TMS...Day 3

I can only hope and pray at the end of the day (or in this case treatment)....this will be worth it.

Right now I an not very hopeful.

The Apple Cart has been upset. 

And even though things were tough before...they are intensified at an all new level.

Today's treatment was spent listening to a TV show on HulaPlus.  I didn't care either way if it was on.  The tech suggested trying do watch something in hopes of distracting myself.  Not sure how well it helped.

I was in a pretty rough space before going to my appt and it only continued.

This evening I came home from treatment and have spent the night in bed.

Journey to Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation aka: TMS (Part One)

Shortly after the beginning of the year my therapist mentioned a new(er) treatment for depression.  She gave me the pamphlet that contained basic information, told me a little bit about the seminar/training she had went to, and told me to give it some thought.

I'm pretty certain it wasn't an hour after she gave it to me that I made the call to the clinic.  They were doing consult/intakes at no charge.  At this point in the game...I had NOTHING to loose.  A day or two later I received a phone call from the intake coordinator (or whomever it was) and made an appointment for a day or so later.

I went home the evening after making the appointment and googled TMS Therapy.  I asked on my FB Blog page if anyone had heard about it.  I had a few responses.  Nobody that really had any knowledge.  I read and watched the information on the Neurostar website that was provided in the pamphlet.  It seemed very promising.  The video in my opinion was very cheesy and fake.  I came across the following videos from an excerpt on the Dr. Oz show.

Please check out these videos to learn more:
*Fair warning* Dr. Oz is a bit over the top.  Which he is with many things.  However, this is one of the best descriptions and "real" videos I've come across so far.
Dr. Oz  Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation: nA Cure for Depression? Part One

Dr. Oz  Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation:  A Cure for Depression?  Part Two

I went to the appointment at the TMS Center.  My husband went along.  It was rather tough in many ways.  Telling a complete stranger, someone that I had no trust in about me....and why...I was there....well...it wasn't very easy. I will just say that much.  And add in that my husband was with me.  It just was tough.  In many ways.  Any intake is tough.  Plain.Cut.Simple.Dry.  Little did I know then....that would be the easier part of this entire process!!!

I left with very little hope that anything would come of that appointment.  I knew the treatment wouldn't be covered by my insurance.  The gal was a bit more optimistic than I was.  There were bits and pieces of holes that needed to be cleared up.   Over the next week I received a few phone calls to get more information on my insurance coverage.    I am acutely aware with what my insurance will and will not pay for.  And I knew that this clinic was out of network.

End.of.Story.

I received a phone call about a week or two later telling me they had a financial assistance program and I could apply for a scholarship.

I filled the form out immediately upon receiving it in an email and sent it back the very same evening.  

A few weeks later I received a phone call telling me they would like to offer me a scholarship.  The gal was going to email me the information immediately after talking to her.

It was awesome assistance.  However, it still wasn't feasible. I tried to figure out every way imaginable to make it work.  I knew I was sliding down a very slippery slope. And needed help soon.

It wasn't long after that my husband had his little mini meltdown (in my ever so humble opinion that is what I will call it).  He was faced with having surgery, the possibility of having prostate cancer, and in general he was sick of my shit.  I am sick of myself. I can't imagine what those who live with me must feel like.  I am/wasn't faking it very well.  I know that things were bad.  And they weren't getting any better.

My husband was adamantly against using our tax refund towards partial payment for treatment.  I spoke to my mom about borrowing the money from them.  It wasn't going to be an option.  I let the clinic know that we could not do it right now.  We have tapped out every single penny and then some with taking out a loan with my shoulder injury.  And any more debt was not feasible at this point.

I didn't hear anything again for about a month or two.  Just a quick call letting me know that they had received a denial from my insurance company (not a surprise...I knew it was not going to be approved) and they had filed an appeal.  However, it could take about a year for the appeal process.  She informed me they had requested my medical records from my psychiatrist and therapy notes from my therapist.  A day or so later I saw my therapist and she informed me she had received the request.  She was not going to send all  13 years of treatment notes.  However, did I agree with her sending a letter instead.  I firmly believe that is/was better idea.  Treatment notes can be subjective to whomever is reading/writing them.

