From Saturday to Now **Updated**

So I sort of fell off the face of the blogosphere, didn't I?  This whole "I'm going to post every day for a month" isn't in the cards for me.  But let me tell you my tale of the weekend through to this morning and at least explain why the thought of putting fingers to keyboard was unbearable...

I have mentioned that I was taking steps to wrangle my anxiety to levels I could handle.  And so I saw my CNP last week.  She and I decided on a course of meds for me-based on symptoms and the meds I take to control migraine headaches.  I picked up the meds from my pharmacist on Thursday and started them that evening.  Slept like a stone (however that is).  Was quite sleepy all day Friday.  Took a two-hour nap in front of the TV Friday night.  And then I went to bed and passed out like I hadn't slept in years. 

This, my friends, is not normal. 

I woke up Saturday with the start of a migraine.  I've been getting them since I was in junior high and know the signs well.  Since I didn't intend on spending the day feeling awful, I took the prescription I have for acute treatment.  No one had told me this might not be safe.  Within an hour the headache was gone.  I was still sleepy as all get out, not hungry at all, and felt like a weak kitten.  Did a little research on my new med and discovered this was common in the first few days, but should wear off.  Took next scheduled dose and went to bed.

Woken up in the middle of the night by crying son who complained of earache.  Felt dizzy and uncoordinated (more than typical for me) as I walked to his bathroom to give him some Tylenol.  Should have been concerned.  Instead I went back to bed.  By morning I had added to the pile of symptoms a headache that wasn't a migraine, but more like someone had tied a band of iron around my skull and tightened it.  And whenever I stood, moved, or breathed with any sense of urgency the headache increased exponentially.  And I was still dizzy, uncoordinated, sleepy, and not feeling hungry (rather the opposite of hungry). 

Now I got the message that something was not right.

Started digging and researching possible problems.  Discovered that my migraine med and my new anxiety med can possibly cause a condition called Serotonin Syndrome.  I showed early symptoms.  Course of treatment was to stop all meds immediately and see if you improve.  My Sunday consisted of the following:

Couch
Pillows
Sweats
Water
Season 1 Downton Abbey (why did NO ONE tell me about this delightful show before?!)
Tea
Switch Couch
Season 2 Downton Abbey
Cursing that there were not more episodes to watch
Many, many bathroom breaks

By nightfall I was hungry (pizza). My headache had lessened to a dull ache.  I felt solid enough on my feet to wander downstairs to my family.  By Monday I actually was dressed. 

So I am back to square one.  The pharmacist confirmed my self-diagnosis and I'm waiting for the CNP to call to see what is next.  I am not going to give up.  Even if today I feel no anxiety, I know it is lurking around the corner and I do not want to let it win.

**Update**
So my CNP called last night and has me off the meds for two weeks to make sure I'm okay.  If we want to try them again, we will at that point.  I'm not so certain I do.  Too scary for me, as I cannot be without my migraine medicine in my life.  So now I'm moving on to my family practitioner, per CNP directive.  No biggie, just a change in the plan.  I'm down with that!  I'll keep y'all updated!

Happy Hour Friday the Thirteenth

Now that seems ominous, doesn't it?  Friday the Thirteenth.  You don't scare me.  Because right now you are snowing merrily outside my office window.  And it is the end of a long week.  And we get to have a three-day weekend.  So I'll take your number thirteen, thank you.

What a week it has been!  One that was so busy I didn't even realize Friday had rolled around until I was dressing for work this morning and thought about what to wear.  (Friday = denim in my world)  I have worked like crazy while in my office-processing applications for our career tech school, sending copies of transcripts out, preparing for scheduling for next year, talking about freshman orientation, writing grants.  On the homefront it was a busy week too-we have been a party of two mostly, as my other half is stuck late most nights in meetings.  I think we three are all glad to see today come.  Here are a few of the things that have made this week a bit more fun than work and sleep...

We now have complete bookshelves installed in our basement-beautiful craftsman-style bookshelves.  Sooner than soon I promise a basement post riddled with photographs of my husband's beautiful work.  It is quickly becoming the center of our home!

Shoe shopping at DSW.  They may have shipped me the entirely wrong shoe, but when I returned it to the actual store in town, I walked away with not one, but two pairs of shoes for a smidgen more than my gift card amount.  Score! 

Talented friends.  A very dear family friend of ours is a very talented painter and had her art show open on Wednesday in the college in her hometown.  Jack and I were able to not only make it there, but also to deliver the painting she did for us of a 3 week old Jack sleeping on me.  It is one of my most prized possessions.  While it has been in our home for nearly one year, it still has the power to make me gasp and get misty.  (art show post coming soon too!)

