Sleighbells ring and all that.

I've been feeling a little pathetic recently, to tell you the truth. I had some meds changed, which helped curtail a slide downwards that I was feeling, but they've also left me with some weird side effects. Basically, in the mornings I've been feeling shaky and sometimes vomitous. Actually, I think for the first time ever, coffee is truly exacerbating this yuck feeling. I tried stopping the wakefulness-encouraging medicine, but that just left me so sleepy I've taken two 3-hour naps in the last two days. Followed by a full-night's sleep. Ugh!

This morning it hit me hard that I was going to be alone on Christmas. I called up a friend, but she wasn't able to invite me along to her goings on. I have to admit that I then cried in public. I do have a couple of places I can go, but for some reason they don't feel *right*. I want FAMILY, darnit. Hi Mom. I love you. I'm still glad I'm not getting on a plane, but I sure wish teleportation were a viable travel option. Sigh.

The good thing is that I've managed to take the last couple days' slump and transform it some. I left the house this morning, and when I came back I put in a couple of loads of laundry, ran the dishwasher, and gathered cookie recipes. I've made some thumbprint cookies to showcase my plum jam, and I'll begin on my traditional toffee here in a bit. Tonight I have a party to go to, which I'm looking forward to, and tomorrow I'll be doing the Chapel Hill Christmas Bird Count. I did the Durham one last weekend.

I did get a couple of cards in the mail today, which also helped. One was from my wonderful Grandma, and I'd like to share it with you.

Dear Stew,

I'm sorry you couldn't make it up here for Christmas, but when you work that's not always possible. We'll miss our Stew but will look forward to next summer maybe.* The weather up here is just so cold and snowy right now. I hate to go out and shovel my walk off, but I'll have to because the poor little birdies are all out of seed. So I'll have to go fill the feeder. My two pair of cardinals and the little snow birds (juncos) and sparrows and chickadees and blue jays are waiting for me to feed them. The squirrels and a little rabbit are out there, too. The boys were over last week with their father, and they brought hamburgs. I can't say no to that! I went to school doings with Annie and the boys last Wednesday. Your mom and Pete were here Mon. and brought me wine, two kinds of soup, fresh strawberries, and choc. cheesecake. I guess I won't starve! We will miss you!

Love, hugs, and kisses from
Grandma


*What Grandma doesn't know is that I'm flying up to Michigan for a long weekend at the end of January. She's turning 90, and I'll be there, dammit!

Unmentionables and skeletons

Let's see if you can follow this trail:

I spent three years just after college teaching at a private school in NY. I ended up there for a few reasons--I needed a job, my boyfriend had attended the school before so I had a connection, and I couldn't imagine being prepared for any career other than teaching Spanish. I got the job, so voila. This was very much a reactive situation rather than proactive.

SO. Enter Facebook, again. The same boyfriend from that era had a close group of friends up there, and I plugged into the posse somewhat. I spent time with one woman in particular, really. She's not on Facebook, but another of the group is. He and I met maybe 3-5 times back then, and have talked more on Facebook than we ever did in real life.

He contacted me this weekend and asked if I'd been in a community theater show in 1995.

No. Not that I remember, anyway.

He wrote back and said, well, there are some pictures up here that I'd swear are you. They look like you and are even captioned with your name. He tagged me in one of them so I could have a look-see myself.

Sure enough, it was me. Three pictures, in fact. I tagged myself in the rest of them and messaged the poster, who'd been the director, I think. Haven't heard back yet, but I really wonder how he knew it was me. Shit, I didn't even remember until I saw the pictures. I'm looking forward to his response.

My time up in NY was one of the lower points in my life. I had few friends and less money. I lived on campus at this swank and very traditional boarding school, and was muddling through a long-distance relationship that really had ended some time before. Or should have, anyway. Teaching took a great toll on me--so much grading. So little time. Absolutely no training. Barely three years difference between me and my oldest students.