Okay.  Fine. I left it at that. I think that was the beginning of March.
Until I got a phone call...not quite a month ago...on a day that I had not gotten out of bed. 

There have been several days that I've not gotten out of bed in the past few months.

It's been rocky at best.
However, treatment has started.
Over the next few blog posts I will write what/how it came about.

Doesn't Get Easier

I've stared at this screen for well over an hour.  Trying to come up with the words to what I'm thinking and feeling right now.

About a month ago I wrote this post "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly....Meds Suck".  Meds can certainly suck. 

My appt with my psychiatrist was rather gut wrenching.  Again. It doesn't get any easier hearing the same things that she has told me many times over.  In fact, it gets harder.  And being able to feel my doctors frustration with where things are at made it even harder.  

When I walked threw the doors of my house this evening and my children were arguing like children do...I was reminded why I walked threw that door again.  

And then the tears fell even harder.

And they've not stopped.

I wish I had the answers.

I wish this wasn't so freaking hard.

I wish that the power of positive thinking would be the magic cure.

I wish this would be so much different than it is.

I wish there were answers. 

It doesn't get easier to get back up...
It gets increasingly harder...each time I hear the words out of Dr. K*'s mouth.

Getting back up...doesn't get easier.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly...Meds SUCK

**DISCLAIMER:  This post is a representation of MY thoughts, opinions, and experiences.  DO NOT stop taking your medications just because...I or anyone else say they SUCK or anything else that I may/may not say about them in this post...There. I. Said. It.**

I've not really blogged much about the medication change that transpired little over a month ago.  I was hopeful on many levels.  At the end of the 2nd week, I was seeing some positive changes.  Still a tad reluctant of the positive effects...BUT very thankful there were some definite positives.  There were negatives in the realm of side effects.  That is something I'm very accustomed to at this point.  I've seen my current psychiatrist going on 13 years this next spring.  She knows me inside and out.  I've blogged before about our love/hate relationship.  I love her dearly.  I hate the effects medications have had on my body.  I've taken just about every.single.thing out there.  After my gastric bypass, my ability to tolerate medications became much less.  As in MUCH MUCH MUCH less.  And so the battle continues and as I've said over the last several years....got much worse.

THE GOOD:
Medications are prescribed by doctors to assist symptoms, to target abnormal medical findings, assist and prevent illnesses.  These symptoms range in anything from pain, insomnia, hallucinations, coughing, chest pain, cramping, and many more ailments.  The goal of medications is ultimately to relieve symptoms.  At the end of the day, the goal of medications is to get rid of ailments/symptoms and prevent something worse from happening.  In many cases the goal is both....prevent and get rid of.  At any rate, the goal is to normalize ones quality of life/living.

Medications work.  Sometimes.  In some people.  They have the ability to make bad things go away and allow people to live happier, healthier, and more productive lives.

THE BAD:
The bad thing with medications is they have side effects.  Take trazodone for an example.  It is used as antidepressant, but it makes people sleepy.  SO it is used in a sub-therapeutic (for depression) to help with insomnia.  This particular example can be a good side effect.  Most side effects, though, are bad.  They are uncomfortable the person.  They are often the reason patients stop taking their medications.  Side effects are usually uncomfortable.  Rarely are they fatal.  Usually they are reversible.  Most often these effects go away once the medication is stopped.

The interesting thing about side effects is that few of them happen to everyone that takes them.  Take the side effects of SSRI's for example, a ton of people will experience sexual side effects, not everyone will.  Tremors, sexual side effects, weight gain, and sleepiness are often common side effects of SSRI's and other medications used for psychiatric disorders.

I've struggled with nearly every single psychiatric medication that I've been prescribed since my gastric bypass in 2004.  As a patient who struggles with severe depression, a condition that is impeding my life, it is often worth taking the risk of any given side effect.  Usually, I find myself somewhat hopeful the effects may not happen.

