Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Have You Tried Green Tea?

It was so bad today I took one of my very, very few remaining illicit holy Xanax. It helped tremendously. I called the NP's office and talked about increasing my dosage of the antidpressant to the girl at the desk. She called me back and said that my practitioner suggested I increase the dosage by ten mgs. and take up to 1000 mgs. of Tryptophan at night. Although she called it Tryptophane.
I told her, "Look, I feel like crying. I don't think supplements are what I need right now."
Honestly, people who have never experienced this sort of panic/anxiety/terror, have no fucking idea. None. Sure. Take some Tryptophan. Try a little kava, a little B12, a little fish oil, green tea, regular exercise, get outside in nature, get some Vitamin D... oh hell.
I need chemicals that will re-rewire this brain which is firing off its own chemicals that are wrong and toxic and take away my ability to think, to function except on a soldier- like level.
I can get some shit done when I'm in the anxiety mode. Clean toilets, wash rugs, take fast walks, scrub floors, glue things that have needed gluing forever, do laundry, do whatever I can do to keep moving; if I sit down my legs bounce up and down, I jitter, I feel like a live wire stretched between two towers, humming and thrumming in the shimmery air, my shoulders right now could double as a cement wall, a supporting wall, they are up into my ears, they ache with fire if I take the time to think about it.

But. Dammit. Thank the universe (and one of you knows who I'm talking about) that I had the Xanax and I've increased the antidepressant dosage and I wasn't a bad grandmother. I was not. I read Gibson books and played games with Owen and pushed Gibson on the swing and played animals on the bed and we had a picnic

 and I cleaned dog shit off shoes and we kicked bamboo and we played with the baby chickens.

I wanted to eat things today like soda crackers with peanut butter on them and I did some of that. I did whatever it fucking took.

Tomorrow I leave for Apalachicola. I keep dreaming that I am moving into houses that are not beautiful, that require cleaning out of junk and debris. That the floors are missing huge hunks. That rotten hidden doors lead to creepy passages into falling-down staircases. That I will not have a place for my chickens.
I keep saying, "How can I live without my chickens?"
I will not have my chickens in Apalachicola. Will I be okay? Will I manage to imitate a normal human being to the point where I am believed? What will I do without laundry to wash and dry and fold? Without a floor to sweep? Without meals to cook and a routine to follow?
Lily said she'd like to bring the boys down one day to visit while we're there and that gave me so much relief. If there is one thing in this world I am sure of, it is that of my role as a grandmother.

We shall see.

The sky is darkening, the children from the church next door are outside playing. The big chickens have set themselves up in their roosts. I can still hear the babies peeping as they take their last food and water before bed. I will wash the dishes from today. I will tidy up the house.
I will enfold myself into the envelope of my covers and mail myself into sleep.

I will hope for better tomorrow.

I feel like an asshole, a fool, a defective human being.

The Tung Trees are starting to bloom. Tomorrow I will drive to the coast. We are staying in a beautiful place. I am the luckiest woman in the world.

If I had Tryptophan, I would take it.

I kissed my grandsons today as much as they would let me. Gibson got some of my gugga from my neck. I will see my husband tomorrow.

I am holding on. I am pulling my shoulders out of my ears. I am waiting for the first distant call of the Chucks-Widow's-Will.

I am here. I am here. I know I am here. Somewhere.


  1. So glad you have Xanax. You are not an asshole or a defective human being. You are a warrior. I hope you rest well.

  2. I know those crying days. Believe it or not. But I won't preach to the choir.
    You can live through this. Just keep doing the soldiering, even if it seems unreal. Remember those Grandchildren. They idolize you.

  3. (hugs)

    you clean those basements, and hug that man, and let Apilachicola do its magic on you. and keep writing

  4. I HAVE done the soldiering days. I never considered that I needed *help* then, but damn, I think I did. That was a hellish time, and I am so glad that everything has an end as well as a beginning. heart-y hug-waves of support I stream your way, hang in there baby!

  5. I am thinking of you, and loving you.

  6. I have been thinking of you today. Perhaps a nurse practitioner is not the right person to be talking to about this. Can you see a specialist? I have been through the anxiety you talk about and it is so painful to live with. It took awhile to get on the proper medication because no one was hearing the anxious part of the depression but when someone finally did, it was like a new world. I know from experience it will get better if you don't stop speaking up and if you keep fighting for what you need. Life is too short to live like that. We are hearing you here and you can lean on any one of us any time. Sweet Jo

  7. Not defective.

    And green tea tastes like an old sock. Fuck that shit.

    And my mother recently told me that I should just "get over it." My response: "oh, like I just got over THE CANCER?" Mean, but also, TRUE.

    Bearing witness for you, Mary.

  8. Green tea and Tryptophan, that is almost as bad as someone saying get over it. I hope your trip will make things better. Gail

  9. I sure do hope as I read this now, late in my own day, that your own day has improved. I'm sending my love.

  10. You are not an asshole, a fool, or defective. Your brain just has some fucked up chemicals. You know I know this because mine is f'd up too and thank god for the pill I take twice a day.

  11. Mary, speak to your doctor about a low dose of a medication called Seroquel (quetiapine). It was originally intended to be an anti-psychotic when taken in high doses. They have found take in low, low doses (12 - 25 mg.) that it works wonders for anxiety and it is not addictive. For me it is working better than Ativan. (!) This is coming from a woman that has taken Ativan every night before bed for years.

  12. Try not to punish or be so angry with yourself. This is not something you've chosen to wrestle with! I hope it lessens and I hope you find an adequate treatment. Tryptophan is probably not it.

  13. I'm no expert, but I'm noticing a trend. When you are about to leave your nest, you get a little cuckoo. And when your man is gone. Right now your man is gone and you are about to leave your nest...double whammy!

    OMG I was like this for years. I felt like an emotional cripple. I couldn't handle life. It makes you feel like you lack the most basic of coping skills. But, BUT. You have tools. Meds and tricks like cleaning are the tools you need to get through the zany days. And writing. Always the writing. The tethers to others to let you know that you're not alone. You will be okay.

  14. You are perfect. It's that brain of yours that's acting up, and you are not your brain. And you couldn't be a bad grandmother if you tried.

  15. Definitely never a bad grandmother! And such a wonderful, warm, talented, creative woman.

    I know for me, antidepressants pushed me into hypomania, an anxiety-ridden energy-filled time of doing it all and in triple-time, sewing things, gluing things, painting things etc. Is it possible the anti-depressant dose is too high? Or perhaps just the wrong anti-depressant? Interesting about Seroquil...

    Thinking of you. You will feel better soon, it will not last. Nothing does.


  16. Oh Sweetie. Grrr.
    May peace come your way soon.

  17. I hope things are better. xo

  18. I also hope that things are good. And I believe that they are, now that you are at the coast and doing something new with the geographic cure. Hang in there.


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