Summer and junk

Blink and summer break is over. And I thought I would be posting updates of the fun we had as we were having it, but I guess that was not to be.

In short--it was a lovely summer. The a/c has logged in many hours. The kids are tanner, taller and bug-bitten. The grass is drying and dying. We are ready for school to be back in session--thankfully today was the first day of school.

So now that things are kicking back into gear, it seems life is coming back in order for me personally. I indicated in an earlier post about my unique diagnosis of premenstrual dysphoric disorder, of which depression is part of the package. Whether tied together or not, I developed full-blown depression over the past couple of years. Thankfully, I am dealing with moderate depression so the medication I have been taking the past two months coupled with therapy sessions are helping me feel "normal," balanced and in control.

What seem like simple, practical tasks were difficult or impossible for me to do, such as picking up the house, be productive at work, washing dishes, take a shower, have any desire to get out of bed. I gained a lot of weight because my eating habits were trashed. I didn't care what I looked like anyway. I couldn't put the kids to bed because I didn't have the patience to deal with them if they misbehaved. I wasn't interested in playing with them or be in the moment. Even when I was in a room with others, I felt alone. I just couldn't understand how this was happening to me and I didn't know how to fix it.

Kyle did his best to help out. It took him a long time to see that something was wrong, yet it took me longer to realize just how bad it had become. How can anyone be depressed during the summer? There is no vacation just because the sun is out, I guess.

So in late June, I finally went back to see my doctor. Indeed the medication I had been on for the previous year-and-a-half lost its effectiveness or my condition evolved and wasn't meeting my new mental health needs. So she prescribed me something else and we discussed other options such as therapy. I was hesitant to seek therapy again, since my initial consult back in '08 was so disappointing. I didn't want to consult with other therapists who also felt I just had to get my shit together (like the initial psychologist more or less said to me).

Yet, it seemed that the medication alone was not going to help me move forward. So I did some more research and found a therapist who seems to be a very good fit. It's amazing what I've been able to accomplish since working with her in such short time. I always leave with one new goal in mind to address for the week and these goals have been building upon eachother such that I'm in a much better place now.

So yeah, things are looking up. I'm excited and hopeful for the next day, week and year(s).

Thanks for sticking around. I'll do my best to get back into blogging mode for you.

Quiet brings ramblings in the rambler

It's getting late. I can't recall the last time Kyle went to bed before me. He only goes before me when he is sick, as is the case this evening.


The kids are both sick too.

I took Cate back to Urgent Care this afternoon--her second trip in five days. Her fever would never go away. Finally, an ear infection was detected today. Poor girl. She was out three days of school last week and missed her first school Valentine's Day party, a school Sock Hop, her basketball game, her date with Kyle to see a play at the Children's Theater and she is now 0-for-2 on attending friend birthday parties. For the most part, she has been a real trooper. And of course, every time she so much as coughs to clear her throat, I get paranoid about her potential of having an asthmatic reaction.


Oh, Urgent Care clinic and Pediatrics office...just retain my bankcard number on file, okay?

But the quiet is nice. I'm not a morning person. No, I also believe if I tried to wake up a few minutes early to seek some solitude, it would not happen. Surely, I would hear the sound of tired little feet tripping my way, climbing up onto the couch and curling into the bend of my legs. It would be nice, but it would not be the quiet that is my companion at the moment.

It seems odd to think the hum from the lightbulb and the click-click-clicking of the handheld keyboard can be so comforting; an even more odd notion of comfort is the never-ending dull roll of the airplanes above arriving to and departing from the airport nearby.

This quiet gives me time to think. I can choose to freak out about everything I should be doing and fret about what I can't control or I can turn it around; let it go and be the best I can be each day, by being good not only to others but also to myself.

I think I am seeing progress here...

Tomorrow is coming, whether I like it or not. I choose to like it.

Hello...have we met?

I have caught wind from some of my blog followers that some of my posts have been causing concern and are downright depressing. And, by now, I think you have discovered that I live a mostly transparent life (there are a few things I choose to keep private). I say what's on my mind in the most passive-aggressive way possible--through writing. I hope that you can appreciate my candid manner and take it for what it is; for I consider you my friends.

Case in point:

I've been recently diagnosed with an interesting disorder called premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD)--it's a super-sized version of PMS. So if you've read some of my posts and / or encountered me in the past year and walked away thinking, "damn, that woman must be having PMS", you're almost right. I started to take note of a mood cycle, along with other symptoms, that evolved throughout the month every month for about a year. Don't worry, I am not going to go on a gynecological journey with you--that is one line I will not pass. First I thought my issues were dealing with my significant weight loss, work uncertainty, increased involvement at church or my daughter starting school. But it was bigger than that. I finally accepted I needed help when I couldn't even write my first and last name on a work form without practically hyper-ventilating.