Comfort food.  Dearest husband had long days at work this week, so we made sure to treat him to food he would love.  Is there anything better than a late dinner of homemade meatballs, spaghetti, pesto garlic bread and delicious red wine? 

So what things can you raise your glass in a toast to?  What delightful things are you grateful for this week?  Make sure to add them to the comment section below so we can join in the fun!  And have a delightful winter weekend! 

On Reassurance and Moving Forward

I had a lovely post all ready to go yesterday. Thought it had gone live in the evening. Sometimes technology gets the best of all of us, right? To make matters worse, the darn thing didn't even save.




Grrrrrr.



So here is yesterday's post for you...an update of sorts.



I've taken the next step forward to wellness in my battle with mean anxiety. On Wednesday I had my appointment with my nurse midwife (who is amazing and perfect). She listened. She asked questions. Like any health care practitioner worth her salt, she did an assessment. She asked for my opinions too. We laughed some, we were serious some, and mostly it felt like a good chat between friends. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have health care providers who you feel a kinship with. The very best thing she did for me on Wednesday was at the end of the appointment. She looked me right in the eyes and said that things were going to get better. Not go back to "normal" (because what is "normal" anyhow). Nope. They're going to get better.



I left with a plan. I love plans. Plans and lists. I have a follow-up appointment in April. If anything goes horrifically off track between now and then I am to call at any time. And she told me I am normal. Like many other women she treats. That this can be treated. At some point during the appointment she picked up the giant weight off my shoulders and deposited it elsewhere.



If you are struggling with any type of mental health issue, please don't do so silently. As a mental health professional (and as someone who is going through some of her own) I cannot stress enough that these are treatable and you can get better. I will be better. Better for me. Better for my family. For my friends. For every day I have faced with unbearable anxiety and stress.

Playing Pretend

Who remembers this VW commercial?  The boy who believes he is Darth Vader completely? And to keep his imagination going, dad "helps" the fantasy along a little?  I love this commercial to pieces because I loved to dress up, play pretend, go places in my imagination that were not possible as a child living in a Midwestern suburb in the 1980's.  Given a golden sunny afternoon, I would don the first long and flowing skirt I could find, a straw hat, throw my hair into a bun, and become my own version of a pioneer blazing a trail from Ohio to the frontier.  Or I would be an immigrant coming to the New Country for the first time.  Or simply living in a log cabin in "olden days" as I liked to call them.  Sometimes I'd steal away to one of the empty lots in our neighborhood where there was a flatbed trailer and imagine I lived near the seashore and it was my fishing vessel.  Creeks and ponds were my friends.  Woods were best pals with me.  And if the weather did not cooperate, to the basement I went.  I had all the proper tools as well-slates, a slate pencil, a Goody Reader, a rag doll, reproduction dollar bills, even pretend homemade soap (that is another post entirely!).  With parents who found historical sites to be good vacation side trips, I had gift shops at my disposal for "artifacts."  And bookshelves filled with Laura Ingalls Wilder, American Girl (Kirsten, thank you very much), a series about a pioneering family from Ohio that headed to Oregon, and a few child picture books about Colonial Williamsburg and Sturbridge Village, I felt I was the resident expert on historical accuracy. 

While my son does not hold the same fascination for pioneering life that I once did, I see the same spark of imagination growing in him.  Last night I snuck down to stand outside of his playroom to spy.  In place of my world of rag dolls and slate pencils he has a world filled with spies and superheroes.  I had sewing and cooking.  He has blast-offs and flight paths.  The older I got, the less magical the world of imagination became.  But watching him so immersed in his world is every bit as magical.  Whatever it takes to keep the magic alive for our little man, I am all in.

7 Things on a Tuesday Morning

Because it is a ponderous Tuesday morning...here is a list of randomness for you. 

1. Those Black Eyed Susans were in my dreams last night.  Yes, I am already dreaming about working in my garden.  That particular planting of them happens to be right outside my bedroom window.  They are also my son's favorite flower. I adore them as well.

2. He made me a Black Eyed Susan at school this year.  Out of a paper plate.  I am thinking it is supposed to be a sunflower, but his point of reference is drifts of the afore mentioned flowers.  And he carefully brought home the bright yellow paper plate flower for me to "hang in my office" where I gaze at it right now.

3. I am vaguely blue that the college football season has come to a close.  I love the sound of a game in the background.  The thrill of overtime.  Even when it is not one of my teams.  Till next fall.

4. Tomorrow a dear friend is having her art show open and a painting of me and baby boy will be in it.  This is beyond cool. 

