Finally.

.

Sitting in a coffee shop this evening with some time to kill, waiting for my friend to arrive I spent about a half hour reading  my Post Secret app.  If you're familiar with Post Secret, the app is different.  Instead of just secrets there are a lot posts about longing for love, lost love, bad love, and any other kind of love you can imagine.  There are also a lot of 'days sober' and disturbingly - many 'I don't want to live anymore' posts.


Being a moody and depressed teen (and adult, for that matter!) myself at one time, I had to look around and say - damn!  I'm pretty doggone happy with things these days.  


Really.  Thank God.






.

A little of this, a little of that.

A couple things. Finally went for my first mammogram since all my testing last year. Sheesh - I felt like I was in so much trouble - because I had not come when I was supposed to, because I had a doctor's order for a follow up on one side but it was time for my regular screening which obviously would be both sides. I was almost chastised for doing the whole thing incorrectly as if I didn't take it seriously.

I took it seriously alright, but with a couple mammograms, an ultrasound, and a mammotome which is basically treated like surgery, I decided to wait until I had paid off the hospital before I went back for more tests. I know, how novel.

Yes I have insurance. Yes, they paid for a good part of it. But I did come out of it owing the hospital enough to have to set up a payment plan which took me months to pay off. In the end - when the tech pulled me aside to tell me my results, I made sure she knew the reason I had put off having further tests so she knew that she treated me like a naughty child based on some false assumptions, and I really hoped she felt like a chump when I left. Maybe she'll think twice before she jumps to conclusions about other patients and their motives behind how they handle their healthcare.

It wasn't her place to judge me.

The other thing I wanted to mention, or maybe rail about is - where did all these people on the roads come from??? Where were the normal jerks I usually share the road with in the mornings and evenings on my way to and from work? Today - it was holiday traffic. People who apparently don't drive any other time of the year and come out on the roads, drive in whatever lane they want to, and make sure they drive at least 5 miles - preferably 10 - under the speed limit. And they don't care if they are driving side by side with another driver in the lane next to them, also going 10 miles under the speed limit and effectively blocking normal traffic and causing other people behind them to have spontaneous strokes and aneurysms bursting all over the place.

GET OFF MY ROAD!!!

Whew, I feel better. Thanks for listening.

Oh, and my mammogram was fine, all looks good and I won't be due for another check for a year. Woo hoo!

It's the little things ...

Tonight my daughter looked at me, rolled her eyes and said "you care too much."

She was referring to the 'back to the top' icon I just added to my blogs. At the bottom on the right. Look, I'll wait. I believe it was Stimey's blog I was reading when she mentioned Blogger Buster. Always up for new widgets and gadgets I bookmarked the site knowing I would end up there at some point.


I don't know why I like to mess with this stuff. My desktop icons have changed with every new wallpaper I find, and I obsessively search the interwebs for pictures to create my own screen savers. I have so many pictures I had to get an external hard drive just to store them.


Tonight I finally went to Blogger Buster and decided I would try to put the 'back to the top' button on my blogs. Amanda, who writes the blog gave instructions on how to customize the icon and that's all she had to say. I was off. Two hours later - literally - I had found the icon I wanted to use and put it on this - and my photo blog. TWO hours I spent.


While showing my daughter the icon I was ridiculously happy that I had found the right up-arrow, had installed it and made it work. Seriously. Giddy, even. Her comment didn't dampen my spirits one bit.


When I got my first PC in oh ... 2000 or 2001 - I was actually wondering where I could find some kind of directory for the internet, you know, a catalog - preferably alphabetized, of all the sites on the internet. I figured somebody had to have come out with one! Considering that - I think I've come a long way. So if a little button on my blog makes me happy I say - woo hoo! Why not? It IS the little things, right?


Try my button. Go back to the top, on me.

~Happy Monday ~

~ * ~

~ * ~

Mark my words ..

I will never, ever, in my life have 4 cats all at one time again. Ever. Did I mention never?


Don't get me wrong. I love these cats, I do. If I had a bigger house with a basement room just for litter boxes and could afford to pay someone to come in and vacuum and de-fur every single day, I would probably have more than 4.


But this house isn't that big and I don't vacuum every day. The litter boxes are in the utility room because there is no basement. And the cats are everywhere. Or so it seems.


I only meant to have 2 and I think that is a reasonable, manageable number for most people, and I have told how I came to have more. I'm really not sitting here plotting how to get rid of any of them and I'm not waiting impatiently for any of them to die. But oh, the hair.


My daughter did not tell me how allergic the new boy is. The idea of someone who may be severely allergic to cats coming into my home makes MY throat start to close. I can vacuum, I can wipe down furniture and poke into the corners and crevices where hair can hide and it would still never be enough. I can de-hair to my heart's content but if someone is truly horribly allergic none of it will make a difference. I cannot get rid of all the dander and cat bits that can't be seen with the naked eye.


So, for Mother's Day I am hoping my daughter will come home and I will meet the new boy without having to jam an epi-pen into his leg. Wish me luck, will you?

And for all of you mothers out there, I wish you the best day ever!

Happy Mother's Day!!!

It's all I've ever wanted!

So yesterday afternoon I got a phone call from my daughter who informed me she was on her way home from school “to clean the house!!”

???

She was coming home to clean the house as a birthday gift to me, being the starving college student and all that. I have been asking for this gift since I don’t know – forever maybe??? Mother’s Day, my birthday, Christmas – kids – don’t spend money on me – just clean the house. I’ll love it!

And now it’s finally happening. Sigh-h-h.

Life is good.

