I was smug in the belief that I had escaped; if escape is keeping the lid on a jar screwed on tight.
Turns out maybe I was wrong on both counts.
a cute toaster
falling over randomly since 1979
Filed under Me …
F the flu
When I was very little, my favourite word to write (on everything) was FLÜ. I don’t know why I included the umlaut. I remember getting stacks of paper grocery bags and writing it over and over in different colour crayons. I think I even wrote it on my freshly-painted bedroom walls.
Being an avid reader of zombie stories it is a little bit amusing that I’m sick with the strain of the flu that has been declared a public heath hazard. The unfunny part is that I’ve been sick since the beginning of January. The best part has been the body pain. Bedding, clothing, shoes – anything that touches my skin hurts.
I had a followup appointment with my doctor yesterday and she confirmed that I just have the flu (no signs of any post-viral bacterial infections) with a side of fibromyalgia flare-up.
After lecturing me on my busy schedule (Pacific Riding School training, the Motorcycle Show, work, life…) she told me to rest this weekend and stop doing so much for awhile. I had to put off the last part of my PRS instructor training, but my doctor made it clear that if I don’t get rest I could be sick for another four weeks. She also prescribed me a drug to help the fibro; she says every time I come in I present a symptom of it and being sick has really brought it out. It’s a two week trial of Lyrica to see how I tolerate it; if it doesn’t work we may switch to Cymbalta.
Not quite what I expected, but she offered it as a suggestion and she’s usually right. For the flu I need rest and fluids. There’s nothing else I can do.
Amanda
I’ve debated about posting this, because it’s pretty personal and it’s a time of my life that I try not to think about very much. My memories from this time are either fuzzy or so sharp that they still hurt today. This is a very brief overview of my experiences as a depressed high school student. I felt compelled to write about it after reading some of the comments that people were leaving in news stories about Amanda Todd.
If you are a depressed teen right now you need to know that with help, it will get better. I know that right now it feels like it’s going to last forever and always be like it is now but it truly isn’t. Please find an adult who you trust and tell him or her how you feel. You cannot overcome this alone. If there isn’t anyone whom you trust please call the Kids Help Phone: 1-800-998-6868 .
And any time someone tells you that your high school years are the best years in your life please know this is absolute bullshit. The last time you walk away from high school with your diploma in hand is truly the first day of the rest of your life.
Silver & gold
I’ve been taking advantage of the gorgeous early autumn weather and riding my motorcycle in to work. The past couple of days have left me with ”interesting” helmet hair; although with my pixie it’s easy to fix. Yesterday while trying to “re-volumize” my hair I noticed that my haircolour has grown out a bit and I have nearly two inches of medium-brown roots and the red is looking pretty faded. I also saw two more strands of silver that weren’t there before. Hmm.
This morning while attending to my ‘do I noticed another one. This pattern is disturbing. That brings me up to five that I’m aware of (somewhere Paul is playing the world’s tiniest violin for me).
When I find silver hair I yank them out. They fascinate me because they’re so different from the brown hair. My “normal” hair is fine and silky; the silver ones are coarse and rough. They don’t hold on to hair dye like the brown ones do. They stick up boldly.
Since I was alone in the office today (my bosses are away at a convention in Toronto) I pained my nails “Gilded Lily” at lunch. Before I attempted to take this picture I had no idea how difficult it is to take a shot of your own hand without a shadow falling across it. Especially as I used my giant phone to take the picture. Please ignore the state of my cuticles and dry skin.
The “gold” part of this post.
Sleepless in traffic
I’m having some challenges with sleep again. I can fall asleep fine but I have trouble staying asleep and getting restorative sleep. It makes me feel like I’m on drugs during the day, like I’ve living just a little bit out of sync with everyone and everything. During the day I feel wired and punchy. It’s odd. My eyes feel crazy like Guy Martin’s. Maybe I’ve just discovered the secret to being a successful road racer? Sleep deprivision until you’re mad as a hatter? Hm, I might be on to something…
This is how I wish I could sleep.
I’m sure that this will sort itself out soon, and to hasten it along I’m going to start taking melatonin in the evenings again. I’ve had a change to my medications which I think is affecting me too. I’ve gone from taking two drugs once a day to one drug twice a day; and I think I’m getting the evening dose in too late. Mostly because it takes me so long to get home because of traffic hell. Honk honk.
June-uary
I’ve been tired. Too tired to want to do much. Social activity seems hard to get to, then hard to get through. So does any physical activity. I just don’t want to. I think maybe I’m just having some FM/CFS/ME issues. No pain though, so that’s not so bad. Just fatigue.
It probably doesn’t help that every time I look outside I think of “June Gloom“. I usually don’t let the weather get me down, but it’s been grey and rainy for so long. I’m really hoping that we don’t have a repeat of last year’s summer…because it never came. Though summer can be slow to start here, I think we’re on track for a record-low June.
Although there is something soothing about falling asleep to the sound of rain.
At least the carnations in my front garden are enjoying the weather; they’re soon going to overrun the garden bed with hot pink flowers and spicy scent. And for once my hanging baskets aren’t lifeless dead husks from baking in the sun.