5. I miss Doc Martens.  I miss the substantial weight of those shoes.  The commanding presence they had on your feet.  And my Doc Mary Janes.  Those were cool and grunge at once.  I miss the 90's.

6. I miss flannel shirts too.  But not carpenter jeans.  Or overalls.

7. I hope muddy March is as sunshiney as this January has been.  But I think by typing that out I have cursed us.

Happy Tuesday all!

Clairity

Image courtesy The Vintage Perfume Vault

Fellow women who were teenagers in the age of NKOTB, The Wonder Years, pegged jeans, penny loafers, scrunch socks, stirrup pants, and Boyz2Men...does the above advertisement look familiar to you?  Remember those Noxzema ads of the early 90's with Rebbecca Gayhart of the perfect skin?  I can almost smell the Noxzema just looking at this image, feel that slippery, cool, smooth lotion under my fingers when I see that jar.  Each time I cracked open a jar of Noxzema I felt the promise of perfect skin come over me.  I looked into the mirror with hope.  I would run my fingers over my cheeks hoping for no telltale bumps. 

Oh what I wouldn't give for the skin of adolescence.  And no, I am not bemoaning wrinkles.  Those don't bother me.  What everyone failed to inform me about was that I would be stricken with pimples after I turned 30.  Seriously.  What? I mean, I may not have been popular by any stretch of the imagination in school.  I didn't have perfect clothes and shoes.  I never had a designer purse.  And I never, ever carried a pager like all the cool kids did.  Yet I had glowing, smooth, lovely skin that was dappled by nutmeg freckles.  That skin carried me into college and my early adulthood.  I was kind to it.  I washed it faithfully.  Moisturized it.  Masked it.  Sunscreened it.  And for all the care I took, it repays me with zits.  Yes, the scourge of adolescents everywhere.  Zits. 

If only a perfect blue jar of Noxzema was the answer.  If only twisting off that lid and applying the cool white lotion to my face each night would banish those bumps for good, I would have a warehouse of it in the bathroom.  But it doesn't.  Nothing seems to work.  Can someone point this almost middle-aged lady to the product which will cure, well, um, middle-aged zits?

Harrumph.

The week to come...

Sunday nights around here are a little bittersweet.  The opposite of Friday nights.  Today was really blissful.  I spent most of it driving around town in the sunshine, running errands, listening to springtimey music.  We had family over for dinner-steak and potatoes and homemade pies.  Yet with the setting of the sun the realization sets in that our weekend of family time has drawn to a close and the work week is gearing up.  This weekend a little garden planning has been done, a lot of lounging has commenced, some sleeping in took place, many snuggles were given, our bookshelves were built, groceries were purchased, even laundry was finished.  Overall it was as perfect a weekend as you can get.  So bring it on Monday...I am ready to rise AND to shine.

Plann(t)ing for Spring

Today is a gloriously sunny Saturday in January.  A rarity for Northwestern Ohio.  Not only is it a sunny day, but it is warmer than average, it hasn't snowed much at all this winter, and we have had a stretch of sunshine that would rival any week in the springtime.  Needless to say we are all walking around with bated breath, telling ourselves the "big one" is right around the corner.  Snow blowers at the ready, loaves of bread and gallons of milk stocked.

We have issues, clearly.

But today I am not thinking about snowstorms, blizzards, or even snow days (those thoughts are reserved for my 5am alarm call, screaming into my perfectly peaceful and cozy sleeping time...but that is another post entirely.)  No, today I am going to snuggle down onto the couch with a few of my favorite seed catalogues, a notebook, and my garden planner.  Today I will start the process of planning next season's vegetable garden.  Last year I did relatively well until the fall when the wheels of life came off and I forgot about such things as heirloom tomatoes, perfect peppers and winding vines of butternut squashes.  I will have a big mess come spring.  But for now I am in a blissful mode of gardens without weeds or tomato hornworms.  (those things make me squeal and squirm...gross.)  Today I will make lists of fish peppers, Cherokee purple tomatoes, purple zinnias, sweet peas, and more.  Sooner rather than later it will be time to start seeds in the dark of winter.  Before I know it I'll have a basement room filled with the scent of baby tomato plants.  If there is anything that combats the doldrums of winter, it is starting your garden early.  Happy planting friends!

One of my favorite sources Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds

Happy Hour Friday January 6

I had abandoned this lovely little writing assignment I'd given myself, for reasons I cannot even articulate.  Because there aren't any.  Well maybe because it was an assignment and once something becomes work and moves out of the arena of fun I feel a little rebellious.  Which is ridiculous because I made this up!  (bangs head on desk)

Anyhow, back to happy hour (clink of glasses in background, sounds of live band playing, murmur of crowd) I hope that sets the mood for you...