It's your birthday, it's your birthday!

~ DANI ~

You've always had your own mind and your own style Honey. Although it IS a bit more sophisticated now. :)


Wish you could be home for your birthday but we will celebrate when you are able to make it. Happy Birthday Sweet Pea.
Love you! Kisses!

~Mom~

Nothing says I love you more

Valentine's Day is the day I am going to -

February 14th, otherwise known as -

Enjoy your day - Valentine's or no. And to my Sweetheart - I love you - then, now,

.... and always.

Kisses!!

There is just nothing easy about it. Part IV

It's a bit bewildering and can be very frustrating trying to find the right medication for depression. First you have to stop denying something is wrong and get diagnosed which is a huge step. In my case, talk therapy helped with immediate issues like damaged self-esteem and all the other gifts that go along with divorce. But when the talk stopped helping, it was time for drugs. For me anyway.

My therapist was a psychologist which meant he could not prescribe drugs. He wrote a request for me to bring to my regular doctor who is an internist, asking that he prescribe an appropriate medication for someone with dysthemia. Low level, chronic, depression. My favorite description for that is "a lack of joy."

I remember sitting on the chair in the exam room that day when my doc walked in. He is an excellent doctor (driver, excellent driver, buys his underwear at K-Mart) and he is also a smart ass. A gi-normous smart ass. He asked me the usual, how was I feeling, anything new, why did I come that day, etc. I handed him the note from my therapist feeling every bit the little girl handing a note from Mommy to the teacher. No, maybe the principal. He read the note and said "I won't be anybody's prescription pad. Hop up on the table."

After taking my blood pressure and listening to my heart, thumping on my back and pushing on my belly, he finally said something else. "So. What makes you think you are depressed?" I think he was sorry he asked. I immediately burst into tears. I tried to tell him about my divorce and my husband sleeping with half the western world and how I had anxiety attacks and would get diarrhea and I could barely leave the house and I was afraid I was a bad mom and.. and.. and .. by the time I took a breath I saw my doctors face with the look a lot of men get when women cry. The - 'I will do anything if only you would stop crying!' face. That may have been the only visit to his office, ever, that he did not make a crack about his wife, tell me how brilliant his son was or give me a tip on the ponies.

I left with a prescription for Prozac. It was the drug of the moment, everyone was doing it. It was not necessarily the answer for me but it was a place to start. Unfortunately the only way to find out if a med will work for you - is to try it. And if you don't know what you should feel like, don't know what "normal" feels like - it's an arduous and sometimes very long process to find the right drug for you. I tried many many drugs, some for as long as a year, some for as short as a week or two, and when I was asked if it was helping my answer was generally close to the same thing. "I don't know. Maybe. It's hard to tell." Which I know now, for me, meant NO. Because when I did find the right medication - or actually - combination of meds - I knew it.

It was night and day for me. But first I went through going to the OB/Gyne because I was sure I was experiencing peri-menopause and was put on the pill for a while. I tried drugs that made me physically ill and some that made my mouth so dry I could not spit. I took meds that did seem to help. A little. When I found the right med it just so happened it was at the same time I was on the pill. I thought hmmm, why not find out if it is the birth control pill or the anti-depressant that is helping me. Hormones on one hand, depression on the other. I'm a nutcase on one hand, I'm a normally hormonally crazy woman on the other. Hmmm.

I went off the anti-depressant first. I realized about 2 weeks later that there was this sort of darkness creeping in. Irritability, apathy, the hopelessness was starting to envelop me. It wasn't as bad as it had been - but I recognized it. It was almost like pulling a light blanket over my head, just enough to dull the world around me and put up a barrier. I knew for a fact that the blanket over my head would become heavier and more than I wanted to bear again. I went back on the meds. A few weeks later the light started to show through again. Ah-h-h. Picture a hammock, sunshine, and drinks with umbrellas ahh-h-h-h-h.

When I say it was like day and night for me - I do not mean the change was apparent immediately. It was a gradual thing, I needed to recognize 'happy' - and learn how to not be frightened to apply the word to myself. Surprisingly, coming out of depression can be a scary experience in it's own right. Sadness may be the only thing some people remember feeling. Being happy - or knowing just what that is and how to BE it - can be a daunting task when all you have known is NOT. It doesn't happen overnight but it is so worth it. It's much easier to learn 'happy' when you don't have bad feelings dragging you down. Hope becomes something you can feel - and oh what a gift that is!

I still have days when I get in a mood, feel down or sorry for myself, but the difference is that those days don't last. Everybody has those days and they don't frighten me anymore. I wish I could say now this is what you have to do to feel better. This is the way to achieve happiness. I don't hold the key, or any keys for that matter. I just know what I went through.

As far as trying different meds and wondering how to tell if one is effective or not? My advice - give it at least four or five months if it doesn't have side effects that bother you. Then ask yourself how you feel. If your answer is "I don't know" or "okay I guess" - and not - "good!" - then move on. You should know when you feel good. You need to have faith that you will recognize 'happy' when it hits you.

Some people never need medication, and some people suffer from a much more debilitating depression than I ever have. It's a complex thing, there isn't one answer for everyone and God knows I'm not a doctor - hell - I don't even play one on TV. So that's always the first place to start. Your doctor. And if your doctor doesn't listen to you - get louder, say it again, let them know you're serious. If that doesn't work - find a new doctor.

Being happy is not over rated I'm telling you. If you think you may need to seek help - you probably do. Just like millions (and I do mean millions) of other people out there. We aren't alone. It just feels like it when you are depressed.

Nite. :)