THE UGLY:  (and it can be ugly)
Side effects are unpleasant, at best.  Many have rare and really ugly effects.  The rare and ugly effects are actually not side effects..they are considered ADVERSE REACTIONS.  They can be awful, fatal, and in rare cases irreversible.  Tardive Dyskinesia is an adverse reaction, one that takes time to develop.  One that was a listed as a VERY rare side effect of a medication I took about a year ago.  The usual response to the UGLY is to stop the medication ASAP.

Increased depression, self injury, suicidal ideation in my opinion falls under the ugly category.  This medication is prescribed to relieve these very symptoms and then it increases it.  Occasionally, these reactions/effects can lesson after a few days.  In some cases, they continue to get worse and worse.  Until there is no choice to stop the medication immediately.

THE MEDS SUCK:
I'm currently in the VERY UGLY portion of taking a new(er) medication.  The last paragraph describes what life has been in the last few weeks.  Each and every day increasingly getting worse.  The last few days have been hell.  I've been here before.  I've experienced this before.  I spoke with Jodi last night about the effects.  My pdoc is not in the office at the time.  Seeing someone else is not really an option.  And I've been this route enough times to know that I need to stop the medication immediately before I end up in the hospital.  Jodi and I discussed taking it every other day.  The suicidal ideation wasn't as horrific, was manageable, and not constant prior to reaching the full dose. I'm unable to cut the medication in half, therefore, taking it every other day was the option that seemed like the best action to take.  Giving that a try was something that I was willing to give a try.  After today, I don't believe I will be taking it again. At least not until I can see my doctor in a few weeks.

Going Up? Maybe.

I gave up trying to figure out the ups and downs of depression.  As I'm sure many have said before me...depression and mental illness is much like a roller coaster.  When you are up....your are up.  When you are down...you are down.   Everything in between is messy and sometimes more than one can bare.

I've got my butt securely fastened in the seat. I'm not going anywhere.  Hard to remember that it is a temporary ride, when it has hung around so long.  I'm hanging on tight.  As the gradual incline up has started to appear above the horizon.

With having surgery and having been in such a deep slump many things around my house have been let go.  Sure my husband does most of the cleaning and organizing.  However, there are things that have just plain been let go for way to long.

Slowly beginning to think about changing the look in my house.  Money is very tight.  We are unable to purchase anything at this point.  Keeping my thoughts and actions in line with moving up and forward will help me in my physical recovery.  In the end...that will help me getting back to work full-time.  And then it will only be a matter of time before we are able to add the little luxuries such as chalkboard paint to one of our kitchen walls.  And expanding my daughters closet.  Little things.  Moving forward. Moving up.

One thing and one day at a time.  For today I focused on baking and cooking.  Several different Pinterest recipes were made and tried today....some great and some not so great.  For this week I'm focused on making it to work and physical therapy.  Lessening the amount of pain medication each day.  Today, I've had nothing.  No Nsaids. No Tylenol. No narcotics.  None.  Doesn't mean I'm not in a ton of pain.  Just means...I was able to deal with the pain without giving in.  Without the anxiety around...when can I take the next dose.  Regardless of it being narcotics or nsaids.  I will continue to take one of the narcotics at bedtime in hopes that it will give me added help with sleeping.  This is still a huge issue.  And I need my sleep.  We all need our sleep.

Going Up?  Maybe!



I have not always felt like I am broken.  I have felt from time-to-time that I've been broken to the point that I didn't deserve love from anyone, especially from my Father in Heaven.  

Then I heard this song.  Actually, it was introduced to me a long time ago.  The message has changed my mind.  It is my prayer this evening that I"m able to take the message within this song and continue going up.

And as J* would say....find ease with in this battle.

Under Attack? Probably Not.

Over the last week everywhere I turn..I feel like those around me are constantly preaching at me.  Telling me what I should be doing or not be doing.  Everything from how I should GET to work....to how I should dress myself...to...how much pain medication I should be taking and how I should take it....to who I should vote for....to...everything I do....being told what to do and how to do it.

Maybe it is the medication speaking.
Maybe it is the depression speaking.

Maybe it is the pain speaking.