It hasn't been the easiest week for me personally.  However, there are still things I can raise a glass to.  Things that made me laugh, made me feel all warm and fuzzy.  Reasons to raise my head off the pillow each morning and put one foot in front of the other in the pursuit of moving forward.  So, without further adieu...

Here's to beautiful January Ohio sunrises.  There is simply something about a barren landscape, farm fields swept bare of their crops, ink black trees standing against orangey-pink-purpley skies.  Sure, summer sunsets are sensual and stunning.  But the sunrises as I drive to work in the winter have a simple beauty to them that can take your breath away.  They don't need all the frills of July to make them perfect.

Good talks with besties.  I may be losing one of my dearest friends at work this week (she is moving on to greener pastures-props to her on an awesome new job!) but I know I won't lose her friendship.  Even in her last week here, we have had a few of our good heart-to-heart afternoon chats that always make me feel better. 

Being blessed to have a son who is developing a killer sense of humor.  Yes, for now it is all about silly jokes (pete & repeat stood on a bridge...) and farts. But he also has a keen sense about sarcasm for a four year-old.  This slays me.  Who knew a delightful side effect of parenting would be laughing till your sides hurt?

And finally, a husband who remains my steadying force.  Just when I feel that my ship is about to tip, he rights me.  There are days when I don't even know how I was lucky enough to have him stumble into my life.  Why he picked me.  I am one fortunate woman.

Is my plate full right now? You bet.  Am I feeling overwhelmed and frazzled?  Absolutely.  But when I step back and look at all the goodness in my days it certainly helps.  So raise a glass (or coffee mug, water bottle, or juice box) with me and join in with some of your reasons to celebrate the week.  Happy happy hour y'all!

Putting One Foot In Front Of the Other

I really loved today's NaBloPoMo prompt "what is the hardest part about a beginning?"  It followed yesterday's post so well, I decided to ponder it for a bit.  Yesterday I took a deep breath and opened the door on a subject I have been very hesitant to talk about...my struggles with anxiety.  And what happened?  Lots of things, of course.  First-I worried about it. (duh) What does one who struggles with anxiety do, naturally?! I worried about what people would think when they read what I'd written.  That I would get all sorts of feedback telling me to suck it up, and to quit whining.  (for the record, that did NOT happen and the comments were exactly the lifeline I needed.  y'all are amazing and wonderful!)  Second, I got stuck for most of the day.  I plopped this statement out there and then couldn't move, so to speak.  I didn't know what to do next.  Even once I'd gotten home I found myself starting and stopping most of the evening.  Thank god for a husband who loves me as much as mine does.  If not for him, I'd still be leaning up against the living room wall wondering if I should take a bath, make a mug of coffee, or continue to stand and listen to CNN.  (face palm!)  Third, and this is the most important, I decided on what my next step is going to be...

I am going to be making a phone call today to my nurse midwife.  No...I am not pregnant!  However, I think she is the best place to start.  So much of this is cyclical (with random offshoots that I think aren't very frequent at all).  I think she will be a much better place to begin.  Plus, she is holistic in her approach to healing, which I really love.  If she cannot help me, she will certainly be able to point me in the right direction, as she has done before.  I am a bit nervous to make the call (drat to you anxiety) but at the same time feel myself getting control over the run away train my life feels like right now.  And that my friends is my answer to today's prompt.  Getting control over the beginning to figure out what my second, third and subsequent steps will be.  That's the hardest part for me.  Once I have that figured out, I'm good to go.  But beginnings, they overwhelm me.

I would like to thank each and every one of you who sent me comments yesterday.  I cannot tell you what a lifeline they were.  I know we hear so often that the Internet is a wretched place, but yesterday you proved that theory wrong.  You reached out across the expanse of social media to comfort a person you've never met.  That means more than you might ever know.  Thank you, from the bottomest of my grateful heart.

Just Breathe

This cursor is mocking me.

I thought today's post through over and over as I drove, not certain how I would attack it.  If I would even write it.  But I think that if I write it, I will feel better.

I hope.

I have come into the grips of some terrifically terribly-awful anxiety over the past year or so.  It ebbs and flows. At first I thought it was seasonal...winter blues.  I just needed some sunshine and warmth then I'd be all good. Then I thought it was totally PMS related.  It seemed that way at least.  Sometimes it was worse than others.  As in, sometimes I can function and only feel mildly anxious and sometimes I feel like my skin is melting off my body and I can't run away fast enough from this feeling.  I've only talked to one human being about this so far.  My perfect and amazing husband.  I'm afraid that the more I talk about it, the bigger it will get.  Yet, I'm becoming less and less functional.  How crazy is that?  You want to know the worst part...

