The Bipolar Express

Still Breathin'

Well, I'm still here. I still have no answers to life's myriad problems, but have continued to put one foot in front of the other for a whole week.

I went back to work last Tuesday. I found out on Wednesday that I missed a Very Important Meeting. (yeah, right) on Tuesday morning, and my ass is probably still in a sling.

None of my students had been told I'd be back, even though I e-mailed all the schools' secretaries, so I basically did nothing all week. My students have a big concert with all the other students from the various geographic areas of our district. The music for this concert has to be checked out from the central music library which is inconveniently located and not open when I need it to be. Further, I was absent when the selections were announced, so most of the music will be gone when I go to get it tomorrow.

I e-mailed my colleagues and explained my predicament. Not only is no one willing to send me a few stinkin' copies of music, no one even responded to the e-mail! Nice, huh?

I'm eating like a premenstrual maniac, and I'm not even close to that week. I had 200 carbs today, and I continue to exhibit compulsive/addictive behavior, not only with food, but with drink as well. Last night I had three cocktails before bed. Then I got up in the middle of the night and had a protein bar, a glass of milk, and a bagel with butter and brown sugar! Good God in heaven, what the hell am I thinking?? I don't know what's at the root of this food orgy, but I have to get a handle on it before there's another set of handles on me!!

The new quarter starts next week - for my paralegal studies. I'm taking Legal Research & Writing II, and Torts. The texts for both classes are the same ones they use at the prestigious law school downtown. Yeah, one's not hard enough. Let's take two!! Moron...

One fun thing: tomorrow I'm having a fancy lunch - I usually have a lean pocket and a quart of water - with the local paralegal association. Chicken parmesan. Yum! (Boy, I am easily amused.)

That's all my ramblings for now. OH! Except for one... I have a friend who lost her job last week. In addition, she recently lost her boyfriend, and her mother is nagging her from 1500 miles away to come home. (I sense that while she's home, she'd spend most of the time getting ragged at for the very things that the rest of the world admires her for!)

Anyway, she posted this info on a board I participate in, and the well-meaning readers wrote post after post about how this is a "new beginning" and she's "so lucky" and she can "go anywhere she wants" because she doesn't "have a husband or children" to weigh her down.

What a bunch of crap! Let's remind her that she's alone, shall we? Let's remind her that she's lost a job she loved and a man she loved in the same week. It's not like if we don't remind her, she won't know. As Billy Crystal once said "why don't you give me a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it."

I DO NOT understand how otherwise intelligent and reasonably compassionate people could so completely miss the point!

If you're reading, hon, know that you are not alone. And this progression of life events truly sucks. You have no reason to feel bad that you're not "embracing the future" or whatever pile of crap snowballed in that thread.

I wish I could be there with you, get drunk with you, rail at the unfairness of it all. I feel so bad that someone so wonderful has to go through something so terrible by herself.

Sometimes life just really isn't fair, and that's all there is to it.

Bits and Peaces

I've been thinking a lot lately about having children. Yes, I know; strange timing since my oldest bio child is 15.5 (and oh, boy, ladies and gents, is that .5 important! He has a countdown on his Myspace for "Days Til I Drive" dear Lord...)

Why did I have children? Why do other women choose not to? Should I - for the boys' sakes - have chosen not to?

I think a lot of people have children for selfish reasons; someone to love them, someone to take care of them when they're old, etc. Some have children because that's what their social or familial circle expects them to do. Others just can't find the way to the dr/drugstore. Still others have a genuine love for children and want to nurture and raise intelligent, thoughtful adults.

So which one am I?

As a teacher of 20 years, and a Mom of 16, I'd sure like to say it was that last choice. But if I'm honest, the answer is a resounding "I don't know."

Unlike every other female member of my family, I had to try to get pregnant. None of this look-at-me-crosswise and here-comes-baby, like my mother and grandmother. I took Clomid prior to both pregnancies. Not surprisingly, the eventual effective dose the second time was much higher and ta-da: twins!

I love my children. Fiercely. It is a love that defies definition or description. But the older they get, the worse a job I think I'm doing. I'm crabby, short-tempered and loud. And those are my good points.

The boys and I spent the afternoon today with our psychiatrist - all six family members see the same physician. R.J. went in by himself, unplugged his I-Pod long enough to tell Dr. B. that everything was fine, and came out. Then I went in.

She asked me questions about Michael and Andrew, and finally, me.

(Review: Michael is bipolar, highly emotional, slightly learning disabled, with a high Irish temper and the face and heart of an angel. Andrew is the poster child for ADHD: highly intellectual, verbal, and additionally, a raging drama king, and Michael's twin.)

When the conversation got to my stuff, I said all I wanted was peace.

Peace. Such a short word, such a tall order.

