Archive for July, 2009

Rabbit holes

As in, I sure fell down one for the past week or so.  In a good way for a change, though.  A productive way.  A change out of sweat pants way.  An I haven’t cried since the 13th way (which, let me tell you, is some sort of record lately.)  And so here is an attempt at a proper update…

First, in the ‘garden’…we have our first marigold bloom!  The geranium is budding and should be gorgeous by next weekend.  The cucumber is full and lovely, the nasturtium as well.  Our black dragon coleus is getting tall and I think may be ready for transplant.  Alas, the moonflower doesn’t seem to be doing as well–we had a bloom last week but it faded really quickly and now the plant is looking really sad 😦

From Lucy’s gardening program we have acquired several new plants–a teeny basil and a terrarium with two plants I haven’t tried to identify and another coleus.  I am sad that we are down to her last week, although I plan to do some hauling around to museums in our month off.

Second, the brain.  I am coming up on 2 weeks on meds.  So far so good–I had really low-grade headaches on a couple of days and sometimes I get a little dizzy (like standing up too quickly) but otherwise I have been free of side effects.  I am making sure to drink water to avoid dry mouth too.  I feel…normal.  I have emotions but they aren’t overwhelming.  I get nervous, angry, sad, excited but not to the same super-edge level I tend toward.  It’s been nice.  I’m getting more done with less angst and am not as unwound when I don’t get things done.

Best of all, I feel like I can concentrate on school stuff, which was getting to be a huge problem.  I read two entire books in the past two weeks and I can tell you what I read.  This is especially fortuitous as I have registered for classes for next semester and am attempting 5 classes in order to start 2010 as  a junior.

To make a long story short,  after my head cleared from the breakdown fog I came to the conclusion that I accomplish more when I am busy.  Couple this with the fact that I would end the year 2 credits shy of my junior year if I only take 4 classes and a decision was born.  It’s going to be tough but I think I’ll be happy having done it.  And if it isn’t impossible, I’ll be able to finish school that much sooner.  All in all, a good decision I think.  And if not, it’s only for 3 months.

Third, I finally bit the bullet and got the hair cut.  I have about a foot of braid to send to Locks of Love, which makes me feel almost as good as not waking up with my hair in square knots.

And that is just about that.  I am what would have been giddy before meds, which is I guess what happy feels like without the fear of it turning into anxiousness.

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I’m waiting for the man super of the building to come and look at the shower.   I am no longer waiting to find out if we can go to CSA pick-up (baby’s asleep).  I am waiting for the All-Star Game (tho I am not sure why…)  I am waiting to find out if Chico wakes up ready to party at 9:45.  I am waiting for a busy morning tomorrow (taking Lucy to her class and then I have to get blood work in exchange for my new happy pills).  I am waiting for a phone call.


I have been officially declared depressed.  It’s kind of refreshing.  I mean, I knew I was and it clearly wasn’t getting better on its own.  But to have a professional speak to ya and say “hey, this will help with your depression!” is very reassuring.


The baby is asleep.  This either means that he is so exhausted from two days of FUN FUN FUN with NotMommy or that he’s going to wake up just about as I am getting ready to pass out.  I fear the latter.


I don’t like needles.  I really wish I wasn’t having to do a bunch of blood work tomorrow.  I also wish that nerves didn’t make me write sentences like the one I just wrote.


This is all I have.  I hate waiting.  But the baby woke up so there’s always that.

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I have recently come upon BlissChick whose words never fail to give me something to think about as I’m carrying on this process of trying to make myself happy.  This morning is no exception, and is cosmically timely, as I have reentered therapy, this time able to admit that I am depressed and that I desperately want to stop gauging my worth based on what other people think of me.  So who would I be if nobody ever told me who I was?

One of the most beautiful things about kirtan is that it has taken away my fear of being a bad singer.  I have gone from a person who was afraid to sing in my apartment lest the neighbors hear me and be horrified at how badly I sing to being a person who can sit in a room full of strangers and belt out songs in Sanskrit.  I am a person who loves to sing, even though it is not something I excel at.

I think, despite having been told I need to write since a young age, that I would still be a writer.  Or, rather, that I would still identify writing as one of my passions.

I have a long-held fear of being perceived as ungrateful.  This is ironic since I spend a great deal of time feeling as though I have to prove that I deserve love/help/friendship/attention.  If I didn’t have that fear ingrained in me, I would be a person who could take graciously while giving graciously.

I would probably still be emotional and prone to fear.

I would probably not avoid looking at myself in the mirror when I am wearing my glasses or not wearing make-up.

I would still think love is the foundation of life.

I would probably love myself without having to prove to myself that I’m worthy of it.

I would still want to do things well.

I would probably not feel worthless if I make a mistake or have an off day.

I would still give myself more things to get accomplished than I was likely to be able to finish.

I would not look at what I hadn’t finished and think I had let someone down by not finishing.

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