I'm a mental health professional.

Yep.  I know better.  I know that you cannot make mental health problems better by ignoring them.  They are just like physical health problems.  I cannot "cure" this on my own.  I don't know exactly what triggers my anxiety. I don't typically see it coming either.  But when it hits, oh man.  All I can think about is how to breathe.  How to slow my pulse.  How to stop that burning chest feeling.  I want to run into a cave and hide, but I know that if I ever had that chance it would just be me alone with my crazy whirling brain.  Not a good combo when you are filled with anxiety. 

My husband has asked me what makes me so anxious.  I don't have the answers.  Sometimes I am worried about what a bad parent I am.  Sometimes I worry about all the things I've failed at.  Sometimes it is family things.  I have extremely high standards for myself, and have yet to live up to them.  So this worries me.  Then sometimes it is bizarre things, like the other night when I was trying to fall asleep and the newscaster was talking about the Mayan Calendar and our world ending this year.  That really did me in. Couldn't sleep.  Worried about all the things I hadn't done yet and the life left unlived. 

I do feel a bit better writing about this.  It seems less scary now that I see it in black and white.  I cannot live my life riddled with crippling periods of anxiety and fear.  It isn't fair to the people I love.  It isn't fair to me either.  I know that I need to figure out how to cope with it in a way that is healthy.  So this will be the year I do so.  I promise.  I promise you, I promise my family, I promise myself. 

Beginnings and Endings

Who loves the movie Sleepless in Seattle? This morning I was thinking about the scene where Tom Hanks starts dating again and the song "Back in the Saddle" plays over him making the phone call.  Only I was driving back to work after a two-week break.  School buses were on the road again.  Kids were standing at the edge of driveways in their winter coats.  My travel mug was off the shelf and filled with steaming hot coffee.  It is the start of the second half of our school year (already? What?!) and for me, the busier half of the year.  The part where we schedule our entire student body for next year, do our state-wide testing, process applications for our career-tech school, have graduation, awards ceremonies, and more.  Just thinking about it makes my head spin.  My mantra from now until summer will be "eventually June will come and it will all end." 

So I am at the beginning of the winter season of school life.  Outside all is cold, quiet and calm.  Inside we are a busting beehive of energy.  Ready to take on the meaty portion of the year.  Yet it is also the end of something for me.  A dear friend of mine is moving on to another job at the end of this week.  While I couldn't be happier for her, as it is a huge step up in her career path and she deserves all the recognition that comes with this new position, I am sad to see her go.  In every sense of the word, she's my cubicle mate.  The one who shares my morning "what our kids did to make us crazy" stories.  The friend I share shopping tips with.  A sympathetic ear who is two feet from my chair when I need it.  I will miss her terribly come Friday when she leaves. 

Yet move forward we must.  The pile of work in front of me will not grow smaller, no matter how much effort I put into blogging today.  Sadly, I will stop typing and return to actual paper and pen for a while.  I know, I know...I'll feel better when it is done. 

NaBloPoMo-or my writing resolution!

waving...

So I have had a serious case of the writer's block the past few months.  And as I'm wont to do, instead of confronting my stressors, I hide in a cave.  With blogging that translated to not logging in.  Not writing.  Not reading my favorite blogs and commenting on them.  Not tweeting to my favorite bloggers.  And then feeling uber guilty about all of this because I love blogging.  And I love my fellow bloggers.  So I decided to add a teensy resolution to my annual-take each day one day at a time-resolution.  I am joining up with BlogHer's NaBloPoMo's January challenge and pledging to get back on the writing wagon.  So I missed day one (whoops!).  But in the spirit of full disclosure, I was recovering yesterday.  Here is what I was recovering from...

Chookooloonks Rum Punch

I did know what I was doing when I made it.  I even posted on twitter to Karen that I was making it.  She warned me to take keys of our guests upon arrival.  Problem for me was that I wasn't driving anywhere.  And it tasted so good.  So.  Good.  And we were having so much fun.  Laughing so hard.  And our kids kept getting more hysterical as the night wore on.  So yesterday I was recovering from a wee bit too much of the punch.  Or something like that.

Today the holiday decor is coming down as our first quasi-snowfall is coming down.  I don't think it can be counted as a real snowfall, as I still see blades of grass and cars moving along.  Nope, until the drifts cover our porch and the county sheriff department declares snow emergencies, it isn't real.  But it does look pretty outside today.  And I'm back at the keyboard, which does feel rather lovely.  I hope I haven't lost everyone!

Happy 2012 from the middle!  See y'all tomorrow!