I'd be in the cafeteria at 5 a.m. and asleep by 8 or 9. I lived with two roommates and three cats. That's when my allergies really developed.

Signs of depression I wish I'd noticed:

Driving myself to the ER in the middle of the night because I didn't want to bother my roommates.
Extreme exhaustion.
Considering therapy for the first time ever, but rejecting it because of stigma.
Hanging desperately on to an unhealthy relationship.
Retail therapy.
Isolation.
So many painful and negative opinions about myself and my abilities.
Overreaction.
Personalizing situations that weren't personal.

Looking back, I don't know how I did it. I was a real mess, and this wasn't the first time. I'd seen the same behaviors and thoughts through most of my life, but they'd come and go in stages.

Over many years, with experience and much therapy, I've conquered or at least improved the ways I handle my life's challenges. I stand up for myself, I believe I am a good person, I can identify my own unhealthy reactions. I ask for help when I need it. I recognize that I've had some pretty rough times and survived them.

However, old habits die hard. I'm still isolated. I still feel unworthy. I feel like I've failed myself in many ways. I don't feel any of these ways all the time. But in my heart, deep down, I'm still not mended.

I cry for the young woman below who looks so happy but was so sad. I wonder if she'll ever really recover.





p.s. What's that SACK of a dress, anyway??

"I'm running out of things to say," or "Looks like I'm depressed again."

How It All Works:

1) Copy the list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional: Post a comment at Very Good Taste, linking to your results

The 100

1. Venison

2. Nettle tea

3. Huevos rancheros

4. Steak tartare

5. Crocodile

6. Black pudding (I think. It was in Spain.)

7. Cheese fondue

8. Carp (Maybe?)

9. Borscht

10. Baba ghanoush

11. Calamari

12. Pho

13. PB&J sandwich

14. Aloo gobi

15. Hot dog from a street cart

16. Epoisses

17. Black truffle

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes

19. Steamed pork buns

20. Pistachio ice cream

21. Heirloom tomatoes

22. Fresh wild berries

23. Foie gras

24. Rice and beans

25. Brawn or head cheese (Thanks to Jamie!)

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper

27. Dulce de leche

28. Oysters

29. Baklava

30. Bagna cauda

31. Wasabi peas

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (I've had both, but not together)

33. Salted lassi

34. Sauerkraut

35. Root beer float

36. Cognac with a fat cigar

37. Clotted Cream Tea

38. Vodka Jelly/Jell-O

39. Gumbo

40. Oxtail

41. Curried goat

42. Whole insects

43. Phaal

44. Goat's milk

45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth $120 or more

46. Fugu

47. Chicken tikka masala

48. Eel

49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut

50. Sea urchin

51. Prickly pear

52. Umeboshi

53. Abalone

54. Paneer

55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal (HA HA HA HA! I've never had a Big Mac!)

56. Spaetzle

57. Dirty gin martini

58. Beer above 8% ABV

59. Poutine

60. Carob chips

61. S’mores

62. Sweetbreads

63. Kaolin (This one confuses me)

64. Currywurst

65. Durian

66. Frogs’ legs

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake

68. Haggis

69. Fried plantain

70. Chitterlings or andouillette

71. Gazpacho

72. Caviar and blini

73. Louche absinthe

74. Gjetost or brunost

75. Roadkill

76. Baijiu

77. Hostess Fruit Pie

78. Snail

79. Lapsang Souchong

80. Bellini

81. Tom Yum

82. Eggs Benedict

83. Pocky

84. 3 Michelin Star Tasting Menu

85. Kobe beef

86. Hare (If they mean rabbit, consider this bolded)

87. Goulash

88. Flowers

89. Horse

90. Criollo chocolate

91. Spam

92. Soft shell crab

93. Rose harissa

94. Catfish

95. Mole poblano

96. Bagel and lox

97. Lobster Thermidor

98. Polenta

99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee

100. Snake

How many have you eaten?

