Monday, August 31, 2009

From Anxiety to Logic to Love to Answers

Good morning and it's Monday and how are you?

Me? Oh. I'm anxious. I've cut my dose of antidepressant in the last few days, not out of false belief that I don't need it, but because of other reasons (uh- could we get a damn health plan that covers prescriptions that a normal person can afford?) and it is not working out. No. It is not.

I woke up at four a.m. worried sick about several things, one of them that had I perhaps forgotten to pack Mr. Moon a post-workout snack. I usually send him with a boiled egg but had not had any pre-boiled and by the time I got around to thinking about that last night, I didn't feel like boiling eggs and in my four a.m. stupor, I couldn't remember if I'd packed him a substitute or not and GOT UP OUT OF BED TO GO CHECK and yes, I had. I'd packed him some cottage cheese with cantaloupe and so then I went back to bed and worried about other things.

Then the real morning came and I found even more things to worry about, fret about, get anxious about and then I read Ms. Adrienne's post about panic and Pan and all through yoga I cursed Pan and fretted some more.

But now I feel, if not calmed, then at least aware that my worries are being magnified by my lack of chemical intake and so I am okay. I am not walking around feeling as if I am going to die at any moment and hey yah! bring it on.

There are some things I just need to accept and one of them is that I damn well need this medication and that is that. I wish I didn't. But I have access to it, I can buy it, and I need to. This life I have is too precious to walk around in panic with, to spend my night hours worrying myself out of bed, my daylight hours worrying myself out of my head. I don't know why my chemicals are fucked up but the fact remains that they are.

The other night a thought occurred to me and I wrote it down. It said this, "If everything is a lie, then everything is a lie."

Well. Of course.

But what I meant was that when you grow up in a house where you know, even in your innocent little child-soul that what is going on in that house is wrong, wrong, horribly wrong, and yet everyone pretends it is lovely! okay! just peachy-keen and normal as milk! then it is very hard to trust the validity of anything, even fifty years later. What, at the very basic level, do the words, "I love you" mean when the person speaking those words is acting in a most unloving and abusive way?

I think you get my drift.

And quite possibly (I believe) this sort of situation can fuck up a person's chemicals for the rest of their life and if so, that may be my problem.

Anyway, la-di-dah and here I am and when I went out to give the chickens their corn scratch this morning, there was Miss Red on the nest. She looked at me like this:

I think she is saying, "Hey! I'm trying to lay an egg here. Leave me the fuck alone!"
Don't you?

Those chickens.
Sam (aka Suzie) has gotten quite randy in the past few days. His favorite target for his affections seems to be poor little Betty whom he squashes with his giant rooster weight while beaking her head with an iron grip. It's hard not to see this in a human perspective and she doesn't seem to enjoy it one bit but it doesn't take long. Like...seconds. And then he is off to scratch for bugs and she shakes out her feathers and joins him in the scratch. He made a grab for Lucille the other day but she shook him off and scrambled to the other side of the coop. He did not pursue her.
And what do chickens have to do with anxiety or depression or when everything is a lie then everything is a lie?

Not much is the answer to that.

But then again, perhaps one of the reasons I love observing my chickens so much is that there is so little bullshit or prevarication in a chicken coop. The big ones rule the roost. The small ones keep a wary eye out because they know where potential harm comes from. There are quite firm rules and if one is broken, it is broken with the full knowledge of what may happen. And yet, there is compromise, too. There is the pushing of envelopes and this is how progress is made in the social system of the birds in my back yard. The babies are now allowed access to all parts of the coop by the big birds and yet, there is still a definite separation. I do not understand how all of this works but I know it does. When a rooster wants to fuck, he finds a hen and fucks her. When a hen needs to lay an egg, she does it. And finally this- if you hand feed your chickens from an early age, they will come to accept your presence as a good thing and may even allow you to catch and cuddle them, even as they cluck a bit defensively when you do. They respond to kindness as well as to threat, but in a completely logical way.

There was no logic in the house where I grew up. None. Every evening's dinner hour was a lesson in complete fearful nonsense. Every bedtime was a moment of panic. And yet, the words I love you were bandied about with abandon.

No wonder I find peace in the chicken coop. Or the garden. Where if you plant okra, okra will surely come up.


And when we grow up we can look at these things and we can discern the bullshit from the truth. We can see things the way they are and if we need to, we can even perhaps change them. But before change can come, knowledge has to be acquired.