It seems like there is always a Major Conflict in the house between/among at least two of the six members of this family. In fact one time Leigh asked Jack "will we ever just be normal?" Yeah, right. Current psychotropic med count: Andrew, Michael, R.J. and Leigh, one each. Jack, two, Melody, four. See? I AM the craziest! :-)

Do other women have mid-life doubts about everything from childrearing to career choice? I'm in the process of changing my profession from educator to paralegal, but I'm pretty sure it's too late to change my mind about children!

The truth is, I know I wouldn't have made different choices - though I would've made those choices with a different man, and not ended up divorced with three soul-wounded little boys. I guess I just fear the day when my guys are in a therapist's office every week, like I am now, describing the myriad ways their mom screwed them up.

My therapist has a sign in his office that reads: "It's never too late to have a happy childhood." I'm not quite sure what that means for adults, but I hope it's not too late for my "babies."

Learn the fricking language!

(No, this has nothing to do with immigration, national language or ethnocentric bigots.)

Ok, I admit it: I am a nerd.

This comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me - online or in RL, but I felt the need for a disclaimer.

When I was in high school, I actually LIKED diagramming sentences, for God's sake! I can tell a subjective complement (and spell complement correctly) from a direct object. I can spot a split infinitive faster than my cat can spot a full food dish.

My point? Yes. I have one. I absolutely fail to understand how persons whose native language is English refuse to use it correctly! (I teach with several bilingual women and without exception, they speak English better than the Caucasian teachers with whom I teach.)

Examples:

1. People are not things. Therefore they cannot be "thats." "That's the girl I saw on TV." Nope. "She's the girl I saw on TV." Yep.

2. Apostrophe "s" shows possesion, not plurality. "Free Fish on Friday's" Nope. "Friday's special: fish." Yep.

3. "Irregardless" is not a word. Never has been, isn't, never will be. "Regardless" will do just fine.

4. By the time one says "to make a long story short" it's almost always too late.

5. "That said," or "That being said..." Ok, duh! You just said it.

6. Their, there, they're. Your, you're. To, too, (I'll assume we can figure out "two.")

7. Spell Czech will naught ketch you're air oars if there reel words.

7. And my very favorite - and we all have it - professional jargon. "My ADHD/OCD son has an IEP this afternoon to see if he qualifies for OT, PT, or AT. Use it freely with your colleagues. Impress your friends with it at dinner parties. (If your friends are that easily impressed, get new friends!) But please, oh, please don't expect anyone to know what the hell you are tallking about.

Thanks. I feel better. :-)

From Bad to Worse?

Things are bad here. Very bad.
I was going to "flunk" (read - gentlewoman's 'C') my advanced research class, so I dropped it.

I'm still home - unpaid - from my accident.

I have an appointment with my PS to talk about a scar revision for my belly. I have adhesions under the vertical scar because he did such a crappy job, and it hurts/pulls when I move.

Haven't exercised since before the 1/24 car accident. Have gained 7 pounds. Back to 180 again. It makes me cry to type that.

The family situation is horrid. I don't think Jack is ever going to be able to have a steady, loving relationship with my boys, and I positively cannot stand his daughter most days. It hasn't always been this way. But it is seriously time for her to graduate college and get the hell out on her own. She's almost 22 and acts it about 10% of the time. The rest of the time she acts like a irresponsible child with a filthy mouth. Nice combo, let me tell ya.

Example: over the weekend she borrowed R.J.'s car. She brought it back reeking of smoke, and with a nearly-empty tank. R.J. is allergic to cigarette smoke; it gives him migraines. So he can't even drive or ride in his own car. AND it has leather interior, so you know damned well someone was actually smoking in there; it wasn't just the amount of smokiness you get from "bar clothes." That wouldn't sink into leather that fast. I am so pissed.

I am pissed at life. I am teary, fat, in pain, and fear that my marriage and family are about to fall apart completely. I have no RL friends and I can't talk to my Mom about anything important, so I'm all alone.

I'm so tired of thinking that stability and happiness are just around the corner. There is no fucking corner. Just a cruel twist or turn here and there to make me think there's hope.

There isn't. Time I faced that.

He Can Call Me 'Flower' If He Wants To"

I am a Sunflower What Flower Are You?

"When your friends think smile, they think of you. There is not a day that goes by that you can't find something good about the world and your fellow human."

To Medicate or Not to Medicate

On Marybeth's blog the other day, she was discussing psychotropic drugs, and how often they are prescribed willy-nilly. I had a response typed in, but it was longer than her blog entry, so I thought I'd write it here instead.

I take five different meds. Jack takes two. Leigh takes one, Michael takes one, and R.J. takes one. R.J. and I have a strong family history of clinical depression, so do Jack and Leigh. And, as I've mentioned before, Michael is bipolar. Andrew, the last of the lot, is the poster child for ADHD.

As a teacher, do I believe drs are handing out Ritalin and its ilk like candy? Sometimes. Do many kids need it? Yes, but probably not the number that are taking it.

Boys are exponentially more likely to demonstrate symptoms of ADHD. "Boys will be boys" has some truth in it. Boys do NOT learn in the same manner that girls do. Sitting six hours a day is NOT conducive to the way boys learn.