Maybe these people in my life...they know what they are talking about.
Maybe these people in my life...they don't know what they are talking about.

On Friday evening my Grandpa happened to be one of those people.  Telling me what to do. How to vote. What I should be watching on television.  I was in a rather bad space.  I hurt. I was tired. I was crabby.  So when he went on his political verbal diaherrea of the mouth...I put him in his place.  He is the racist person I know.  So, even if our current president was a Repug....he would hate him.  And....I told him that.  As the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't believe I was actually telling my Grandpa off...so to speak.  "You know...you are the racist person I know.  You don't like O.bama because he is black.  And you wouldn't like him even if he was a Repug...so shush it up to me.  This country offers me the freedom to vote for who I want and I will be damned if I'm gonna let you go on a tangent at 10pm on a Friday night because I don't like  the 'want-to-be' VP."  He continued and then told me "oh, I forget...you are a Union lover.  And so, of course you feel this way."  And then...I lost my shit some more.  Reminding him that not only do "I WORK in a service related field that is supported by a union.  HE RETIRED at "WHAT" age a detective?  And why did he do that?  Because he worked for a union.'  I ended our conversation shortly after on a rather abrupt note.  He had to have the last word of course telling me that when I feel better and am not in so much pain AND on so much pain medication I would feel differently.  I held my tongue from telling him to kiss my ass.

Earlier in the week my therapist told me she wasn't going to tell me what to do, how to do it...only that I needed to find it w/in myself to come up with a better plan for where I was headed.   Because she knows that by telling me I need to do XYZ will only end up with me turning the opposite direction and bulking at the matter at hand even more.  I get what she was saying. And I understand it.  F*ck, I'm living it. See my last post.  And yet, even though I know I needed to hear those things she was saying....it left me in a swirl of preaching. I know Jodi wasn't preaching.  Just like I know that my mom isn't trying to preach at me.  It is just how I'm taking it in at the moment.

This morning, I'm being told that I am doing to much and need to stay home.  If I am going to be able to work I need to lay low.  I call bullshit. I need to be able to be up and mobile and keep my strength up.  Sitting at home is not going to build my strength.  And so the battle continues to rage inside of me.

I'm being told over and over by so many people around me to cut back on the pain medication. And I do.  Until, I leave my house and start doing things.  Pain comes back full-force.  Which leaves me in a panic.  The pain is unbearable. Is it true pain from my surgery? Is it in my head? Is it anxiety induced?  I don't know.  As long as I sit somewhat reclined back...I'm okay and can do 'okay'.

 And then, as I cut back at night...it brings an entirely new set of problems with it.  For the last 5 weeks...the trauma issues that were rearing their ugly head, that were constantly flooding every moment of my day...have been on the back burner.  Simmering. Slowly...simmering.  Somewhat numb.  Actually, lots numb.  I've said it before a few weeks ago in therapy.  And I do believe I mentioned it in a blog post.  I've found myself more and more numb. Conflicted if it is a good thing or bad. NOt sure what to think about it.  Yet, as I cut back more at night...that numbness lessons.  Night terrors start slipping back.  Shame and disgust at so many things begin to creep in more and more.  

This post has went no where. It is my own random ramblings.  Trying to sort the crazy's that are plaguing my ever waking moment.  I've never felt so under attack as I do right now...every where I turn. Afraid to ask for help in fear of being judged, critized even more, told it is my own fault (bc damn it all I know it...I don't need to be told it) and thinking back to Jodi's words from my last appt...I need to do it myself. And truth be told...I don't know that I want to find the answers myself.  If I had them...I wouldn't be where I'm at right now. 

Oh Sh!t

I have spent the last couple hours in a whirlwind of anxiety.  As the hustle and bustle of today has come to an end....my mind begins to race.

I barely got out of bed this am.  I just wanted to lay and watch it rain out my bay window.  My dh and I decided to head out and about. 

Felt good to be out.  Pain was minimal in my shoulder.   My head hurt, though.

