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Mar 4, 2011

Losing My Mind (And Finding It Again), Part 2

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*continued from part 1*

Attention-deficit disorder? No, I’d never really considered that possibility for myself. Sure, I’ve jokingly claimed that I have ADD at conferences from so much going on, but actually having ADD? That condition had never crossed my mind.

My older daughter has autism, and there have been plenty of times when I’ve thought that maybe her autism came from me. I certainly have several of the traits, but don’t quite fit the overall profile for it. However, ADD is a diagnosis for hyper kids, right? Like, someone who bounces off walls and can’t sit still and is too loud and too talkative? I have never, ever, ever been what someone might call hyperactive. The couch and I have always been good friends.

I gave my doctor a puzzled look. “ADD? But I don’t have any energy at all.”

She explained the difference between the hyperactive type of ADD and the inattentive type of ADD. It made sense, but hearing that I might have ADD – something I thought was primarily limited to kids – frightened me.

I told my doctor I was honestly unsure if that was the problem. She suggested a one month trial of medication to find out.

Having taken antidepressants before, I was unsure if a month would be enough time. Antidepressants usually take 4-8 weeks to begin working, so wouldn’t ADD medications work the same way?

“How long will it take to know?” I asked.

“I think you’ll have a good idea after one pill,” she responded.

One pill? Really? What the hell was in this stuff?

I left my doctor’s office with my prescription, went to the pharmacy, and took my little bottle of pills home. I still remember it was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in October – not too warm, not too cold. Aaron wasn’t home, the girls were in school. It was just me and that little bottle.

Sitting on the couch, I took one pill out of the bottle and studied it in my hand. How could I know if this was the right diagnosis with just one small, round pill? Had my doctor lost her mind, too?

And then I wondered what would happen if it worked. Would I be chained for life to a pill? Would it change who I am? Would people treat me differently if they knew I had ADD?

I took a sip of water and swallowed the pill.

And then I waited.

My doctor said it would take 30 minutes or so for the medication to take effect. I counted the minutes on the clock as I sat in my quiet living room, mind racing with anxiety over what I had just done. All of my worried thoughts slammed into each other in a chaotic jumble that left me desperate to get out of my own head.

Unable to stand it anymore, I went upstairs and did some laundry to distract myself from my internal drama. After sorting clothing and starting the washer, I went back downstairs and resumed my wait on the couch.

I looked at the clock and realized it had been over 30 minutes. I didn’t really feel any different. Huh, I thought, maybe I don’t have ADD? I decided to stretch out on the couch and take a nap, disgusted that I got myself so worked up over nothing.

And that’s when I noticed it.

Silence.

No eight televisions all blaring thought fragments in my head. No songs competing for my attention. Just…quiet, along with intense focus and awareness.

My current thought about wondering if the med didn’t work was bouncing around in my head without any interference. It was crystal clear, like someone had taken a squeegee to my brain and removed all of the grime fogging it up.

I smiled. It felt great. I called Aaron and told him everything that had happened.

And I did take that nap, falling asleep more easily than normal.

Before I drifted to sleep, I remember saying out loud, with no one else to hear, “Apparently I do have ADD.”

—-
*Must break here. I didn’t intend for this to be so long, but it’s harder to write than I thought! The final part on Monday, and I swear it’ll be the final part.*

(Edited to add: Part 3 is now available.)

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me ·


Mar 3, 2011

Losing My Mind (And Finding It Again), Part 1

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Different ways I considered to start this post:

“I’ve been called scatterbrained. Funny thing is, they were right.”

“Do I owe you an e-mail or a call? Sorry, that happens a lot with me.”

“I’m on a drug, it’s called Charlie Sheen…”

—-

There’s no easy way to start talking about losing your mind. I’ve already deleted and started over several times, scared what people will think of me for sharing this. But it’s felt like a big dark secret holding me back, and it’s possible others are going through the same struggle, so I’m going to tell my story.

