next to Beeb's name thinking it might speed things along. Nope. Meanwhile, the kids are climbing the walls of this office, running in circles, bickering with each other and whining about how long it was taking.

Oh, and I forgot - pointing and staring at the people with patches on their eyes and asking me why that person has no eye and, when I tried to ignore them to save myself from embarassment, fighting over the potential explanations ("Maybe her eye fell out!" "No, STUPID, your eye can't fall out!" "Yes, it can! I saw it on Ren and Stimpy, right, Mom?" "Is that TRUE, Mom??").

Great. Now everyone knows I let my kids watch Ren and Stimpy. Fortunately, judging by the predominant representation of octogenarians in the waiting room, they probably have no idea what Ren and Stimpy is or why a normal mother might object to it.

Sometimes the office people take pity on the mother with three unruly children and they try to get us out of there as quickly as possible. It works all the time at the pediatrician's. But apparently not here, not today.

Just then, the classic Simon and Garfunkel song "I Am A Rock" came on the Generic Doctor's Office Muzak station. And for some reason, the song just really got to me. Yeah, I'm an island all right. I'm like the one in Lord of the Flies with little boys running around filthy and fighting each other and chasing wild boars and fashioning weapons out of twigs and rocks.

And a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries.

That's called foreshadowing, kids. Stay with me.

The elderly couple ahead of us FINALLY understood what their insurance would cover (of course, after listening to the tech spend 30 minutes explaining it, I'm sure Pie could probably break it down for them too), and Beeb got her glasses fixed. We had to take the elevator to get back to the car, so we were standing by the buttons and I told Pie he could push the down button.

Now, how it works with my boys is that one of them pushes the button outside the elevator and the other pushes the number of the floor inside the elevator (I came up with that all by myself - feel free to use it with your kids). So that would mean that once we were inside the elevator, everyone would know it would be Tito's turn to push the button.

Except Beeb. Beeb decided that it was unfair to her and so SHE pushed the button for the ground floor. Tito SHRIEKED the most ear piercing indescribable shriek (like a Zamboni running over a tricycle and dragging it, or some kind of metal scraaaaaaaaaaping on more metal is the closest I can get to what it sounded like) and I effing LOST it.

"HOW OLD ARE YOU, BEEB???!! SERIOUSLY!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? I SWEAR TO GOD YOU GUYS CAN NOT GIVE ME 30 SECONDS' WORTH OF FREAKIN PEACE ON AN ELEVATOR RIDE DOWN THREE FREAKIN FLOORS!!!!!!!"

Nobody said a word the entire way home, and when we got back it was 10:30. I told the Apes, You guys know where the food is. I'm going to go lie down in my room. Don't bother me unless there's blood or fire. I wanted to be a Simon and Garfunkel Rock where I touch no one and no one touches me.
And I laid there the entire day. Literally.

Now, I don't throw the word "literally" around (and people that do really bother me, but they don't literally "bug the crap outta me", because that's just gross. See?), but in this instance, the word "literally" is appropriate.

I felt the physical feelings that one would associate with a fever or flu, and yet I knew I wasn't sick. It was exactly like that commercial for some pharmaceutical that says "Where does depression hurt? Everywhere." while showing a woman walking away from a bed where a man is lying awake, staring sadly.

I felt like my arms and legs were made of cement and I couldn't move them. I was completely immobilized. Nothing sounded good, nothing sounded fun, I couldn't create a happy thought in my brain without instantly creating some form of polar opposite negativity simultaneously. My head sounded like it was trying to tune into an AM radio station and all I could get was static and the sounds of the different stations trying to compete with each other for ownership of that particular airwave.

My parents called and I opened up to them about how I was feeling, and they were, as always, more understanding than I thought they would be. I told them that I was thinking about going back on the meds but how I really didn't want to go back on them for exactly the same reasons that some people who clearly need them don't want to take them either - I didn't want to NEED them.