Frustration and annoyance

I'm in a kind of pissy mood today. I won't get into the minute details, but let's just say that I'm frustrated and annoyed with a friend you don't know (for real). The friend has problems but is unable/unwilling (a bit of both) to do things that I know will help.

Yes, it's about depression. I suppose because I've been through it (oh so often!) this friend comes to me to lend an ear. After a while it gets really annoying, and so I decide not to talk to the person about the problem until the person hit bottom enough to do something about it. Cause frankly, there wasn't anything else I could do, and the listening was having a negative effect on MY state of mind. Bubbye. I didn't cut off all relations with friend, but I did withdraw quite a bit, and it feels lovely. We don't have that much in common to begin with, really, and I don't enjoy myself often when we hang out. Very occasionally, yes.

Finally the friend started therapy recently and told me about it. I do want what's best for friend, so I encouraged the therapy. So great. Friend at least is in competent therapy hands. Here's hoping that works. Meanwhile, however, friend is trying to inch closer to me with IM during the day, (which is ignored even if I have the "busy" icon on), and Friend's reaction to the first therapy session is that friend is "fundamentally flawed and will never change." Not at all what the therapist said. Therapist said just that the outward issues are symptoms, and so you can't expect that by losing/gaining weight or getting a boy/girlfriend will solve your problems. Classic depression voice, ya know? Turning things around and making them catastrophic?

Boundaries. I need to (re)set them. I feel bad, but this is just so annoying and stressful to me. I especially feel bad because I know what it's like to be that damn DOWN. But I can't take it anymore. I am not Friend's therapist. Friend now has therapist.

God, I'm annoyed. I'm glad I'm not in Friend's place anymore and will never be again. I at least can ID the signs of depression and not buy into them anymore. It took years of therapy and learning and meds to get me here, but my GOD am I glad I made it.

Now I just need to let go of my guilt by realizing I'm just meeting my own needs.

(But how can I just LEAVE Friend? Friend is majorly suffering! But friend's suffering makes ME suffer! And friend is annoying b/c can't/won't do what needs to be done!)


ARRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

pant pant pant
sigh
(roll eyes at self)

Small world, man.

Hilarious.

Today when I went to the doctor, I remembered that I'd actually be seeing a PA rather than my regular guy. That, understandingly, gave me a bit of anxiety, considering where my health is at the moment. I also knew though that my doctor is closely supervising her and would be actually stopping in during the appointment.

My main concerns: a) lack of background knowledge. This woman wouldn't know me, wouldn't know my current situation, and thusly wouldn't have the same insight into what works for me. And then b) I didn't know her. Compatibility, confidence and trust are practically as important in provider/patient relationships as with romantic relationships, in my book. I was facing uncertainty during a time that can only be described as crisis.

Never doubt that the universe will provide, people. The woman I was scheduled to see, whose name didn't even ring a bell to me, is a PA that I used to see when she was working in the neurology clinic at Big Public Teaching Hospital. She knew me. I knew her. I trust her. I adore her. She's fab. She knew who I'd be before I even showed up. ("Could it be the same Stewie McStewerson I used to treat for epilepsy?" she told me she had asked herself) As soon as I saw her the chips fell into place.

Sum total: We're upping my meds, and I'm going to be better at taking others that I'm prescribed for "as needed" that I tend to avoid. Any medicine that is a controlled substance kind of makes me wary. (No, I won't be taking Gamma Hydroxybutyric Acid or peyote or anything--just some run of the mill and mild things, and short term at that.)

SO! ChaCHING!

"New" provider is not so new.
Meds are going to be good.
Optimism reigns in the face of challenges.
It's also pretty clearly a physiological issue rather than situational or psychological.

I'm good. I'll be better. But we knew that already, no?

Pain

For once it's not my own pain.

