Practice

12:30am - Arrive at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

12:45am - Get into bed after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

5:45am - Dog wakes up to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

6:00am- 5 year old neice wakes up to noise of the dog going outside and decides to come into my bedroom to say hello after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

6:10am - Dog gets too excited with neice in the room and accidentally scratches her. This causes her to get upset at which husband tells her that the dog needs a timeout and to come back at 8:00. After her initial entrance at 6:00 after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.


6:20am - Niece taps lightly on door before opening and asking, "Is it 8:00 yet?" After her initial entrance at 6:00 after asking her to come back later after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

7:30am - Sister walks into bedroom to tell me that my dog is running around. I tell her her kid is in my room. She leaves after two uninvited visits from my 5 year old niece after her initial entrance at 6:00 after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

7:30-9:00am - Interrupted, uncomfortable sleep. After two uninvited visits from my 5 year old neiece after her initial entrance at 6:00 after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.


9:00 - What's the use? Get up after an hour and half of interrupted, uncomfortable sleep after two uninvited visits from my 5 year old neice after her initial entrance at 6:00 after waking up at 5:45 for the dog to go outside after going to bed at 12:45 after arriving at my father's house after a 9 1/2 hour drive, of which I got maybe 3 hours of sleep.

I love my neice. I am at my father's house to celebrate her 5th birthday. I do not begrudge her her excitement over her birthday or seeing me. I'm just very, very tired. I know, I know...practice, right?

Unpacking.

A little over three years ago, I was diagnosed with severe depression with an accute adjustment disorder. My sadness had moved beyond circumstance and actually manifested in a chemical imbalance in my brain that was not curable with a new pair of shoes or a sunny day. I had known something was wrong for a while, but admitting there's a problem seems to be universal hurtle over which everyone with a disease must soar immeasurable heights to clear.

When I look back, I'm amazed I paused at all to take stock in what I was feeling. I was recently married, mourning the loss of my husband's grandfather, finishing my master's degree and starting a new career, and settling into a new apartment. Busy.

Without knowing it, all of the things that were keeping me from taking care of myself were also major life changes - technically, there are five: death/birth, marriage/divorce, new job/degree, moving, and disease/disability. After my diagnosis, I learned that experienceing any two or three of those life changes within a year's time can cause any number of anxiety or depression related conditions. I had experienced 4 of the 5 in fewer than six months.

As with many things, there were clues. Most I chose to ignore or assumed were byproducts of whatever I was dealing with at the time: procrastinating when a paper was due, stressing over finding a job/what would happen once I found one, fixating on the arrangement of the furniture in my new place. Truthfully, though, the biggest clue was one I had stopped to look into. Even saught help. For over a year, I had little to no interest in anything romantic (ehem - sex). My husband and I had been together for 4 years before we got married, living together for almsot two years of it. It was no secret that we were "living in sin," but in reality there was no sin. We both chalked it up to stress. And the professional answer I got: stress.

About 2 months prior to our wedding, I went back to the doctor for another opinion. I was sure I had some sort of blood disease or hormone imbalance and was not leaving until they had an answer for me other than stress. My wedding night was 8 weeks away, and gosh darn it, there would be passion! They reluctantly did the bloodwork, but when the results came back, they showed an decreased level in testosterone. See!

But they said it was nothing to worry about. Again, it could just be due to stress. Back to square one.

Our wedding came and went. My labido, however, was gone.

A few months later, I started my new job. It was amazing! It was what I was meant to do! And yet, I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. How could something so important to me strike up so little motivation? This was not just stress.

The official diagnosis came a few weeks later. My husband encouraged me to see a psychologist. The last time I had spoken to a "shrink" was when my best friend died. Surely, this wasn't the same. But I went. I sat in the chair and very calmly and professionally explained why I was there. She gave me a survey. A simple questionnaire about how I felt, what I ate or didn't eat, how I slept or didn't sleep, my love life or lack thereof, etc. It took what felt like an eternity to fill-out. My throat was dry, my eyes wet, my fingers numb. How could she ask such personal questions? She had just met me! They couldn't have been more generic.

And then she "graded" it.

I don't remember her exact phrasing, but what she said hit me like a ton of bricks.

Severe Depression.

And then the verbal questions: Do you have suicidal thoughts? No. Is anyone hurting you physically or emotionally? No. Do you have a regular psychiatric healthcare provider? No. Wait. What? I, um, just started a new job. I have new insurance. I don't even know if this is covered.

I have no idea what her name was. I wish I did so I could thank her. She not only gave me an answer other than "stress," but she gave me hope. The rest of the appointment was spent walking me through the process of finding a psychiatrist and a psychologist. She didn't let me leave until I stopped crying. She made sure I had a way home. I'm sure she does it every day, but she helped me start unpacking - settling into my new life and sorting through the baggage I had brought with me thus far.

It's just a toy.

You know, one of those ring stacker things with the multi-colored plastic donuts that vary in size and mount onto a falic looking plastic obelisc. A ring stacker. Well, I now have one.