Girls generally suffer from ADD, distraction, and lack of focus. That type of ADD is far less likely to be diagnosed because those students don't cause distractions in the classroom.

I suffer from that type of ADD. I can't focus; can't maintain linear thinking. It's a bitch when you're trying to do legal research.

Do I think the meds are overprescribed? I don't know. I'm not a dr. I do know that there are lazy psychs who will start throwing drugs at a situtation before they discern whatever is wrong.

As for tests to determine whether or not a drug is effective, there are virtually none. Some drugs require periodic blood tests to be taken to make sure that the liver is not suffering from metabolizing the drug.

Much of determining whether or not a drug works is discerned through conversation with your psych. "How are you feeling?" etc.

I am convinced that I have one of the finest psychiatric physicians in the region, and she "plays" with my meds when things aren't working. She doesn't use the "shotgun approach;" changing a bunch of drugs at once. She is cautious, changing or adjusting the dose of one med at a time.

Yes, it necessitates more frequent visits and/or phone conversations with her, but I feel secure in the knowledge that she knows what she's doing.

She also does not throw meds at a situation that doesn't need it. For example, Michael suffers from bipolar disorder. She has him on a drug that is very effective. When I noticed his behavior taking a big turn for the worse, I took him right in and asked if he needed a higher dose.

She feels that his behavior needs to be modified, and that the organic component of his illness is as under control as it can be.

Don't get me wrong, I know that no doc is perfect, but this one's pretty terrific.

She also strongly recommends talk therapy for all six of us. Four of us see therapists regularly. The other two have less severe disorders, and do their talk therapy with her.

I don't know if I've cleared anything up, or if I've even been clear in expressing my own opinion. I am convinced, as a mother and a teacher, that there is a place for these types of drugs, but they must be carefully regulated.

Just my 2 cents. Worth exactly what you're paying for it. :-)

Mel

I'm a bittle lit intoxicated

Hi all,

I decided that my last couple of posts have been dismal. So here's some more cheerful stuff.

I've been married for five years to the love of my life. Yeah, he drives me crazy sometimes. He's mercurial, temperamental and a royal pain in the ass, but he's also loving, generous, and an incredible... uh... husband. He puts up with my only-child spoiled-ness, my own erratic behavior, and my interminable quest for the right balance of psychotropic medications. All the while, loving my boys as if they were his own.

My children are pains in the ass too. (Gee, a theme?) But they are sweet. loving children whose hearts are in the right place, even when their mouths and attitudes are not. They can hate each other with a fevered passion in this house, but when they leave it, they will defend each other to the point of taking punches for the other. (Mostly the twins.) As barbaric as that is, it gives me hope. Because someday when I am gone, they will only have each other.

Yes, I wish my children were "normal," but what exactly is that? Is being gay abnormal? Is being bipolar, or needing growth-hormone injections abnormal? Maybe. But those are my boys. And I have yet to figure out "my" girl, because she has yet to figure out herself. But the journey is never dull.

Is it odd that my online friends give me more support, advice, and understanding than my RL friends? Is this the wave of the future, or am I abnormal in that too?

I'm beginning to think "abnormal" is a helluva lot more interesting. :-)

Have a great Saturday night. I'm off to make another sex-on-the-beach. (It's -10 degrees here: anything-on-the-beach sounds really good.) I'll deal with the "too-many-carbs" potty issues tomorrow. (And so will everyone else. bwahahaha.) :-)

Starting Over?

Money sucks.

I did our taxes and "discovered" that we sold an obscene amount of stock this year: roughly equal to twice my yearly salary. We have cashed out stock three times to pay off bills, then racked the bills up again.

I have no self-discipline, whether it is in regards to food, money, exercise, whatever. And Jack can't say no to anyone he loves who desires something.

We did have some large unexpected expenses this summer, and an ill-advised, although wonderful, expensive vacation.

If we don't get a handle on this right now, I am certain that I will lose my husband; either through divorce or worse. (He told me the other night that "You will buy a black dress before I declare bankruptcy." Now there's a cheerful thought.)

He is a bit melodramatic, in that we are not close to being in straits that dire, but this coming on the heels of his job situation (see 1/31 blog entry,) has caused the stress in our house, which is often substantial due to a bizarre combination of individual family members' psychological challenges, to reach epic proportions. Oh, and let's not forget that I will get NO paycheck this month due to unpaid sick time off work.

I dont' know what to do for the short term. We've devised a realistic budget, and have so far (for three whole days!) managed to record every dime that goes out. At our current rate of financial obligation, however, it will take us five years to pay off all the credit card debt.

Selling off more, perhaps the last?, of his securities is simply not an option. At least not until we have enough months of staying within our budget to show ourselves that we can do it.

The two things that most commonly end second marriages are arguments over money and child-rearing practices. We have distinct challenges in both arenas.

I. Am. Scared.