These are my thoughts. They are not meant to make sense. They are my echo into the woods. I am the tree that falls, and it is here that I make a sound.
Most recent babblings

The history of babble of the modern psychotic blonde

Warps to others, warped and otherwise
Sanity Optional
Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Not Sure

Lots of noise today. My ears are ringing. I don't know why.

Strange.

Fine otherwise though.
Monday, April 25, 2005

Medication update

Friday night, Adam, Rob and I went and saw Kung Fu Hustle. For some reason it's rated R in the States, but is 14A here (under 14 needs adult accompaniment). Because of the timing of the movie, I didn't get my Seroquel dose until probably 10:15, an hour late. Which meant my sleep was off.

Saturday the dog and I went for the run while Rob went into work to catch up some. Rob then came home and we did groceries. I felt okay then. Not fabulous, not bad, just okay. He wanted a roast for dinner so I made roast beef with potatoes and carrots and home made biscuits. Then he said maybe we'd go see the movie The Interpreter, with Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn. He was laying on the bed watching a Ramstein DVD a friend had loaned him and I came and curled up with him. He kept asking me if I was okay and I really said nothing. I couldn't lie but didn't want to let him know what was going through my head.

I finally asked him he minded if we didn't go out. He said sure, I knew there was something wrong. Just tell me what something is wrong he said. But where my head was at, I couldn't speak it, you know? Does anyone else get that? That the thoughts, the headspace you're in, you just cannot form the words to convey it? Some of it is fear: you will think I'm insane if I tell you. But some of it I don't know why I can't speak it. Maybe if I say it and expose my head to the light of sane day, the light will show how dark and diseased it is? Who knows.

We stayed home. He said over and over again "You're tired, you need sleep". I wouldn't admit to being tired. But he finally got me to take my Seroquel dose almost an hour early. I did and was asleep by 8.45.

I slept okay. I remember tossing and turning a bit, which is unusual on Seroquel. That stuff has such a strong sedative effect I never wake up during the night.

Sunday morning woke up at 6.45 am - still not 100% but better. Rob woke around 9. I finally told him around 11 what was going through my head the day before: I didn't want to go to the movie because I was positive that everyone was going to be looking at me, talking about me, and I couldn't take it. He said ah, I see. So are we still paranoid, he asked. I was a little but all I said was, I'm better than yesterday, which wasn't a lie. I also told him that was the same reason (the paranoia) why I didn't go to my cousin's fiancee's bridal shower about a month ago. And this paranoia is tied in part to my appearance: whenever it surfaces, it circles round the issue of my weight gain etc.

Rob said he's noticed that since the medication change, things are happening more frequently (meaning the mood cycles). I said: is that bad? He said: it makes me worry more. And I said don't say that because I don't want you to worry and that will just make me not tell you things because I don't want to worry you further. He said, oh, I figure things out even if you don't tell me.

In a week, Rob is on vacation. I also have my next appt with the little tiny Napoleon pdoc then. I want Rob to come with me. He's not seen this doctor since I was hospitalised in September 2003. I want Rob to be there to back me up when I explain that I've lowered my medication on my own. Rob said - we have to get these cycles under control. I started pleading: I need you to back me up. He said: I will if we can get these to slow down. I said I need you to back me up - they're manageable. I just need sleep and consistent medication. Please back me up. Ok, he said, they are manageable, but we need to work on them. Are you going to back me up? Yes, he said, I'll back you up.

We went to my final hockey game of the winter season for my Sunday league.

By the time the game was done I WAS GREAT. Rob said I played a fantastic game (hockey speak coming up so please forgive the phrases, just nod if you don't get it): I was playing centre and I won every face off, I got the puck on the far boards and was able to deke two players out of their jills before being picked by a third, who shot it back into our area, but our D shot it back out again, I chased it on a breakaway, their goalie had to come 15 feet out of the net to play the puck (their D was well behind me) and she got to it a milisecond before I did, stuff like that.

We got home, I made chocolate brownies. ARGH! I start to swing upwards again a bit and here I am making food that'll just make my ass bigger from the aroma of the chocolate alone. Maybe I can convince Rob to take them to work. On the way home I said to Rob: See? These are manageable, I'm better now. He said, yeah, we'll see. I said you said you'd back me up.

Doctor's in a week and a half (the appt is either Tuesday or Wednesday next week). I'm going to try my damnedest to stay as even as I can for that intervening time. So Rob can look at this latest little blip with a little more long term perspective.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
This is Blue and I on the way to a lovely park along the Credit River here where I live. It's pouring rain, but I haven't run with Blue in a long time, and running in the rain is actually very calming. I've got some energy to burn today, and the dog is by nature more hyper than I am, so off we go. Notice how much room I have in my rearview mirror: ALL DOG, ALL THE TIME. Oh yes, and this picture was taken while I was at a stop sign - don't worry, all pedestrians and other vehicles were safe. Posted by Hello
Blue was whining so loud at this point, wanting to go outside and run (I'm in the muddy parking lot of the park), that I thought I was going to go deaf. And no, there's nothing wrong with her eyes: she has one blue one and one brown one. Posted by Hello
This is my feet after the run. They look FAIRLY clean, but they're soaking wet. Trust me. Posted by Hello
This is Blue's feet after the run. Nice, eh? Posted by Hello
This is Blue in the back of my little Hyundai accent just after our run. She's standing on the fold down part of the back seat. Don't worry, she's got more room than that: about that much floor space again if I close the hatch. Posted by Hello
The weather today isn't the best. But what is a girl to do when she has energy to burn and is allergic to housework? Posted by Hello
Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Benedict

ben·e·dict ( P ) Pronunciation Key (bn-dkt)
n.
A newly married man who was previously considered a confirmed bachelor.[After Benedick, a character in Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare.]


