This week I got to go see my psychiatrist to see how my medication is working. And yes, I too am part of the prozac generation although I resisted that designation for a very long time. Finally, when the panic attacks became too much and I got awfully tired of battling depression on a regular basis, I had to call in the calvary for some help.
The psychiatrist asked me how things were going (as if he could really tell a whole lot from 15 minutes of time with me every three months, but ah well!), and I told him that I was happy with my current medication. What with the complete lack of stability in my world these days, I know that without the pills, I'd be a nutcase. In fact, as I told him, I can feel the depression and anxiety, but thankfully it's over here floating in a cloud just beyond the barrier of Prestiq and Clonozepam. I don't like the weight that anti-depressants seem to adhere to my butt, but I do like being non-suicidal. And these days, with the stabilizing help of drugs, my GI system is not the happiest in the world. the little bundle of nerves governing that section of my body is in all kinds of an uproar about the amount of stress I'm carrying around with me.
Will I get the job, or not? If so, can I get to Alabama and be ready for school before it starts? If not, will things go ok here in Texas? Can I get my book ready, can I get that non-profit working? What does the future hold for me? And would it hurry up and just let me know already?? That person that I may have let past my walls and guards - why is he screwing with me now? Seriously, it's enough to make a sane person go crazy. And a crazy, IBS-living person might stray farther from the path of sanity. But then again, sanity just might be overrated.
In the meantime, I'm doing all sorts of relaxation techniques I've learned over the years. Yoga and I are becoming very very good friends this week, and running in the hot Texas nights is becoming a norm. Exercise, yoga, and a bit of too many cookies will help me get through this period of instability, both in life and in the body. I'm also going to start another blog here on quotes I find in books I read. I read far more than the average person, and I'm always stumbling across quotes that I would like to work with someday or that at the very least, should be shared with others.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Saga continuation
Last week, while I was on my way to Austin to visit folks, I nearly died in my car. I was on the service road of I-35, and wasn't paying attention to the road. To be so incredibly middle-class, I was looking for a Starbucks that the sign on the highway told me was off this exit. I was so concerned with looking for the entrance to the coffee shop that I didn't notice the light had turned from green to yellow to red. I looked up, freaked, tried to stop, realized that wasn't going to work, and then went through the light. I could have been killed, or worse, killed someone else. And all because I really wanted a cup of coffee. How pathetic.
But I was reminded again this past week that sometimes that person who sped through the light might be a dumbass like I was while looking for some coffee, but sometimes that person has a pressing need. (Need I say that defensive driving is a good thing?) The last post I made, about the the day I took the GRE, was also the last time I went straight through a red light. That time, though, there was a reason beyond coffee.
After I took the GRE, I continued down the road to go visit my friend Laura, who lived in Houston at the time and worked at Compaq. While well equipped with my toilet paper in the car for the trip, I was already emotionally and physically exhausted, and this was also in a time before I lost all sense of modesty. Laura was going to meet me after a 3/4 day at work at her apartment, but she wasn't there when I arrived. No problem, right? I've got AC in the truck and music to listen to, right? Well, yes, if you disregard the tiny little problem that presented itself forcefully in my gut shortly after ringing the doorbell to no avail. Oh shit. Literally.
I knocked on the people's door across the way - no luck. I went to my truck, thinking I could spot a place to do some business - no luck. The parking lot and apartment building was a wide-open field with windows and doors and pitifully few cars for cover. I jumped in my truck, sped out of the parking lot, ran two redlights and swerved across traffic in order to get to the Church's chicken store right down the road. I made it to the bathroom, which I'm happy about. But now when I think of it, I wonder what the price could have been.
After that, I called my friend and told her to call me back when she got home. I wasn't moving out of that joint until I knew I was able to go inside her apartment. I don't think I left her apartment again during that visit. I let the anxiety at my IBS issues take control. It wasn't the first time I did that nor the last.
But I was reminded again this past week that sometimes that person who sped through the light might be a dumbass like I was while looking for some coffee, but sometimes that person has a pressing need. (Need I say that defensive driving is a good thing?) The last post I made, about the the day I took the GRE, was also the last time I went straight through a red light. That time, though, there was a reason beyond coffee.
After I took the GRE, I continued down the road to go visit my friend Laura, who lived in Houston at the time and worked at Compaq. While well equipped with my toilet paper in the car for the trip, I was already emotionally and physically exhausted, and this was also in a time before I lost all sense of modesty. Laura was going to meet me after a 3/4 day at work at her apartment, but she wasn't there when I arrived. No problem, right? I've got AC in the truck and music to listen to, right? Well, yes, if you disregard the tiny little problem that presented itself forcefully in my gut shortly after ringing the doorbell to no avail. Oh shit. Literally.
I knocked on the people's door across the way - no luck. I went to my truck, thinking I could spot a place to do some business - no luck. The parking lot and apartment building was a wide-open field with windows and doors and pitifully few cars for cover. I jumped in my truck, sped out of the parking lot, ran two redlights and swerved across traffic in order to get to the Church's chicken store right down the road. I made it to the bathroom, which I'm happy about. But now when I think of it, I wonder what the price could have been.
After that, I called my friend and told her to call me back when she got home. I wasn't moving out of that joint until I knew I was able to go inside her apartment. I don't think I left her apartment again during that visit. I let the anxiety at my IBS issues take control. It wasn't the first time I did that nor the last.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)