R came home from work and I told him about the day and, y'all, I just love that man. He gets it. He tagged in, made dinner and put the kids to bed. I know that I am probably not an easy person to love. I do think I'm a terrific person to know. I'm hilarious. I would be friends with me. I should love hanging out with myself.

But it's really only recently that I've started talking to people (my vast readership included) about what I call The Sad Me. But I don't want you to confuse The Sad Me with My Dark Side, cuz I actually kinda like that part of me, my Inner BadAss. She's a hoot.

So that night I decided that I would start meds the next day. And I did.

And I even went to my new knitting class and enjoyed it. Learned several things, in fact. And I'm not the greenest knitter in the class, which is comforting.

Sunday night, however, I didn't sleep at all, and I'll use this word again - LITERALLY.

At about 3:30am, after I'd watched informercials for The Magic Bullet on two different channels (these are the times when I wish I had cable), I just started to sob uncontrollably. I didn't want to wake R up. He needed to sleep. I laid there wishing I had a Middle of the Night Friend that I could call, but I don't. I think I'm a few other people's Middle of the Night Friend, and I am happy to be that for other people, but I just was overcome by the sense that I had absolutely no one I could call and cry to at that moment who would understand. The thought did enter my head to call my parents, but what parent doesn't instantly panic when they get a phone call from their daughter at 3:30am? I didn't want to do that to them.

If there had been a 24-hour inpatient facility I could think of anywhere within driving distance (and if I could have somehow arranged child care), I would have packed a bag, driven however many miles, and checked myself in.

It was THAT BAD.

Monday, I called my therapist, whose name, coincidentally, is Penny. I haven't been to talk to her since I started blogging. Blogging is waaaay cheaper. (Now don't you feel used? Sorry.)

And I wanted to blog during this whole time, but none of the things I normally like to do sounded like fun to me. I tried to work on my knitting project for my class and I kept knitting my stitches really tight so I quit. I knew I was still in the middle of a dark cloud and I thought I could write about it better when I was on the other side of it.

Y'know what helps when your therapist can't fit you in until four weeks from now? Get a great haircut, and watch Dr. Katz. I love that show.

So here we are, Day Four back on Wellbutrin XL. I'll probably never sleep again, but I did manage to give up caffeine with the exception of the occasional cup of hot tea, so I'm hoping that this side effect will subside eventually. And it's not like I was sleeping much before anyway.

If you've made it through to the end of this post, you may now apply to be my Middle of the Night Friend. There will be a talent competition, an interview, and a written essay which must contain appropriate usage of the word "literally".

And, in the event of a tie, the winner will be selected by either a swimsuit competition or a shoot-out. Perhaps I'll toss a coin.

Or perhaps a shoot-out in swimsuits. Yes. That's it.

25 comments:

Cheryl said...

you and I are really too much alike....
sounds like we've been rowing the same boat except I have one kid... just life in general has been so overwhelming...
hang in there-- I can't say it'll get better, but I hope it does, and either way... I'll be here.

LilKnitter said...

I hope you're feeling better soon, PK. I haven't literally been where you are (don't you live in the Southern States, somewhere?) I do understand how you're feeling. Despite all your self-deprecation (hilarious!) you do sound like a great mum. Be well!

turtlegirl76 said...

(((HUGS))) I would so be your middle of the night friend but I really do think I'd suck at it. Although I apparently hold a great, if confusing, conversation in my sleep if prompted. So if you're looking for a laugh at 3:30am then I'm your gal.

I know going back on the meds was a hard decision to make but you did the right thing for yourself. That is, you're taking care of yourself.

Anonymous said...