*deep breath & imagining all of you in your underwear to reduce my anxiety*

—-

I love to sleep. When I sleep, everything is quiet. Getting to sleep, however, is always more of a struggle. Because even if the room is completely quiet, it sounds like a busy New York street in my head.

When I was younger, thoughts in my head were rapid and clear. I was bored in school because I picked up the subject quickly and was ready to move on long before everyone else. When working on a project, my mind was always focused one or two steps ahead of what I was doing.

High school and college were periods of time when I both loved and hated my brain. I was proud of being smart, of being able to pull answers to obscure questions from my grey matter in split seconds. It also didn’t make me popular – when a question was asked in class, it was nearly impossible for me to not raise my hand, as my brain was screaming at me I KNOW THE ANSWER! SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY IT!

But I also started to notice that it never stopped. My thoughts raced from dawn to well into the night, and if I went to sleep exhausted, it was mental exhaustion, not physical. I hated working on long projects or reading long books, because I was distracted long before it was finished. I was also a champion procrastinator, preferring the rush of cramming it all in at the last minute. I never thought it was a problem, just a side effect of having a good brain. I had youth on my side and used that youthful energy to battle the negative aspects and keep my brain in line.

As I’ve grown older, the speed at which I think is still the same, but I’ve slowly grown more and more unable to deal with it. After all, it never stops. Never.

The best way to describe it is to imagine being in a room with 8 televisions and 2 radios on. They’re all loud, and all feature things you are thinking about. The songs compete for your attention, and as soon as you’re interested in something on one television, another one becomes even louder and drowns it out.

I hate having a brilliant thought for a post in my head, and just as I start to ponder how to develop it, another thought cuts in and suddenly I can’t remember the first one at all. Gone, just like that. Sure, it happens to all of us at some point, but I’m grasping at stray thoughts all day long, trying desperately to give my attention to the thoughts that are important, thoughts I can’t risk forgetting.

My memory is actually pretty good, when it makes enough of an impression for me to remember. If I’m eating lunch while distracted, though? I wouldn’t even be able to recall what I ate later that day. And at night, my thoughts keep going even when I want to stop. Moments of the day replay, random thoughts make quick drive-by passes just to perk my mind and keep it alert, and of course a song is always stuck in my head.

What I hate the most, though, is letting people down. Forgetting to send an e-mail to someone to check on them. Being unable to have a long talk with a friend who is hurting – looking them in the eyes while fighting internally to keep my thoughts on what they’re saying when my mind tries desperately to wander. (And I DO care! I want to listen! My mind is just bringing up random thoughts and there’s a bird in the tree behind you that is really pretty.)

Throughout my twenties, I visited my doctor several times for symptoms that I thought were depression: I was tired all the time, I had trouble falling asleep, I had no attention towards my work, I felt fuzzy-headed and down. Each time I was treated for depression, despite everything going well in my life at the time. The meds helped me cope, but did little to help stop my racing mind.

After becoming a mom, my coping abilities failed as my responsibilities increased. If I only had to take care of myself, I could get by, but adding kids to the mix quadrupled the number of things I had to keep track of and guaranteed that something was always forgotten. And, to add to the cacophony inside my head, I now had bone-chilling anxiety screaming what if? at me as well.

A year and a half ago, I went back to my doctor. I was exhausted, I was fuzzy-headed, and I felt like I was losing my mind. I nearly broke down in tears as I told my doctor about locking our door at night, telling myself that I locked it, going upstairs to bed, and then being completely unable to remember if I’d locked the door or not, requiring me to go check again. I explained how my mind was a jumble, and it was getting harder and harder to think through an entire thought without losing it somewhere along the way.

I was convinced I had Alzheimer’s or early onset dementia, and I was scared. My thoughts were clear and speedy when I was younger, why were they failing me now? Was this the beginning of a slow slide into forgetting everything?

