I'm sitting here with a big purring cat with a big furry belly and two fliers for an "Annual Walk to Remember" from the hospital where I delivered the boys. The cat is laying on the fliers, which I encourage, rubbing her big furry belly as she rolls over some more to let me scritch under her chin. Her eyes are closed and I'd swear there's a smile on her face. She has a low purr that's hard to hear over the birds outside, and the kids in the elementary school playground behind my house. I can feel it though, the purr.
The fact that I got two fliers instead of one is curious to me. Was it a clerical error? Or were they trying to acknowledge each of my boys? I don't know why this is so important to me.
Thank you all for your sweet and supportive comments on my last few posts. I am definitely in a downswing, and it doesn't feel good. I have actually been talking to my shrink (an LICSW) about changing up my meds and last week I made a few calls about finding a pharma.cologist/pscyhiatrist, perhaps one who deals with trauma. I called one name my shrink gave me, but she didn't have an opening for over a month (from when I called) and the others were not taking new patients.
After two sessions of practically begging me to get a pharm re-eval, and agreeing with me that waiting a month was not going to work, my shrink (who was on her way out of town) said she'd find some more names for me. She agreed with my sister (who also said she thought I was sounding pretty bad) that going to see my GP for an eval was not really a good idea, because I needed someone who specialized in this kind of thing (at least in psych meds). I realized how bad I must have been when my shrink called me about a half an hour after my appointment with a referral. That was Tuesday.
I didn't call the referred shrink, partly because I didn't fully understand his last name as my shrink left it on the message, partly because I'm all fucked up. Also, apparently his office is in the same neighborhood as the hospital in which I delivered the boys. And because I'm all fucked up.
I'm feeling a little better, but not in a stable way. More like I feel okay for a few hours, then I walk around feeling all weird and shaky. It's familiar, and I don't like it. I've also realized how, well, distorted my views of reality have been when, discussing my class with a colleague, that colleague remarked that it seemed to be a productive class. I couldn't really tell that it was terribly productive, and was thinking that it was not that great. I had a couple of good meetings with students, where I was able to teach them a little something, and connect with them on a human level. That was good, too. Had a good class (one that I take) and a good chat with a colleague. And a nice dinner date with C.
So it was good for a few hours, but then I felt all weird and shaky and unsettled. It's the only way I can describe it. C came home from his own shrink appointment with a few names of pharmas, one of which was the one my own shrink had given me over the phone. I take that as an indicator that he's a good one (since my shrink is 40 miles away, and his shrink is here in town).
So, I'm a little more functional. A little less weepy. But feeling just as fucked up as ever.
I tried writing a post on Sunday, and got about 10 lines in when the power went out. For two days. Apparently the effects of Hurricane Ike were felt farther north than was anticipated. Where I live now, the threat is usually tornadoes; I grew up in the northeast, where hurricanes blew in a few times each fall. Wind, rain, disappearing beaches. Power outages.
I knew it was windy, but initially I didn't think much of the outage. I went out to school at about four to try to do some work, use the computers and internet. There were trees down everywhere, no lights, everything was closed. It looked like a hurricane, only without the rain. Classes wound up being canceled on Monday and most businesses were closed that day. Many were closed on Tuesday. There are still 10s of thousands of people without power. Thankfully ours came back on Tuesday.
The post I started was titled Left Behind. In it, I wanted to talk about how I'm feeling out of step in so many ways with so many people, both in real life and in the computer. In DBL. And with where I'd like to be. Emotionally, mentally, academically, reproductively. I hate the consequences of being oversensitive, physically, emotionally, mentally.
I know, I know, I am where I am, and there's not much I can do to change that, except try to take care of myself. I know. And yet. There's another loss. Goddammit. I'm tired of being so fucked up. Always the basket case, always the oversensitive one. Yes, I'm bringing in drama from my childhood, and I don't care. I'm tired of being the one who can't seem to deal. I don't know how to change that. Any of it, the being tired and the not dealing. Goddammit.
Maybe one of these days I'll finish that post. Or maybe I'll just let it go.