Suicide just touched me, if indirectly. I heard soft crying coming from my colleague's office, but thought it was a patient out in the hall and so tuned it out. Then another coworker came in to my office, slightly frantic, for my kleenex and told me what was going on. We got some help, canceled my coworker's duties for the day, and I waited in the office until we got my coworker into the hands of someone who could help better than we could.

Depression to the point of suicide is something I can't fathom. I'm really, really lucky that my suffering, as bad as it's been, has never reached that point. Suicidal ideation, yeah. It's been that bad before, and it's that bad now. But with me it's never been to the point where there was a plan, much less a successful one. With me it's been fleeting thoughts, benign when compared to other people, really. Suicide and attempts in general happen as a way to get rid of the pain, to escape the very, very real pain that comes along with major depression. When I'm suffering enough, what goes through my head isn't exactly thoughts of killing myself, but rather a more vague desire to just not exist. Thankfully, I am able to see this as a very worrying sign and get the help I need. (Like the ongoing care of my doctor, who I see tomorrow.)

Thinking about the degree of pain and isolation that friend of my colleague's must have gone through, to be in a place where the only viable option seemed to be death, reminds me to be grateful for what I have. For what I've accomplished through my own hard work. For medication. For the support I get from professionals, family, friends, coworkers, dogs, and pictures of baby animals.

I feel good today. I know the pain I've been feeling will pass, and I know I'm not as bad off as I could be and have been before. I'm strong, and I can share this pain with other people, so that I don't have to shoulder it all myself. I can reach out in a way that others, the ones who are the ultimate casualties, cannot. I'm lucky.

One of the things I feel most passionate about is the mental health situation in society, and today with a level head, balanced between the logical and the emotional, I want to just remind myself and anyone who reads this, that there is NOTHING wrong with getting help.

And I want to ask you to do as I do, and fight like fucking crazy to support people like me, my colleague's friend, and the legions of people I know have dealt with depression. Talk about it openly when you can. Be strong like me and others who work to reduce the stupid stigma that goes along with illnesses of the brain and emotions. I suspect I'm preaching to the choir here, but it just eats me up to see all the ways that mental health treatment and prevention are marginalized. Insurers and societal attitudes are forces that are tough to change, but I've seen so much progress over the last 20 years that I feel hope now.

Take care of yourself. Take care of others. Fight.

I'm strong as hell.

Lockdown

No, it wasn't just you. I had a slight meltdown in the middle of the night last night and questioned the wiseness of my whole blog's existence, and so I closed it to anyone but me. I opened it back up this morning.

I overshare, and I overshared again last night. I've taken the post down that I wrote. It embarrassed me. The whole blog embarrasses me! I feel so...DRAMATIC. I hate DRAMA.

The truth is I'm doing really badly, and have been for some time. I have another doctor's appointment on Wednesday, so that's good. I dunno.

I don't want people to judge me based on how pathetic I must come across recently.

cold

i'm cold. i don't want to be cold anymore. i don't want to be cold. it's too cold. maybe i should crawl back into bed. cold.

Forgive the spelling...

Wanna hear something depressing?

I was listening to NPR today, and one of the commenters/hosts/whatever asked the other one what s/he thought about the Jena 6 situation, given that the latter was African-American. I think Host 1 framed it in a "what have y'all been hearing around dinner tables" kind of way. Host 2 answered, and I recall being a) annoyed on Host 2's behalf for being treated like THE speaker for the African-American community and b) surprised at my own reaction to learning Host 2's race.

I guess with radio I really don't think about the person unless they have a non-standard voice or name or both.

Silvia Pugioli (if that's how it's spelled) is one that DOES stand out. I picture her with long, grey-flecked hair, tied back and with a scarf on one shoulder folded in a triangle. She's olive-skinned and doesn't much do makeup. Age 55ish.