Run to the sun
Running has always been punishment: running lines, speed drills, conditioning practices, etc. It was certainly never a reward for a good game. I think the last time I ran for pleasure was when I was in grade eight.
So, in a momentary lapse of reason this afternoon I signed up for my first run today: the Colo(u)r Me Rad 5k in August. It looks fun, and getting splattered in rainbows is my idea of a good time. To get ready for this event I’m going to give the C25K program another shot. I think the learn to run program I did with the Running Room went too fast for me, and I couldn’t go back and repeat a week if I needed to. I have to ease my joints into it so I don’t get discouraged. I’m tired of explaining that “I’m not a runner” when I can be a runner. It just may take me longer to get there. I don’t think I’ll ever be a marathoner, but I don’t think Paul thought that he would when he first did the C25K!
Paul and I also started Pilates. We’re taking an eight week course: 4 weeks of mat work and 4 weeks of reformer. The first class was this past Thursday. I like it so far, but it’s tough. We both have hip and knee problems, and building core strength will help on the motorcycles too. For a tall chick with messed up joints and fibromyalgia, I’m actually surprisingly flexible. How much of that is due to the hyperflexion in some of my joints I’m not sure. However some of my joints don’t have enough range of motion so it all evens out…right?
But dude – I’m going to be a runner! Oh god, why am I excited about this?
.
I’m dwelling on some monumentally stupid decisions that I’ve made in the past year. It feels like the bad decisions wiped out the good.
It has served to amp up my feelings of anxiety to nearly the level they were in 2010.
It’s a really bad time for this since I’m involved in some mission-critical stuff at work.
I’m stuck in a short-circuit cycle of regret-guilt-sadness-dispair.
I guess I will sort it out.
Normal
I live in a house in the depths of suburbia. I know people that look down on those of us who condesend to live outside of the bubble of Vancouver, especially *shudder* Surrey. I’m married to someone of the opposite sex. I commute two hours to and from an office job. I take pharmaceuticals. I don’t eat a weird diet (other than avoiding dairy when I don’t have any lactase). I don’t belong to a weird/alternative religion anymore. The political party that I support gets elected (indeed, they are Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition right now).
According to a lot of blogs and articles that I’ve read lately, unless I want to “fuck the system” and live off of the grid, dump my drugs (’cause the drug companies are eeeevil and my brain is now in their power), and only eat vegetables that are harvested under the waning moon that I’m in denial about the suckitude of my life, and/or I’m just a sheep plugged into the system that “they” have created. I’m too content with a conventional life when that life is a shadow of what I could have if I only embraced their way of living. Otherwise, I’m in the Matrix and I don’t want out.
The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you’re inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it. – Morpheus, The Matrix
I came home on Friday feeling like I was one step away from having 2.2 children that I drive to ballet lessons and soccer practice in my gas-guzzling mini van with a little sticker family on the back window. I was standing in the bedroom with my Hello-Kitty pajama pants on and a purple shirt around when my head when I Paul stepped out od the shower. I pounced on him as soon as he took the towel off of his head. “Paul, do you think I’m too normal?”
Paul visibly paused. “You…normal…? What?”
I tried to explain it to him. He cut me off. “How much does Dani Pedrosa weigh?”
“52 kilos!” I responded promptly. (Note: it seems he’s dropped a kilo from last season and he’s now 51kg.) “Hm, I guess normal people doesn’t know things like that, and the fact that Rossi, Spies, and I are the same height, and SRAD came out in 1996…”
“Right. Normal people doesn’t know these things. Are you going to get dressed, or are you going to walk around with that shirt around your head?”
Why I’ll keep taking drugs
A lot of people are resistant to taking antidepressant drugs, or are on them with the hope/goal of getting off of them as soon as possible. When people find out that I take antidepressants they often ask “when are you going to get off of them” or “are you trying to reduce your dose?” My answers are probably never and no.
Panacea, the Greek goddess of the Universal Cure
Getting enough fruits and vegetables, sunshine, omega fatty acids, and vitamins will help mitigate my issues, but the can’t cure messed up brain chemistry. Trying to keep a positive attitude only works if your brain has the right chemical balance to be able to have those feelings. Maybe diet, vitamins, or ultrviolet light together or alone can allow some people to get over depression but it’s not a panacea. Also ultraviolet light = skin cancer. I’ll burn before I get enough sunlight to create my own vitamin D, unfortunately. It takes about 18 minutes of exposure to mid-day sun at the latitude where I live. I burn in less than a third of that time.
I am thankful that I have found a combination of mediation that allows me to function normally with little-to-no side effects. The reason why I can appreciate the taste of fruits and vegetables, or enjoy the sunshine is because of the drugs I take everyday.
“Of course you won’t get off of them with that attitude!”
I don’t understand the push to not take prescription drugs. They’re antidepressants, not heroin or oxycontin. They allow me to fully live my life and allow the people I care for to live with me. My doctor and I have discussed seeing if I can taper one of them down to the lowest effective dose but for now I’m happy where I am.
That’s the point right there: I’m happy. If someone wants to judge me for taking pills to help keep me happy I won’t be able to change his or her mind, but I don’t particularly care. It’s my life. I only get one; I want to make the most of it.