It's my first baby toy.

It's my first baby anything.

It's just a toy.

I love it.


(Thank you Ali!)

Things I hate...

1. Stupid People
2. Email Forwards
3. Email Spam
4. Stupid people who ask stupid questions
5. Stupid people who believe stupid email forwards
6. Stupid people who send stupid email forwards
7. Stupid people who send stupid email spam
8. Stupid people who believe stupid email spam
9. Stupid people who believe other stupid people
10. Stupid people who I know are not really stupid.

Life

As I read over my post from yesterday, I realized that most people would not consider it normal to go to bed at 7:30. Alas, that has been my bedtime for the past few weeks. No, I'm not sick. I'm just pregnant.

Ok, so not just pregnant - I AM pregnant. Ten weeks and 3 days to be exact. So far, I've dealt with everything early pregnancy has to offer: sore, ever-expanding breasts, exhaustion like no exhaustion I have ever experienced, morning sickness, afternoon sickness, evening sickness, night sickness, everything in-between sickness, inexplicable crying, cravings, round-the-clock hunger, and of course the indescribable feeling of carrying a human life inside of me!

Generally, I am not a gushy person. I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't emotional, but gushy, no. But there really is no comparison to the way this makes you feel. I know some women have terrible pregnancies (my sister), some feel nothing until they are actually holding a child, and still other's try and try and for whatever reason will never know any of it. I, however, consider myself lucky on so many levels. Puking was miserable, but there was a reason for it. Sleeping all the time is not as restful as it sounds, yet somehow it recharges me. A bulging waistline a tad ahead of what all the "it" pregnancy books recommend, and still I look forward to having an even bigger baby bump.

Gushy, no. Emotional, yes.

Sleep

Today I slept. I went to bed at 7:30pm last night. My dog woke me up to go outside (good girl) at 2:30am. At 7:30am, I was up. My dog, however was still in bed. Knowing that I need to eat as soon as I'm conscious, I had breakfast, sat on the couch and dinked around the Internet for a while. And then...sleep. The dog came to sit with me for a few minutes and then decided it was all much too exciting and went back to bed - which incidentally is my bed! I took her cue and followed her. It was maybe 8:30.

It's now 1:40pm. I was once again awakened by the dog to take care of business (good girl). Since I'm sure I've given her some sort of canine UTI due to irregular outings, I gave her some peanut butter as a reward, made myself some ravioli, and am now back on the couch.

I will follow her lead.

Two steps forward, three years back.

So I've decided I can be a blogger. I used to have this image of what a blogger was - mostly formulated from one of the most annoying people I've ever met who I had the unfortunate experience of taking a two - count them: one, two - person class with. But recently, as I've become addicted to the blogs of some friends of mine, my viewpoint has changed. So here goes...

As I was driving home from work today, I began thinking about a person I know whose mother died recently from breast cancer. While this person is an acquaintance, at best, I was deeply affected by her recent tragedy due to the fact that my mother-in-law was diagnosed in December. Oddly enough, this is not a segue into the events and emotions of the past few months, instead a linear journey of my thought process as I drove home. I will eventually discuss my more personal thoughts regarding my mother-in-law's illness, but it's all very fresh, and frankly, too soon.

The thought about breast cancer made me think about death in general, which brought me back three years to when the proverbial $#!+ hit the fan. Actually, it brought me back to when I was 18 and lost my best friend in a car accident, but those thoughts are mostly fleeting now as my time without her has exceeded my time with her. Back to three years ago - On Christmas day, 2005, my husband's grandfather died from cancer. Very rarely do people die from cancer, but this was one of those cases. Not pneumonia, not the flu, cancer. It was devastating. In a very short time, the man had become my mentor and surrogate grandfather. I am very close with my husband's family, but I owe a lot of that to him. Very early on, he took me under his wing and welcomed me into the family when not everyone was willing to do so. I should probably mention at this time that my mother-in-law's diagnosis came a week before Christmas this year. Fortunately, thanks to the good doctors at Mayo Clinic, she was able to have surgery later that week. Unforunately, that brought us full-circle back to cancer on Christmas.

So as I sat in my car, I pondered the book-end events of Christmasses past and present. And then I remembered one thing. Life. There have been many more than two steps to the process that has led me to where I am today, and I'm sure there will be many more steps to come. However, even though I am saddened by the horrific illness that has reared it's ugly head on my family once again, I can honestly say I have hope for the future. Hope for remission, hope for happiness, and in many meanings, hope for healing.

My first blog

I'm not sure how I feel about blogging. I've always been somewhat against all things private made available to all people public. But I've found that more recently I've had things happen to me that the greater world might appreciate...and then again, maybe not. I've also really enjoyed reading other's blogs and knowing that, somewhere, out there, someone is thinking just like me. So how this will go, I do not know. Will I change the world? Probably not? Will I try? Darn tootin'!