That office visit went far longer than I expected. My doctor looked back through my history, and we discussed practically everything I’ve written here and so much more. Blood tests were run to check practically everything that could be checked, and they were all amazingly normal.

And then my doctor asked, “Have you ever thought you could have attention-deficit disorder?”

Really?

Part two coming very soon, I promise. 

(Edited to add: Part 2 is now available.)

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me, memories ·


Mar 1, 2011

Stuck Between Hip and Hip-Fracture

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One of the joys of losing weight is going shopping for new clothing when everything starts getting baggy. (What? Were you unaware I was losing weight? You must not be reading my weight loss blog then!)

Such was my joy this weekend when I went out to Kohl’s for a little “me” time in the evening. I had gift cards from Christmas, I had a coupon, and I was ready to spruce up my wardrobe.

I walked in the door and was immediately distracted by the cute dresses on my right. The pull of ruffles and stripes and soft fabric drew me to the racks as I quickly found myself immersed in spring fashions. Another woman, younger than me, was also browsing in this section.

One top caught my eye, so I started digging through the rack, looking for my size. The other woman was practically right next to me looking at shrug sweaters. Not finding a large, I muttered out loud to myself (because I talk to myself all the time), “Darn, I wish they had this in my size. I doubt a medium would fit.”

The other woman – who really couldn’t have been more than 22 or 23 years old – looked me up and down for a split second, and then replied, “You’d probably find more for you over there,” and nodded across the aisle with a sigh and a withering look on her face.

(Were she 50 years old and southern, she’d probably have added a “well, bless your heart,” to the beginning of that statement. Instead, I got the teen “geez, mom, you’re so out of touch!” tone of voice.)

“Oh, thanks,” I replied, not realizing what she meant. A moment later, it came to me: I was in the Juniors’ section of Kohl’s. The area she was nodding to was the Womens’ part of the store. You know, the area for females who are of a certain age and should be dressing a certain way.

And for just a moment, I was truly embarrassed. I shuffled away from the soft ruffles and left the Juniors’ section to those without wrinkles, hoping no one would point or stare at the old lady thinking she was young again.

I mean, I’m four months away from 35 years old, where I’ll officially be in my “mid-thirties” and can no longer pull off the “early-thirties” label. I don’t plan on wearing an ultra-mini skirt anytime soon, but I didn’t realize that the entire Juniors’ section was off-limits for me.

But I like some of the clothing there. Sure, I won’t be wearing anything that bares my midriff anytime soon, and Juniors’ jeans are simply never going to fit my legs. The tops and dresses, though, are a mixed bag – some are really cute, and while most aren’t work appropriate, I could see wearing them on a casual Saturday afternoon, out with friends, or even to a blog conference. No inappropriate baring of skin, no squeezed into something like a sausage – just trendy ruffles and floral prints and clothing cut in a way that makes me feel happy. 

To be fair, I like some of the clothing in the Womens’ section, too. This is not a rant against matronly clothing for those of us who can’t like Justin Bieber without it feeling kinda creepy. I buy most of my clothing from that area of the store, to be honest. I just don’t see why I should feel guilty shopping in the Juniors’ section as well.

So tell me: is a thirty-something mom of two considered too old for clothing from a Juniors’ section, or does Miss Teen Fashion Police need to zip it and let women shop where they want?

Filed Under: daily life, me me me, pop culture, rant ·


Feb 21, 2011

The Pioneer Woman, Ice Cream, and a Sick Kid All In One Weekend

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Some weekends are short, and then some fly by so quickly that you barely had time to process everything that happened before you found yourself sitting at your desk at work again.

This weekend was one of the second.

It wasn’t a wholly bad weekend. And it wasn’t a wholly awesome weekend. But somehow it was a combo of both, with no hint of mediocre anywhere to be found.

First, the bad:

Friday started off with a beautiful afternoon and the promise of spending a few hours with my husband before the kids got home from school. That plan vanished when the school called to report Mira had thrown up and we needed to come get her.

Let the Vomit-fest 2011 commence!