I nominate myself.
We'll discuss raspberry cordials (prolly drink them), daughters with glasses, sensitive sons, fabulous husbands (Jim counts), body parts we wish didn't jiggle, dishes in the sink, gross stains on the carpet, not wanting to move at all for any reason, money mismanagement, kids we love desperately but wish would sometimes be silent and elsewhere if only for a moment, and all that crap.
Also, since I have cable, I'll give you a run-down on the cable infomercials AS THEY AIR!
I'll tell you about working mid-watches in the Navy. That'll put you right out.

And really, for you I'd wake up in the middle of the night. We all would.
PS- my word verification is lixxjuba! How DID they know??

Anonymous said...

WO-man alive! Do I hear ya girl! I've been off my meds since Aug and there are days that I wanna go back. Haven't done it yet, but I'm glad to know that the 'happy little pills' are there if I need them.

Hang in there sassy thang. I know it doesn't help, but that's all an overworked mom can do some times, is hang on.

(That and consume obscene amounts of chocolate and wine)

Anonymous said...

Oh, sweetie. I know what you are going through, because I've been through it. And I'm probably not as much fun as OLPP, or as entertaining as Turtlegirl, but I listen really, really well. And I can cry right along with you, if that will help. Maybe you need a list of Middle of the Night Friends. I know it could be a long one, because we all love you.

DomesticOverlord said...

I can so be your middle of the night friend as soon as I move. Right now the house is too small and I cannot CONTROL the VOLUME of MY VOICE. Though if you're really flipping out, I'll email you my cell phone # so you can call me in a way that won't wake the house and I'll go hide in the garage and talk to you. But if the zombie horde rises up and I get devoured because I was out in the garage alone all distracted I'm so going to haunt you.

Anonymous said...

Oof. Literally. Oof.

You definately need cable. I am totally mesmerized by the Vidalia Chop Wizard. It runs circles around the Magic Bullet!

You have to keep in mind that you waited til you reached your wit's end, the last straw, the end of your rope, the end all to end all (do I get extra points on my application for excessive use of cliches?) before you got back in the saddle (you thought I was done didn't you?) and went back on the meds. There's nothing to be disappointed about there.

I think you've hit on something that could be quite profitable...a Middle of the Night Friend service. Kind of like a 900 sex line except with less husky voiced operators.

You call up and just shoot the shit/cry/laugh with some random stranger.

Write that down...it could be huge!

Anonymous said...

I have one thing to say.

Hooray for happy pills! How lovely that they invented such a wonderful and miraculous medication!

I'm all for anything that makes you feel like your old self. And anyway, sleep is grossly overrated. I get my best knitting done in the middle of the night...no kids!

Sending a big ol' huggie poo your way.

But don't call me in the middle of the night. Unless there's blood or fire.

xoxo Poops

Anonymous said...

*hugs*

You know I love you, you make me laugh so much I cry.

Hoping you sort things out and the meds do their job.

*hugs*

amylovie said...

How 'bout a knit off for your MOTH friend. I might be able to swing that, but the swimsuit competition is out of my league.

I hope you get to feeling better. Take care of yourself.

Your Cuz

Anonymous said...

I would love to be your middle of the night friend- I am just getting off work at 3:30 am!
Plus I will make you laugh in the swimsuit shootout!
The magic bullet is definitely on my to buy list!
Give the meds 2-3 weeks to kick in, things will get better!

buttercup said...

I've been on the same roller coaster lately so I understand how bad it had to be to make that decision. It's not always easy to do what is best for yourself, especially if it's something you don't want to do. You deserve a standing ovation, many hugs and shoulders to cry on and maybe a couple of shots of tequila.

P.S. - the Magic Bullet isn't all it's cracked up to be. My SIL bought it and making one drink at a time is a P.I.A. Now the Set-it-and-forget-it... Best invention EVER!

helen said...

a shoot-out in swimsuits. woo ooo!!

heya, i think i just got me some power panties...that match a nifty power bra. hot pink lace. a wee little ribbon rose in the center band of both. charming. indeed. and my fave brand, fruit of the loooooom.

prayin for ya, PK.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I've been to that place too. You are very smart to get back on the meds AND set up a counseling appointment.

