Friday, March 28, 2008

I'm okay

More or less.

I think a lot of things were hitting me at once. I still don't know how I'm going to get through this semester, or even complete my work from the last one (when I was sick all the time). I'm starting to seriously consider a medical withdraw. Not getting work done. Not getting anything done. How am I going to get through the semester?

Hell, I don't know how I'm going to get through tomorrow. But I will. Whether it's sleep, or M&Ms or lots of drugs. We'll see.

Guess I should have called the pharm shrink my therapist referred me to on Tuesday. I had been weepy, but felt so much better on Wednesday, even Thursday. I thought it was mostly hormones (period started on Wednesday). Silly me. Know what I'm doing first thing Monday.

I wish I was numb. having good days just seems to end up with me on the floor weeping. Or 6 feet under. did I just say that? What I meant was, as good as I feel one day, I'll feel that bad the next. I intended no reference to actually being 6 feet under. Really.

Theoretically, rationally, I know there are good things going on, that everything is not all bad. It just feels that way. K made it through the surgery okay. So far, so good (with fingers crossed). I'm going to update the post below.

Thank you all for your responses. I can't tell you what it means to me to know I'm not alone in all this. That we're not alone. Really.

5 comments:

Antigone said...

I think periods trigger my depression now. It's such a bloody reminder that my body is a f*cked up baby killing apparatus. But you know, the pain isn't as devastating as it was. I really think its the Zoloft. Nothing else was helping.

I know we're all thinking about you.

Ya Chun said...

Day by day, dear.
I am sorry about your Mom and your boys

jaykay said...

Breathe. (That word, once comforting, has taken on new meaning for you though, hasn't it. I'm sorry.)

You can get through this, even if it's ten seconds at a time. I wish you weren't forced into this new strength, but I know you can do it.

And I can't thank you enough for the update on B and K. They were in my dreams last night, and in my thoughts right now.

As are you and C. As always.

Tash said...

Go ahead, slap me silly, but: you will be ok. "OK" will in all likelihood have a much different definition (read: upright, showered, food in the fridge), but you will. And it's ok if you need some pharm to give you a little stepping stool to reach out of the "cave of despair" (TM, Meg and Tash). You will slip back again, mark my words. But eventually the steps forward will be further, and come more frequently.

Keep writing. That alone helps tremendously.

STE said...

Thanks, all of you, for your comments. It means a lot to know that you all are pulling for me. I'm definitely calling the pharm -- my low dose is just not doing it.

Talked to B today and K was awake this morning when she saw him at 11. She said it was amazing how good he looked, despite all the tubes, healthy and pink for the first time a year. I almost cried again.

Sometime early on in this nightmare, my sister and I were talking about how we'd so much rather have our mom than be stronger or wiser or whatever it is that comes with a major loss.

I think it's kind of amusing that Blogg.er tells you to "choose an identity" when you leave a comment. Who would I like to be today? Do I even have to answer that?

Tash, I like that "cave of despair" thing. (I'll make sure to give credit when I use it.) Kind of makes me think of Plato's cave, too.