I received a phone call that changed the entire day.  It is/was a good one.   The long waited new psych appt....they had a 7am new patient spot....tmw!  I took the spot and my headache went from tolerable to nauseating to I came home and slept from about 1-5.  I would have been in bed longer but my son had a concert tonight and we were headed to a little diner for dinner. 

Since coming home and the kids are in bed...it is quiet.  And with that comes some big thoughts and feelings.

Finally found the intake paperwork.  And what should have been 10min took over 2 hours.

My previous experiences were not good...and...they have all came crashing back at me in a matter of several hours.

I'm ready to pull the blankets over my head and hope I am able to get up at the 530am alarm without to much turmoil.

Low of Lows for B12

Don't believe my B12 has ever reached the low that I'm at right now.  With it brings frustration, anger, and so many range of emotions.
Weekly injections seems to be the correct answer.  However, my insurance company believes that is not the answer.  I was able to double up but that can only happen every so many weeks.
Another side of gastric bypass that is not 'talked about in depth prior to surgery.  Today is my Friday.  Thank heaven!!

Medication 101

It isn't for everyone.

It is something I need.  Contrary to what I want to believe.... I need it.  

This weekend amid the chaos of traveling I misplaced my medication.  Thinking I would certainly find it sooner than later.  I found it...late as in VERY VERY late Sunday night while packing to come home.  In my tablet carry case.  I not once opened or used my tablet so it didn't occur that I should look there.

By Sunday...day 3 w/o... I was feeling like I definitely needed them.  Put them in my bathroom bag which I planned on bringing with me home.  Instead put them in the stuff my friend was bringing home for me.

Four days sans medication....I know they are needed!!

Confirmation in a small way that they are helping in a small manner.  Even at a small dose.

Therapy, Psychiatrist, Medication Management ..

After a great deal of thought I have decided to make an appt with a different psychiatrist. Specifically one that is experienced with gastric bypass patients.

At my last appt the beginning of December my pdoc made it clear she had no other options for medication nor was she willing to try anything.  I understand where she is coming from. However, I do not agree.  I respect Dr. SB and have for the entire 12 yrs that she has been my psychiatrist. I do not foresee switching 100%.  My hopes are that Dr S will correlate care w/Dr. SB.   It would be awesome if my current pdoc could do this without me having to wait 3+ months for an appt.  I attempted to discuss this with her in December when I last saw her.  She wasnt hearing me and therefore it wasnt an option.  And I'm certain that my current emotional stability st that time wasnt the best either and so getting my thoughts across didn't work to my benefit.
I'm my opinion she believes that seeing my current therapist J* and continuation of DBT is what will be helpful.  I hv no doubts she is correct.

The deal is this....I am at the end of the 6 month course for DBT....the last module to be exact.   I have no plans on continuous group therapy.   It's just not happening! !

I generally see my therapist biweekly.   Sometimes more or less. Which depending upon where I am at ...depends on how much I gain or don't.  I have been in therapy for a hell of a long time.  And more recently just touched upon the tip of the iceberg.  With appts being biweekly I often feel as though it is just what I mentioned...touching upon the tip of the iceberg.  And then another 2 weeks pass and we are back at the rinse and repeat montra. We discuss from time to time what I do/don't need.  And the wall is up.....I don't know what I need.  If I don't know than how the hell am I to expect her to know?  Part of the not knowing comes from past negative therapy experiences.  And even though deep inside me I trust and respect J*....the wall is there.  As we have touched very lightly on the tip of this iceberg......another wall goes up.  The negative experiences come flooding back.  I loose insight on the trust that had been built over the last 3-4 years.  And we rinse and repeat again and again.

I know what I NEED...I just don't trust myself.  And certainly don't trust anyone else. 
There has been a shift in noticing different thoughts, feelings, physical pain, and so forth over the last 2 weeks.  I'm not ready to share them here at this point.

Severe anxiety and suicidal thoughts have ran rampant over the last several days and continue to do so.  How I will ever wait till April is beyond me.  And that isn't even saying this new Dr will treat me w/o coordination of care with my current pdoc.  Which just leads to more time.  I failed to mention that I have had a rather not-so-good experience with this Dr before my WLS.  And he is a man.  I need someone to go with me....just not my husband! !  Unfortunately, having somone go isn't an option and I can only pray that I'm in somewhat of a good space before and do not end up on the end canceling my appt.  I have a history of freaking out and canceling appts.