There's also a Latina woman who doesn't anglicize the pronunciation of her name. I think she's based in California. I could google it, but that would take too much effort, and effort is one thing I'm lacking right now. I perceive her as younger--30s. (Shit. It bothered me too much. I'm referring to Lourdes Garcia-Navarro).

Diane Rheem (See? Radio makes you illiterate, too! I have no idea how any of these names are written) has a distinctive voice, as does the guy who does The Connection, oops I mean The Story--Dick Gordon, innit? Karl Castle, too.

I have no idea what any of them look like. I felt weird for not knowing that Host 2 was black. I felt bad that I lacking other identifying information I was assuming all of these people were white. (I also picture them as beautiful, despite the phrase a face made for radio). And they almost without exception are in their 50s. Not Karl Castle, he's older. As an aside, I'm purposely NOT looking names up for spelling, in order to make a point, and it will annoy me if you "correct" me. I'll likely look them up myself, to try to alleviate the extra-super annoyance I'm already feeling. (Thanks, Current Strong Bout of Depression!)

I haven't gotten to the depressing part yet. That came when I googleimagesearched Host 2 to see what s/he looked like.

Way too many sites linking to a picture of Host 2 were racist, bigoted, right wing, wackjob outfits. I know NPR is considered lefty among the freaky conservative set, but this host is being attacked mostly just for being black. I know it happens. I guess I just have been successful in avoiding people and places that are so fucked up as to impugn someone based on race. These websites felt purely evil...I wanted to wash my hands afterwards, I felt so dirty.

I just went back to see if my emotional memory of this imagesearch matched with my currently cooler head. It doesn't. In fact, it sounds like this host is pretty much reviled by sectors in both the white and black communities.

I guess my point is that racial issues are weird and people who judge based on race piss me off. And that it pisses me off about myself that I do it, too, in assuming whiteness based on name and voice only. It's a little thing, and I'm not exactly down on myself about it, but it did piss me off about the world.

But then again, I'm either pissed off, overwhelmed, pissing others off, fleeing personal interaction, extremely sensitive, and/or crying these days.

Blech

I've not been feeling well...in the sad way. Mom mentioned today that I was being really negative, and I was. I've also had some major irritability, which I hope I've been containing. No need for others to suffer, but I've probably not been doing very well. I already mentioned the increased sleep. Nothing appeals to me, really. Sleep? Eh. Food? Eh. Shopping? Eh. Read? Eh. TV? Eh. Movie? Eh. Internet? Eh. I wish I had some binocs. Maybe I'll take a walk tomorrow with Stella, Annie's dog. Find a dog park or something and really tire her out.

I lost it the other night to a friend over IM. I'd had too much of that damn beer-keg beer, and it made me super weepy. So I wept about my state of being. It hurt to even think about those who love me, in list form, which was what my friend was suggesting. It made me sad. I'm not sure why it made me sad, because there are a lot of people on the list, but I'm tearing up again about it even as I write this. It was just profoundly sad to be having to list the people who love you, I guess.

I slept during the day today. I was uncomfortably cold and so crawled into bed. I lay there and the world just seemed really, really bleak. I think it must have been about 2 when I went to bed. I woke up as night was falling. Mom and Pedro had some kind of business meeting, so I watched TV. God, TV sucks. I'm getting ready to go back to bed. There's nothing else that sounds good, and sleep is less about sounding good than it is about having a way to pass the time that doesn't hurt. Oh, except I did have bad dreams during my nap.

I don't know how to talk about this to people in person when it's this bad. I hate it. I think it has to be just as hard for others. I mean, I feel guilty expressing what I'm feeling because it's SO HATEFUL to myself. For example, I just put a "depression" tag down there. Just as I typed in "depression" thoughts flitted through my head about how there should really be a whole lot more tags in there, like loser, stupid, boring, ugly etc etc etc etc. I'm ashamed.

It's worse at night. I'll wake up feeling a little better. There's always coffee to look forward to.

p.s. Mom? I don't want to talk about it. There's no cause. It just IS.