Mira was fine the remainder of the day. Ate dinner, was mostly herself, went to bed with no problems. Then at 2:30am I heard her crying and found she had vomited in bed. Stripped & remade the bed, changed her, calmed her down and put her back to bed. 3:30am – lather, rinse, repeat. And then 5:00am, when I was out of sheets for her bed, Aaron took her downstairs to sleep on the couch while I started the laundry and then got a little more sleep.

It’s now Monday, and Mira just got off that couch. Other than going to the bathroom, she didn’t leave that couch for 48 hours. Poor kid seemed better on Saturday morning, but then by mid-day made it clear that even small sips of water couldn’t be kept down. Saturday was nothing more than fitful periods of sleep and vomiting. And like a bad, bad mother, I missed most of it, because I had a full day already planned. (In my defense, Aaron insisted I keep my plans for the day and he’d take care of Mira.)

Sunday morning was difficult, because I had to weigh our options of what to do for Mira. Take her to an urgent care, where they might insist on IVs, blood tests and meds that would leave us in major debt thanks to no health insurance, or keep her at home and take the risk that she might not get better on her own? Money is no factor if she genuinely needs help, but I’ve been through my share of stomach bugs to know that many times you just have to wait them out. And, well, I’m a nurse – I know what the danger signs of dehydration are and when we can’t wait any longer.

So we waited. I stroked her hair as she slept with her head in my lap, and I waited for her to guide me towards which direction I should take. And by Sunday afternoon she was keeping down small sips of Pedialyte and behaving more like herself. By Sunday evening she was asking for food, although we kept to the Pedialyte regimen. And then she slept through the night with no more vomiting. Whew.

Two things. One: I never want to repeat that again. Two: why do kids always seem to get really sick on the weekend, when the doctor isn’t in her office?

And then the awesome:

Momo had tweeted me earlier in the week that Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman, was coming to town for her book signing, and she was organizing plans for dinner afterward. We know a lot of the same people, but I’ve never had the privilege of talking with Ree, so I was thrilled to be invited along.

I was also secretly terrified that she’d hate me, because she’s all…uh…domestic, and I’m, well, not. I burn water, people.

But the truth is, Ree is funny, smart, and so very easy to talk with. Not once did I feel uncomfortable around her. (OK, maybe a little jealous of her tremendous flexibility – she can get her leg behind her head!) She blended right in with the local gang as we talked, laughed and drank wine late into the night.

Oh yeah, we’d had some wine by this point…

We all had a fantastic dinner at Northstar Cafe (omg, try their veggie burger!), followed by dessert next door at Columbus’s own Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams, with a personal tour by Jeni herself.

Ree is in awe of the ice cream goodness. I’m in the back about to pass out from so many yummy choices.

Side note: I am completely in love with Jeni’s ice cream, and was crazy proud that we could introduce Ree to our hometown best. Not only is it delicious, it’s all-natural, with many ingredients locally-sourced (including milk and cream from Snowville Creamery), and every flavor is safe for Cordy to eat. She’s not just limited to vanilla at Jeni’s, even if she prefers vanilla.

Columbus locals, if you haven’t had Jeni’s yet, you are hereby ordered to report to your nearest Jeni’s location and eat ice cream. Meyer Lemon Yogurt is my favorite, but if you hurry you might get to try Ylang Ylang Honeycomb before the season passes.

Dinner and ice cream and hanging out with some amazing women made it one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. It all went by too quickly, and I already miss those conversations and all of that laughter. I’m glad to have met Ree, and thankful to her for giving us all a reason to gather and share an awesome evening together.

Love.
Filed Under: being a mom, me me me, Mira, plague · Tagged:


Feb 4, 2011

Blissdom Bloggy Love

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I’m still coming down from my Blissdom high as I settle back into real life. The one thing that really frustrates me about going to blog conferences is that I always miss the people when I come back home. I’ve made some great friends through blogging, as well as met so many interesting people, and coming back home only reminds me that I live so far away from most of them and can’t have those inspiring conversations every week.