I was going to say something else, possibly something profound or at least clever, but instead I am just sitting here not typing anything.

I guess "I know how you feel" and "good for you" will have to do for now. Sorry.

cpurl17 said...

You can call me too--I'm on the left coast so midnight is only 9PM here! I can tell you about life as a middle-aged single girl and how I'll die alone and my cats will eat my eyeballs and we'll both feel crappier and then dream of running off to start a knititng resort on a tropical island where power pantied women rule.

Anonymous said...

Um, not sure what to add to the chorus of support, but, yeah, I believe very strongly in treating depression. I'm glad you are doing that.

My verification word is vezygs. I feel like I should be able to make something out of that.

Hang in there. I'm so glad you've got a good husband. Get your pharmaceuticals squared away start the road to recovery.

(Do all the SSRIs make you stay up all night? Is there a better choice for you, side-effect-wise?)

Anonymous said...

Hang in there PK. I know the feeling of having a full 6 pack but lacking the plastic thingy to hold it all together. Every time I think I am out of the woods, I have a week stretch that tells me differently. So I just look for the silver lining, and know that the glass is half full, and if life is giving me lemons at this moment I try to make lemonade. There are days that I feel like I can soar with the eagles and others I feel like I was beat like a drum, or I zigged when I should have zagged.
All in all life is too short, so if the meds will help then use them wisley. Allow them time to get in your system and work. Remember Rome wasn't built in a day.
Feel better soon, I think I had more cliches than Beezie, so I will throw in the towel on this and get ready for work. Stay well.

Anonymous said...

I hope you start to feel better soon.

Anonymous said...

Hey, I got talent! And a swimsuit! Literally! I can't wait for the shootout!

Ya know, it's not easy being an evil genious/baritone type. There's so much pressure when one is trying to take over the world, no? I started my little blue & white pill 'bout 6 months ago. And I know what the 'blue flu' feels like. We are fragile beings, and sometimes we must relinquish both pride and control just to stay in control.

Thanks for sharing. You're the best and we all think so. Mmmmmmuuuuaaahhhh!

Anonymous said...

"uqhdgaxz." Yeah, that sums up how it feels.

PK -- you tried to work without them. So it didn't work this time. No failure, sweetie. Take the meds if you need them. That's what they're there for. No sense going through life miserable when it's so easily (!) treated.

I know from whence I speak. I don't want to take the friggin' pills, either. I resent that I've been forced into a position where I have to, temporary or not. But it's way better than where I was, for me and everyone else. And it took hitting my own wall to truly realize that.

I'd apply for the midnight counselor job, but I disqualify myself on account of I do not do swimsuits. (No, I'm not some skinny-dippin' perv…)

Carol said...

This is the perfect example of why sometimes we have to reach out for help. There is no shame in wanting/needing help. Hope you feel better soon!

Anonymous said...

Well, I live LITERALLY on the other side of the earth, so when it's the middle of the night your time, it's the middle of the day for me, and vice versa. So, I think we'd be perfect middle-of-the-night friends, for that reason and also because we get along when it's not the middle of the night; and to get our minds off of things we can always commiserate about MU basketball.


Please do away with the swimsuit competition though--I haven't owned one since I was in jr. high!

ZantiMissKnit said...

((((HUGS))))
I've been there, but sans apes.
I hope you're feeling better.
xoxo. . . Andrea

Denice said...

I kind of get where you're coming from. I'm sitting here at 5:38am, having not slept at all last night (or tonight). . . the one that just passed. Stupid SSRIs make me all nervous and wiggly, but the alternative is worse. I'm wishing I could sleep all day, but my kids won't allow it.

So I hope, hope, hope you get feeling better soon on the medication. I love reading your blog, and I'm so impressed by your honesty.

My verification word is hnpnlz. It just made me think of "peeing" which my two year old would think is funny.