~Somedays~

Updated to add: I had someone close to me who read this post and called to check in.  When I wrote this out I was in a bit of a tizzy between kids demanding my attention, husband demanding I go out to eat w/him and the kids and I just wanted to sit in my robe and lay on the couch w/my son, and....I did go to work for my AM shift.  It was my afternoon shift that I missed.


The only expecation I need can give myself is the permission to just be. 

And in the process.....
It  is not very pretty.
It includes me not leaving my room.
It includes me working only to come home so completely spent that I can't give anything to my family.
It includes me not working.

I knew I was not ready to go back to work. I knew that I was barely hanging on by a thread and that thread was pretty damn thin.  Even though I was doing better...I wasn't doing better.

I know my husband really wanted and felt that I needed to go back to work.
I know that financially we need me to work.
I know that my therapist feels that it is more productive and healthy for me to work.
I know that my psychiatrist agrees with my therapist. 
I knew that I was not reaady to return to work.

And here I am.....having worked 5 full days...and working a 1/2 shift yesterday bc my anxiety was so incredible bad.  And then today....anxiety and depression mixed together has made for one hell of a mess.  And in the process I will end up getting reprimanded at work bc I had myself in such a f*cking tizzy that I didn't call in sick w/in the time frame. I actually, ATTEMPTED to go to work...only didn't get there.  Then when I called they told me to come anyway...and well I couldn't so I ended up calling in sick after getting charged w/a late-out.  FUCKING SUCKS!!  I've never gotten a late-out and I'm stressing in a way that isn't even cool.  And all I can think about today is thinking about ending this battle. 


And sooo.....SOMEDAYS...when things are bad this is what I end up doing to 'tune' out the rest of the world...

It sometimes includes me editing photographs.
It sometimes includes me listening to Y.outube videos.  The same one...over and over and over....such as this one:



and dying my hair...REALLY REALLY RED!!

Slippery Slope

...those meds!!

I'm at a loss.  I will continue taking Welbutrin. Only because something is better than nothing.  I will probably not even tell my psychiatrist next week when I see her that the slope is slippery and I'm trying to not slide down it again.  What is the use?  She's already rx'd everything to me w/no success....  And thus leads me back to why say anything.

Light Bulb

Last night was rough.  One of the worst this week.  All things considered the week has gone fairly well.  Sure, I was more than pissed at my psychiatrist yesterday for several different reasons.  Sure, the day was a tad stressful.  However, by evening fall that had all subsided and I had a pleasant evening with my family. 

The night looked something like this....Sleep was no where around.  After waking several times, as in every 30-45 minutes...it  involved me attempting to wake my husband sometime around 2-2:30 am.  He made it clear to me last week he wanted me to wake him on nights that I wake and am struggling.  Specifically with "one way out, there is no fix, things would be much better for my family if I was no longer around...." thinking.  He would not wake up. I went from my bed to a hot shower.  The hot shower didnt' snap me out of this spin.  I sat at the kitchen table in the dark for around 30 minutes drinking a Dt Pepsi and overdosing on chocolate.

I woke in a definate mood.  One that said THANK GOD I am not working today.  Thank God....I have today for me!  I couldn't bring myself to snap out of it.  While showering, my face stung from falling tears. And the gament of thoughts..... Why?  WHY?  I'm supposed to be better?  I'm supposed to be able to work?  I'm supposed to be functional? Is being off work really decreasing my ability to function? I dont' agree. I've done fairly well this week all things considered.  Struggling with suicidal thoughts has really been at bad since the end of last week.  Few fleeting moments here and there.  Nothing more than a few thoughts here and there of hopelessness. 

Struggling with all og the above, I got out of the shower.  Determined to get things done today.  I needed to shampoo my carpets, pick up a few groceries and make a cake today.  All things that I could have done last night (except the cake) but I was tired and b*tchy so I waited till today.