(I still love all of my local friends, too. Don’t want you to think that you have to live 100+ miles away for me to love you.)

So today I just want to share with all of you some of the people who made Blissdom extra special for me. If you don’t already know some of these women, be sure to click through and visit them.

Heather at Domestic Extraordinaire – Heather is one of my best blog friends, and I’m always happy for the chance to spend time with her. Considering we’ve endured 2 road trips to Blissdom and the nightmare Amtrak experience from BlogHer together and still like each other, I’d say that’s true friendship. Anytime I see her at a conference, I know I don’t need to put up any pretenses – I can just be myself around her.

Cecily at Uppercase Woman – Cecily is someone I had the privilege of getting to know better at Blog World in Las Vegas back in October. I admire her strength and her unwavering determination to be exactly who she wants to be and create her own happiness no matter the circumstance. And at Blissdom I especially admired her mad make-up skills (that she provided for me when I begged): she can create a “smokey eye” better than anyone I know. She’s beautiful inside and out.

Lisa at Condo Blues – Lisa was my Blissdom roomie, as well as someone I’ve been friends with since before the invention of blogging. (You know, back when it was called keeping a journal.) She also served as my flight partner and put up with my snoring without complaint. When I needed reassurance before stepping out the door of our hotel room, she was there to provide it.

Lia at Mama’s Starting Over – The greatest and most pleasant shock at Blissdom came when Lia sent me a Facebook message telling me she was on her way to Nashville. It was awesome to hug an old blog friend and spend some time catching up. Our lives have taken some dramatic turns in the past few years, and I was so happy to see her doing well.

Casey at Moosh in Indy – She makes me laugh, she makes me wish I could be as cool as her, and she let me touch her pregnant belly. No one makes pregnant look as good as her. She also shared her drugs with me, for which I’m eternally grateful.

Mishi at Secret Agent Mama – I trust this lovely woman enough to let her into my hotel room so that she could take pictures of me wearing next to nothing. She always has a smile, and she makes everyone feel welcome.

Carmen at Mom to the Screaming Masses – Simply one of the most beautiful women I know, and my fitness role model. I have no idea how she does it all, but I’m glad that she carved out enough time to come to Blissdom!

Lisa at St. Louis Family Life – Another old blog friend (not that she’s old – just that she’s a blogging old-timer like me!) that I wasn’t expecting to see. I’m so glad she patiently waited for me to finish talking with a Jockey representative (had to get my free workout gear, right?) and made sure to say hi. It felt great to talk with her again, and she introduced me to other St. Louis bloggers I can’t wait to get to know better.

Elizabeth at BusyMom – This woman is funny. And I mean ALWAYS funny. OK, maybe we had some serious conversations about the nursing profession, but no one else heard them so I have no proof that a serious conversation with her existed. But I’m thankful for those moments I did get to talk with her, whether serious or not.

Diane at Momo Fali – Yes, she’s a local, and yet we seem to only see each other when we travel hundreds of miles to conferences. (We need to work on that.) Not only can we compare stories of living in Columbus, but if you’re scared of flying, there’s no one better to fly scared with. Our flight home was all the better at each of us sucking in air in unison when the plane hit a bump of air.

Anissa at FreeAnissa – If ever I start to feel a dark mood coming on, or find myself feeling like the uncool kid at the party, I just need to find Anissa. She’ll give me a smile, a hug, and crack an inappropriate boob joke and suddenly everything is better.

OK, I’m running out of steam, but there are so many others I’d love to mention, too: Aimee who made room for me at lunch one day, Hannah who bought me one too many drinks and can dance ’til dawn, Emily who gave me one of her much-coveted Diet Cokes, and the list goes on and on and on.

Not only am I enough, but so are each of these brilliant women. You’re all perfect.

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Filed Under: Blissdom, me me me · Tagged: