Daily Archives: August 6, 2013

A lesson in watching out, and looking forward to tomorrow!

What did I do today?  What didn’t I do today!  I ran over to my dear neighbor Judy’s for a big squasher-squeezer hug, because I hadn’t seen her since I returned to Jerusalem.  We had a whirlwind catch-up chat, and then it was time for me to go somewhere else–I forget where.  The day continued on that note (in the meantime doing laundry at my friend Rafael’s, who lives half a block away) until my landlord FINALLY showed up to fix a bunch of things that needed fixing.  I wanted him to tell me how to keep the giant cockroaches, the size of a Volkswagon, out of my kitchen and bathroom at night (they are cowards: they won’t show an antenna in the light).  He just shuddered and shrugged his shoulders.  Big help.

Spent the whole rest of the day editing my book proposal.  Finally got tired and decided to go out for gleeda.  That’s ice cream in Hebrew.  I started out walking toward the shuk, which is incredibly crowded in the evenings these days because of Ramadan; but before I could get there I encountered an elderly blind woman who had got seriously turned around and was doing battle with her white cane against an enormous garbage bin.  I asked her if she needed help and she clamped onto my elbow like a vise-grip wrench.

She told me where she wanted to go, and exactly how to get there.  The streets were packed.  Cars parked on the sidewalks.  The obstacle course was challenging enough to me, but she really didn’t seem to mind it at all, now that she had me to hang onto.  I often doubted the wisdom of this, given that I had forgotten the Hebrew words for “curb” and “pothole.” No matter.  She dragged me straight into the surging sea of traffic and out the other side, where I got confused about some ambiguous street signs and had to be helped by the blind lady to figure out where I was.   At least someone on this team had the ball.  Somehow we managed to end up at her apartment building.  And guess what!  It was right across the street from the gleeda shop!  How’s that for instant reward?

And now for the plug: don’t touch that dial, folks, stay tuned for tomorrow’s edition of Breaking the Silence of Stigma.  My planned guest had to cancel due to a family emergency, so I took the opportunity to write a story I’ve been wanting to write for a long time.  Hope to see y’all in the comments!

Circuitry overload

I was at the McDonald’s drive thru this morning…And it suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks that I on the verge of a meltdown. Because there were cars coming and going from all directions and people walking and my kid whining for some pop and the panic began to set in…I held on, but it was a tenuous grasp at best. My circuits are overloading, as they have time and time again when I have been functional for awhile and auto pilot is starting to fail. It’s like the world is wired for 220 and I am rated at 110. I can’t keep up. And it’s not so much a mind set of, “I can’t do this.” No, this is just fact. I am not keeping up. I am managing. But I am slipping.

My morning started out with me oversleeping until 9 am, courtesy of Trazadone. (I couldn’t get my brain to stop churning last night, it was a last ditch effort at 1 am.) Then I got my hair stuck in fly tape. I had to make a trip to Wal Mart for party stuff for my kid’s birthday. Then R sent a text asking if I could come in, because I totally don’t need advance notice at all. More short circuit brain zaps. Too much, too fast, and no amount of therapy can instill something that wasn’t there to begin with.  My brain doesn’t process this new fast paced world.

My weekend was KIDS KIDS KIDS. On the plus side, the kids adore me. One mom was telling me her kid’s first words in the morning are my name, which is flattering to me, though probably hurtful to her. I don’t know if it’s because their home lives suck that much or coming to my house is just more fun than going elsewhere. I like that the kids love me. Though I think they may just love me to death.

I came home tonight to a newborn kitten in my yard. My ditzy cat just dropped them wherever and refused to take care of them. I didn’t even get them settled before a slew of kids turned up, the usual suspects bringing new suspects with them. And being told my house smells. Yeah, well, it does smell musty which is why I burn incense and oil. But they don’t like my rosemary mint oil, either. Ca’t win, so why bother.

I managed three hours of bickering kids before I said enough. Watched Men In Black with my kid, though she didn’t see the aliens as being as funny as I do. Now she is asleep and I can breathe…But I am so stressed and worn out by it all that  I just want to vegetate. He wants me back at the shop tomorrow. Then Wednesday evening is my mom’s shindig for my kid’s birthday, which will NOT be fun. R and his wife are bringing the grandbaby, which should be entertaining, that uppercrusty woman interacting with that faction of my white trash family. Of course, there will be lots of people there that have nothing to with me and my kid. It will be grueling and neverending.

Oddly, I am actually looking forward to the party I am giving her Saturday because 8 or 9 kids is less stressful than my damn family.

It’s funny how earlier, outside the panic and coming unglued, my mood was not u or down. I was high functioning.  Once I came home to surprise kittens, various kids, and ringing phones…My mood crashed. I don’t know if it has anything to do with a stress reaction. Probably. One more thing to hate myself for, being too weak to deal with normal life.

But I also believe the Lamictal has just stopped doing as well it had been. When I see her this month (and she tells me that I could not have had an adverse reaction to Seroquel because she has never heard of it happening to anyone before) I am going to broach the lithium topic. I hate it, but I can’t argue with the fact that it did work for a long time. I will just have to work around the side effects and all the pain in the ass labwork.  I just shouldn’t be up and down this much. Point of a mood stabilizer is too stabilize one’s mood. It doesn’t seem to be doing so well. The Cymbalta, on the other hand, seems to be kicking ass on the major depressive episodes. I hit low on occasion but it’s soo much better than it used to be. Though I won’t deny that a lot of the time, I am pasting on a happy face and faking my way through social interaction simply because my skills are so lacking and my desire to socialize is decreasing. Seasonal affect coming on, I think.

Cycles. That’s what my life amounts to.  Cycles of mood swings, depressions, anxiety, functionality, non functionality…

And now I have a headache and I going to slither under the covers and hope for a brain reboot in the morning.