Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Birthday Time

It's that time of the year again. Tomorrow's my birthday. I'll be 33. God. That's such an old people age. I'm don't really care, though. It's a number. Not a particularly desirable one, but what can I do about it?

This has been a bad year for me. Not exactly a year from hell - or at least not the lowest circle of hell, but it sure was hot! I can point to exactly when it all started going downhill. November '08, I think. I had a boyfriend - which is never a good idea. You lose way too much of yourself in relationships and it's just not worth it. So yeah I had an old ass, loud, deaf, barn door rattling snoring, majorly funky footed boyfriend who kept odd hours, ate bad food, and drank a little more than is healthy for any prolonged period of time. Good times right there.

December it only got better. I don't get sick often, but my body decided it wanted to go ahead and get the flu. Just out of nowhere. And it was a bad flu. The kill me now kind of flu. Did I get better? Oh noooo. The flu turned into bronchitis. I hacked for literally two months straight. Antibiotics help with the infection but there's no cure for the coughing. And for two months after THAT, I was so worn down and almostsick. it just was not helping.

So we're in April '09 now. Sick of the funky footed bf and influence from him wasn't helping me be all Oprah and live my best life now. So he went sorta bye-bye. I was physically ill - any sneeze or cough would irritate my diaphragm and there would go dinner. And because I have depression (no not depressed ABOUT anything) all of the bad stuff just exacerbated that.

I was missing a lot of work. Which of course got me in trouble at work. Which of course stressed me. Which of course didn't help my situation at all. The work situation has been off and on and off and on even up to now. Bastards. I decided to start school in October. That's been a non-issue, pretty much. It is what it is. It's a means to an end.

I'm finally starting to feel better. I'm at about 50% right now. Which when compared to the 20% where I spent the last year - well, every little bit helps.

So what changed? I think it was several factors. First of all, I got tired of hearing myself whine. I don't feel good. So what. Suck it up and deal. I quit therapy. I'd gotten all I could out of that and therapy was only for my PTSD from back in the day, anyway. I felt like therapy was becoming a crutch. I HATE when people say "Well my therapist said..." uh huh now what did YOU say? So I got real with myself, faced myself, and you know what? It's alright. I'm alright. Let's move it along.

I've also gotten rid of my psychiatrist and gotten a new one. The old one had gotten rather lackadaisical. Plus he wouldn't write me any more scripts without seeing him even after we'd discussed that it would be awhile before I could see him. And the location was inconvenient for me. So I picked one closer to work. I had my intake with him (the new one) last week.

I've been off ALL my meds for three weeks now (due to that no prescription thing). No antidepressants and NO sleeping pills! And after the initial withdrawal I realized that I haven't felt THIS good in over a year. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's finally getting out of my own head and facing my own shit. Maybe I needed to see that I'm ok on my own just like I knew I was. Maybe I needed a reminder of dammit girl get a backbone, get your shit straight, and quit the whining. Whatever the reason, I'm just going with it.

I told the new doc about being off meds and feeling great and he was like well you shouldn't need them all the time so if you feel fine and you look like you feel fine, then don't sweat it. I just sat there like OH. Well...OH. And I realized OH I didn't implode. OH I'm not on somebody's ledge somewhere. OH I've been going to bed and going to sleep with no problem without medication. OH I KNOW how to do this!

I'm probably going back on the meds, just for the month until I see him again. I figure having that regulation there with an existing condition can't hurt. But at the same time, I can see me again. Beyond all the ohhhh I'm on meds. Ohhhh I need therapy. Ohhhhh I need a psychiatrist. Ohhhh it's so harrrrrd. With all that enabling and bullshit I was wallowing in, I'd forgotten my own strength. But that's ok, I'v been reminded and now I'm going all RuPaul and putting the bass BACK in my walk ;-)

It's gonna take time, I realize that. There are ups and downs. Sometimes there are way downs. Sometimes the sun is too bright, people are too loud, there's too many whiners... Sometimes there's not enough sun, it's too dark, things are too crazy... But I've gotta remember that this is LIVING. And what I almost forgot how to do was LIVE.

Take no prisoners, goodbye to the bullshitters, and hello world. Happy birthday to me.

1 comment:

Nevan said...

I love you for exhaling. It sounds like you have been inhaling for a long time. I learned that it is ok being by yourself. Sure life has its lumps and mumps, but with each hard knock, there is a rainbow at the end. Way to go. Love your auntie wa wa/second mom