Monday, January 03, 2011

What It's Like

  • Oops.  My psychiatrist didn't tell me that one reversible affect of Zoloft is memory impairment.  In the summer of my mom's decline, I watched short-termed memory turn into not remembering to care, not remembering to want to get well.  I'm having some insights into this as a result.
  • The streets of Brooklyn are passable for cars but barely for foot traffic and deliveries -- or, in this case, pick up.  The sidewalks are already challenged with high heaps of crummy-looking snow but they not have several days of trash, recycling & tree corpses.  There is enough ice that Daisy has a hard time finding purchase to take a dump.  The recycling, however, never ceases to fascinate.  Champagne bottles overflow recycling cans.  "My First Harley" -- with lights, horn & whatnot -- screams TOO MUCH MONEY and TERROR ON THE PROMENADE.
  • I took an odd way back from school to Times Square this morning and found a shop full of old, odd bits of sterling silver.  Also the bar when Boss #2 first pulled my hair & scuffed my shoes stamping on my feet.  This city is full of ghosts -- Dublin 1790, psychotic bosses, dwindling Christmas, high rolling days of the early 2000s, my erstwhile brain.
  • I'm titrating on to Prozac.  I am stupid & clumsy & took my first spill in school this morning.  Will I sprain an ankle again?  I feel fragile.
  • Monday & Wednesday class at 8 a.m.  My fellow-commuters are in Carharts & steel-toed boots.  It's refreshing.
  • My nephew speaks of 2012 as being a more personal year.  I found a gluten-free pizza place, Rob.  Hurry up.
  • I am tired unto death of dragging my brain, my my sadness, my body through life.  Daisy seemed pretty happy with her Uncle Gerry while I was away at Xmas.
  • Prozac makes it hard to eat.
  • I might catch up on bills tomorrow.  Maybe even Xmas cards.
  • In the end, I couldn't see him.  We were on opposite sides of Phoenix's big valley, I can barely leave the house, & I knew seeing him would make me bawl.  Thinking of him makes me cry.  Can a heart be cauterized??
  • Too much chick lit over the holidays.  It's changing over the years from goofy Bridget to Knickerbocker Wanna-bes.  
  • I want to kick the city-farm/dress shop of Facebook.  I could learn German, clean my house, figure out my cameras and my iPod in three days of cold turkey imaginary living.
  • I almost need to be fat to match my moods.  I'm dragging so much regret, loneliness, futility & heartbreak around that the painful pounds seem fitting.
  • Or do they simply feed one another?
  • Three more people died over the holidays -- two in-laws & a classmate from St. Anthony's.
  • I miss K.
  • Will I ever give a dinner party with my own china again??
  • Can one cauterize a chronic lump in one's throat?
  • Winter will get worse before it gets better.

13 comments:

Literacygirl said...

I hear you. Have hope for what's ahead. If you want to.

Anonymous said...

happy to see you in my google reader again. sorry you're feeling low. it was a hard year for everyone, wasn't it? let's hope for better in 2011

kristenevol said...

Taking Prozac, too, and I have no appetite. Hadn't made the connection though until I read this entry. Too bad I'm not losing any weight lol...

Sue said...

Frances, I'm so sorry you're going through this. You have been a blessing to your students and your readers, and you're bravely gearing up to start it all over again. I'm hoping that the growing light brings you some better days.

"Every sentient being perfectly occupies the ground on which it stands." Dogen Zenji

Your reader, Sue

Anonymous said...

So glad you're back. I've missed your posts and been worried about you. Sorry you've been feeling so down. I've wondered if you've ever looked into Truehope? I've had good results with it for depression. Hope you're feeling better.

April said...

Oh, Frances... I am so glad you posted. I've been checking nearly every day for months, wondering if this time you'd quit for real. I've been worried about you. Of course, this post makes me worry still... your depression sounds worse, not better... and the prozac seems to complicate things, not improve them. Maybe it is time to find another doctor who can untangle the med's and other therapies and come up with another way to help you help yourself.
Keep fighting, Frances. I am rooting for you!

Zesty said...

I don't what to say other than that I can totally relate to what you've written here. If you have the strength to recognize all this, you have the strength to overcome it. But sometimes, you just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other for a while. That is all. And it is enough.

Anonymous said...

PJ from Minnesota:
I'm sorry for all the woe. But I missed reading your stuff, and I'm glad you're back.

Vickie said...

hugs

Anonymous said...

It's good to read you back here again.

Stephanie Elsea said...

I'm sorry you're in so much pain but please don't give up. There is hope and joy and love enough for all of us.

I'm glad you posted again. I am a lurker but I missed your voice.

crazyjojo said...

Hi, I check your blog frequently for updates. I enjoy your style and I read your first book with great enjoyment.

Do you mind me asking who you are referring to when you wrote "I couldn't see him"?

Emmalina said...

Oh, Frances. I understand -- I'm there. I switched insurance and had five days without prozac, prempro (I can't believe I'm on estrogen replacement), and ambien though I did have xanax (which didn't help). My dad's been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, which made for an interesting family Christmas. I broke my leg over summer, snapping my tibia, which makes me terrified of falling again. I had gastric bypass surgery, but have regained since of course re-routing one's digestive tract does NOTHING for an eating addiction. Our work started up its annual Great Weight Challenge, and a friend got me to sign up -- which was enough to trigger compulsive eating. Again. I've got to find an OA group I can attend. FAST. I'm with you in spirit.