For five and a half years, the sink in my bathroom has been a frustration for me. It is beautiful but the water always splashed onto the wood of the cabinet it is set in. I have a rag there, just for the purpose of cleaning up the water.
Finally, it occurred to me a few days ago that the reason this happens is because the water does not go directly into the drain, but onto the bottom of the sink.

Duh.

I told Mr. Moon this. He said, "And you can't move that faucet, can you?"
"No," I said. "It's stationary."

And then this morning, while I was fretting and worrying while brushing my teeth, I tried bumping the faucet with my hand. It moved. The water now drains into the drain even though the faucet does not come out at a straight angle, the way it "should."


But the point is, I have spent five and a half years just accepting this fault and cursing it and wiping up water when all it took was a gentle bump of the hand to fix the problem.
No. It is not perfect because the faucet is off center. So what? The problem is solved and forget the aesthetics.

And I think that many things are like this- we curse the darkness and forget we have an entire box of candles with a nice pack of matches right there in the drawer.

I do curse the darkness but I know I have a pill to help me fight my way out of it.
I need to just take the pill and quit the cursing and look for solutions.

And perhaps one of these days I'll finally accept that everything around me is NOT a lie and thus, everything is not a lie. That the goodness and love I seem to be surrounded with are not all an illusion but as truthful as anything can be.

That the words "I love you" mean just that. That the rules of this house are as logical and real as the rules of the chicken coop.

Does this make any sense?

It does to me.

And I need to remember that I do not have to live with lies any more, nor have I for many years and that the lies my brain tells me at four a.m. or eleven a.m. are not valid nor real nor anything I need to pay attention to. And that sometimes, I just have to look at something in a different way to figure out how to change it to make it work.

And perhaps after another lifetime of reminding myself of this my chemicals will realign themselves and I won't need a damn pill.

But until then, it is only logical that I take it. It may not suit my sense of aesthetics, but it is a solution and I am grateful for it.

25 comments:

  1. Last night I realized I didn't pack jackets with the girls school clothes when they left for their dad's house on Sat. afternoon.
    I fretted all night, but it was too late to call them...I told Jeremiah I was worried and he told me I was crazy. Then he hugged me and told me their dad was a grown man and that he would know that they needed jackets and would provide them for the girls.

    I woke up a bunch of times in the night, checking the clock, seeing if it was late enough in the morning to call them.

    Finally at 7:30am, I called and woke Rose up. (whoops)
    'Mom, we have jackets at Daddy's house too you know! Oh my gosh Momma...you worry too much. Go back to sleep'
    Wow.

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  2. Being forced to live in an untruthful and unhealthy environment and having to adapt during our most formative years really does a tap dance on every part of our being. Then add hormones to the prolonged stress of not having a safe place to live... to be safe. Sweet Jesus! It's no wonder so many of us need a pill for balance.

    It's ok. It will continue to be ok. Somehow, it will. And, great job on the sink! That's kick butt!

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  3. I've done the med rationing thing too, those prices are as crazy as we are.
    Hope you feel better soon.

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  4. Perhaps predictably, this entire post spoke to me. I think-believe-that since the only consistent thing in my hosue growing up was inconsistency, I very rarely trust things to be as they seem, which in turn creates fear and anxiety-hence the need for my little pill. If I didn't have it, I would totally be unable to function at all. And yep yep yep-awareness that part of the problem is chemical or lack thereof helps me cope some.

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  5. It makes total sense. All of it. And taking half a pill for a few days is probably stoking the chemical fire -- don't underestimate what happens when you wean drugs like that. It's always amazing to me how much stigma is attached to medicine that helps your brain when we seem to have gotten over medicine to help your kidneys, your heart, your headaches. You go on and take what you need, Ms. Moon. And you'll be fine -- I feel it.

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  6. It makes sense to me, too. That we can BUILD balance through all sorts of means IN AND OF ITSELF is logical - whether the means are a tap of the hand to make the water (of life) flow or a pill to let us see the faithful beauties all around us and blessing us or a talisman or alter of leaves and eggs and writing and heartfelt surging when we smell bacon frying.

    It matters not the source, the truth, for me anyways, is that result, which is the awareness of I am happy and whole in this moment, with these sets of things and supports that let me observe.

    Take heart, dear Mary from a Mary in the center of Alberta, Canada, where the days are getting shorter and the nights colder and I snuggle with my girl and feel her warm belly under my hand and her soft hair moving in the breeze from my breathing.

    Love you!
    Mary

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  7. Kinda makes one wonder how Jaycee and her two daughters are going to come out of this mess, does it not?