So I willed myself to go to the doctor on my birthday of all days. My doctor is a sweet thing...fresh out of her residency and eager to just listen. I laid out my symptoms and she diagnosed me as having PMDD. I have had the distinct pleasure of experiencing most of the symptoms on the list:

• Mood swings
• Depressed mood or feelings of hopelessness
• Marked anger, increased interpersonal conflicts
• Tension and anxiety
• Irritability
• Decreased interest in usual activities
• Difficulty concentrating
• Fatigue
• Change in appetite
• Feeling out of control or overwhelmed
• Sleep problems
• Physical problems, such as bloating

I haven't had issues with marked anger, change in appetite or sleep problems. However, I had so much difficulty concentrating that I thought I was losing my hearing. I did take a audiology appointment and passed with flying colors.

One of the treatments for PMDD is to prescribe an anti-depressant. Wow. She passed me the written prescription and told me to fill it when the cyclical symptoms show up. It suddenly became surreal to me for a moment--I'm depressed. We talked some more and I inquired about seeing a counselor, which she gladly gave me a referral.

When I told my mom of my new diagnosis, I think I made her uncomfortable. Her general response was, "Well, you should continue to exercise. I understand exercise can help you feel better."

When I told my husband and asked him not to tell anyone in his family, he obliged me. I told a couple of close friends because they had noticed something wasn't quite right about me and expressed concern.

I didn't want to tell any more people than necessary at the time because I was embarrassed.

I was embarrassed because my life is quite simple and burden free. I think of my friends who moved cross-country, ended up living with family and can't sell their house in this economy. I think of my aunt who has pancreatic cancer. I think of my friend who hates her job, works crazy hours, isn't happy with where she is at this point in her life. I think of my other friend who went through hell and back trying to conceive a child on her own. I think of family and friends who lost pregnancies, lost jobs or whatever curveball life pitched them.

Those are real problems.

For me to be unable to handle life in general was very difficult to accept.

While I was not pleased with the notion of being on medication, I could only hang on for two weeks before the wave of symptoms came and hit me hard. I had that prescription filled in mid-November.

I did have one therapy appointment. In preparation for the appointment, I had to complete a form noting my mental health history. As I was checking the boxes, Kyle apparently did a double take. He said, "for a second there, I thought you had checked that you have had thought about suicide!" Thankfully, I am not and have not gone that far into a hole.

The mental health therapy appointment didn't go particularly well. I have to admit, I didn't know what to expect, but from my perspective during the appointment, the therapist seem very disinterested in my issues. At the end, she gave me her card while telling me that I seemed to be an intelligent person who is in general control of things and that I didn't need therapy... I interpreted that as: "Get your shit together and buck up." Needless to say, I left a bit disappointed.

I continue to take my medication and I feel much better. For the most part, I feel back to the old me. I chose to be on medication to ensure that I can function normally in my relationships with others--family, friends, co-workers--because they are so valuable to me and my problems were causing issues with most of my relationships and job performance. My intention is to eventually get off medication, but I am okay with the fact that I need it for now. I still have some shit to get together, but at least I'm more rational about things and can function day-to-day.

So there.

It's no fun being sick

In the past seven days, I have been out of the office 4 - 1/2 days. Last week was due to Kyle's hospital visit and recovery. Then yesterday, I left work after lunch when the fever, chills, aches and pains starting coming on. When I started having stomach pains this morning, I thought it was time to go to the clinic to find out what's going on. Since my symptoms weren't clearly consistent, I had blood and urine samples taken and chest x-rays. When I was having my second round of xrays, I started feeling quite light-headed and came "this close" to fainting. Luckily the tech came over to me in time. From then on, I was in a wheelchair. E-gads!

The diagnosis? Gastroenteritis...a.k.a "stomach flu", which made no sense to me since I was neither vomiting nor having things going the other way. Interestingly enough, my x-ray also revealed something else totally unrelated--apparently, I have a "calcified nodule" on (or in?) my lower right lung. It is in all likelihood benign, but my doctor is going to have the radiologist comment on it and get back to me in a couple of days.

Well, I got home and then things started moving. I'll spare you additional details. I hope to be back in the office tomorrow.

Now I need to rest again.