According to the The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.

A hardline Catholic conservative was a prince of the church. Now, he is married not only to the theology that supports the dome of the Sistine Chapel, but is more so to the more than 1 billion Catholics that await his lead.

His policies are clear. We are going to go nowhere fast. Which is in a sense okay, because politics and religion shouldn't mix. But they will. Forever are they inseparable, because politics are the inevitable child of any human interraction.

He stated in his mass today that he will bring together the Christians separated by 1000 years of divergence. I wonder how that will play in the American Bible Belt? As a friend once said to me: that will go over like a fart in church.

Just a few thoughts of an atheist history major who has studied and been fascinated by the Catholic church for years.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Checking in

Yep, I'm still around.

As for the comments about how I can do that in one day, LOL. A few things to keep in mind:

Motherhood requires energy. Ask your mom. Ask any mom.

I had always been prone to mania. The reduction in my meds has allowed a productive hypomania to creep in.

The meds also didn't just even my moods out: they reduced or eliminated my motivation. So the reduction didn't just increase my energy, it increased motivation to do things with that energy.

And yes, Michele, I was doing all that AND sleeping from 10 to 6.45. If I wasn't taking the seroquel, however, that wouldn't be the case.

How are things now?

Good. Today, I am incredibly tired. Monday night I had a bit of trouble falling asleep, even debated surfing the net for a bit while Rob snored away beside me, but then the Seroquel caught up.

He's been noticing me being a LOT more talkative. I asked him if that bothers him and he said no, because, prior to my diagnosis, it was how he always knew I was happy, in a good mood, that I was talkative. So, if I'm talkative, he says I'm happy, which makes him happy.

I have watched my money (for those few that don't know - spending money you don't have is a classic sign of mania). I have the odd urge to spend. But I'm keeping tight reins on it. I have gone onto eBay getting jewelry supplies but force myself to bid on things that only have a few minutes left so that half the time by the time I read all the details, the auction is closed. Stuff like that. And it's working: I'm not spending much at all. I'm even starting to spread out the purchases for the month of June (everyone has a month like this: Adam's birthday is the 22nd, my mom's is the 23rd, Father's Day is in there, and my father's birthday is the 30th). So I've bought a few things for Adam this pay, and will do that little by little so I'm not broke all at once. But it's not my idea - Rob gets the credit for that one.

Rob's wondering if I've tired myself by being "up" for so long.

I said no. I'm allowed to have one day of being tired, aren't I?

He said, then I'm sure you'll be fine tomorrow, right?

I said yes.

And I'm sure as hell going to work hard to make sure I am. I don't want to give him evidence that I'm anything other than tired. And I am pretty sure that's all it is. No bad thoughts. No real problems with self-image (other than those that most women my age and status carry around as baggage, mentally ill or not). But I still found the energy to work out on Rob's new weight machine for 15 minutes and then ride the stationary bike downstairs for 40 more. So I guess fatigue is relative.

Rob's gone out to watch a friend's hockey game. Adam's in the shower. Then I'm hitting the hay once Adam's out and settled.

Hope all is well with you.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005

A Day In The Life

of a low-grade hypomanic mom/wife/professional (professional what we're not sure)

6.45 am wake up
6.50 first coffee, make a bowl of oatmeal
6.55 eat oatmeal
7.00 second cup of coffee
7.05 reply to email from mom who advised she and Dad made it to Florida (they drove)
7.10 wake up son for school
7.15 make breakfast for son
7.20 realise lunches weren't made last night, so make lunch for son
7.30 get dressed for work after getting son to sit down
7.40 get son out the door for school, just after husband leaves
7.45 leave for work
8.20 arrive at work
12.00 lunch - drive to bank nearby to get US money order
12.30 stop at Subway to get wrap
12.45 arrive back at work, eat lunch
1.00 back at work
5.07 leave work
5.40 back at home
5.45 change clothes and go for run (just shy of 3 miles)
6.13 cool down walk in front of house
6.20 make cheese tortellini with homemade cheese sauce for Adam for dinner
6.40 Adam eats dinner
6.41 make sandwich and salad for myself for dinner
7.00 finish eating, have shower
7.20 put in laundry
7.30 sign Adam's homework
7.40 put laundry in dryer, put 2nd load in
7.45 make instant pudding for lunches for the remainder of the week, divying up into four separate containers
8.00 do dishes
8.10 make lunches for tomorrow
8.20 set up coffee maker for tomorrow
8.25 rotate laundry - washer to dryer, dryer to hamper
8.35 sit and catch last 1/2 hr of CSI repeat with Adam
9.00 Adam asks me to watch Family guy with him
9.10 take Seroquel
9.30 Family Guy done - Adam goes into shower
9.40 Adam comes out of shower, into bed
9.55 I'm done typing and off to bed myself.

I'm not seriously hypomanic but there's a definite increase in energy since meds change. Rob's still watching. So far so good.

Copyright © 2005 Blondzila (because no one else would own this).

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