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  8. Marsha, I've thought about them, too. I don't think they'll ever be OK even with a lifetime of therapy. I have fantasies of torture for that man. Death is too good for him.

    Wow! What a post, Ms. Moon! I am so enthralled by your writing - style and content. I had truth growing up and can't imagine what you went through and how it affected you. It's a tribute to you that you were able to trust and love and to accept love and truth. I'm so glad for you and for your husband and children.

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  9. I just read my comment and realize that I contradicted myself. If Ms. Moon could survive and thrive, perhaps Jaycee and her daughters can, too. I sincerely hope so.

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  10. I hope you get a proper health service soon, Ms. Moon. It's terrible to not get the pills you need.

    I was struck by how you were told "I love you" so much when you were little. That seems so odd to me, if you weren't treated at all well. I was never told that, and had to teach myself. I used to think it was hysterically funny and ridiculous, people being friendly to each other. And now I get lice from all the love and cuddles. Not sure where this comment is going. You stirred something in my soul there.

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  11. Thank you, as always Ms. Moon for your truthful words. We are not alone

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  12. I had a terrible night of sleep, and woke up many times and had nightmares...I wonder if something was up with the moon? It made me feel rattled today, moreso than in a long time, and it was almost a comfort to read your words since I was feeling anxious too.

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  13. Erin- That story reminded me of days past when my two oldest went to their dad's. Jackets or no jackets? And so much more. I don't think my ex kept any clothes at his house for the kids. So it was always a crapshoot, packing the right things and I worried SO much.
    And yet- they survived.

    Petit Fleur- I think you're right. And yeah- the sink- it only took me five a half years! I'm not so swift.

    Rachel- Yeah. It really sucks when your medication for anxiety costs so much that it makes you anxious to buy it.

    Kori- Amen. It would have been better if the words used around my house had been a little more truthful, even if the actions had remained the same.

    Elizabeth- I am not ashamed of taking this pill. Not one bit. I just wish it didn't cost so damn much. But yes, I will be fine.

    Mary- Oh, thank-you. And especially for that reminder of little child snugglings under warm covers. I hope my grandson likes to cuddle. I really do.

    Marsha- I can't even think about that. It's too horrible to bear.

    Joy- I agree. I don't think there is any amount of help those people can get in one lifetime to create anywhere near a real healing.
    Thank-you for saying what you said about my blog.

    Mwa- Well, even lice is worth the cuddling and love risk.

    Michelle- We HAVE to tell our truths. As much as we can. Sharing does help.

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  14. SJ- It amazes me how many coincidences happen in the lives we share in our blogs. Almost does make me believe in astrology. Or something.

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  15. Somebody needs to give you a column somewhere, with national, etc., syndication. You are very wise AND know how to communicate that. You are good, woman. We need to share you with others who need you too.

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  16. I've weaned myself off my meds before and the results have been universally disastrous. You know this, because I've talked about it before.

    But I'm sorry, Ms. Moon. It's hard.

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  17. Glimmer- Well, that would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, the newspapers they put columns in are disappearing so quickly that I doubt ANYONE would hire me. But thank-you so much.

    Aunt Becky- We all try, don't we? Well, live and learn. Or, live and don't learn, which is more usually the case with me.

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  18. Yes, yes, yes. Makes sense to me, Ms. Moon.

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  19. TAKE THE PILLS! Release yourself of whatever the hang-up is - You said it - Life is too short.

    I myself have been a proud taker of the happy pills for a decade now. If I hadn't taken them, I wouldn't be alive now. It's that simple. TAKE THE PILLS!

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  20. Lora- I'm glad.

    Ms. Windy- Do not worry. I am taking the pills.

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  21. My Dear Ms. Moon,
    I think Miss Red was saying exactly that. You are spot on. That ho was pissed at being bothered.

    I also find antidepressants a necessity. They don't fix everything, God knows, but they do take the edge off the discomfort.

    I find it sad that clearly the adults in your childhood home were the fucked up persons, and you are the one who must now take the medication.

    A friend of my mom's says that she takes antidepressants because her husband won't. Funny, BUT TRUE.

    I love you craploads,

    SB

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  22. Are those pictures of Bill Murray around the sink?

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  23. Ms. Bastard- Oh, my mother is on an antidepressant to. TO CURE HER HEADACHES!
    And after I took that picture, Red laid me a beautiful egg.

    Jon- Indeed! Good eye.

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  24. Is that your bathroom with the Bill Murray pics?

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  25. Steph- Yes it is. I love having Bill Murray stare at me while I brush my teeth.

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