My psychiatrist agreed to give w.elbutrin another try.  I opened the cupboard and a RX bottle fell out. 

The light bulb CLICKED on really BRIGHT!!

My conversation with my husband was one that was rather tough.  He was mad.  Very mad.  At me. He didn't have to say much to make me know that he was upset with me.  I know why.

Shortly after having a lil' discussion with my husband and the light bulb clicking; my husband gave me a shot of Vitamin B12.  It has been a really long time since I've had one.  As in really long time.  We filled the this afternoon after he gave me the injection.  I will have him give me another injection in a week to give me a boost.

And....here is a lil diddy from depression.com about B12.  Because of my gastric bypass this is just another thing that due to malapsorption is an issue.

Vitamin B12: Because vitamin B12 is important to red blood cell formation, deficiency leads to an oxygen-transport problem known as pernicious anemia. This disorder can cause mood swings, paranoia, irritability, confusion, dementia, hallucinations, or mania, eventually followed by appetite loss, dizziness, weakness, shortage of breath, heart palpitations, diarrhea, and tingling sensations in the extremities.  When shortages do occur, they are often due to a lack of intrinsic factor, an enzyme that allows vitamin B12 to be absorbed in the intestinal tract. Since intrinsic factor diminishes with age, older people are more prone to B12 deficiencies.

Struggling to remind myself to just breathe! 

Yesterday wasn't such a good day.  My husband had a few doctor appts.  I got up and rode with him. Spent a few hours in the car.  The alternative would be that I stayed home.  And staying home would have meant it would have been a very large struggle to get myself to stay up and out of bed.  So I went with him.

We went to lunch at the mall and headed to J.CP for a Christmas gift that my son showed my husband last night he loved.  We had a $10 off coupon.  The gift we bought ended up costing $3.17 and I couldn't be happier about that.  Need to love the coupons that flood your mailbox this time of year.  Many go in the garbage.

There are many positives that happened today and I am trying very hard to focus on just that...and breathe!! 

I'm struggling to keep the hopeless thoughts and thinking at bay. I don't understand it. I don't get it.  It sucks!

~~~~

I've never been a med seeker. I hate medication.  I also don't take it willingly.  I don't agree with my pdocs choice to leave things at bay.  I understand her stance. I understand where she is coming from.  It doesn't mean I have to agree with it.  Somehow, her thoughts of continue with the Fearless Living Group and individual thearpy is what is needed right now.  I don't. 

~~~~

I woke up yesterday morning with a clear head.  Excited it was a new week.  And ready to return to work.  Tonight, the thought of returning to work is incredible horrifying.  Not because I dont' want to work. I want to work. I miss my coworkers. I really do miss the good customers.  Of course, I don't miss the politics and such that comes along with my job.  However, that will always be there.  I get that. I am worried that if I return on Friday and in a week when I see my pdoc she does agree and/or decide to try some sort of medication...I will be back to square one.  And financially....we cant' afford for me to go back to work only to end up for me to be off again and have to start that waiting period all over.  So...there needs to be big clarifications this week.

~~~~

BTW: Insomnia SUX!!  Thus why this post is being wrote at 4:30-5am.

~Everyday~

I tell myself..."this too shall pass..."   And with every day I believe it less and less.  It will I know that. I really do.  However, at that moment in time (or right now) it is rather hard to believe....this too shall pass.

I seen my chiro yesterday morning before another appt that I had.  My shoulder and ribs have been bothering me (nothing unusual to be honest) more and more.  He agreed that taking it easy yesterday wouldn't be a bad idea.  He also told me he didn't believe I should work the weekend.  I decided taking last night off would be the lessor of two evils when it came to working and loosing hours.  So I called in sick last night.  Hoping and believing that I could work tonight and Sunday.  Monday and Tuesday are my days off this week.  I ended up calling in sick today. It's a good thing to be honest.

Day 3 of taking this lovely med didn't go as bad as the first night.  However, my body and mind already knew what to expect.  I didn't vomit as much last night as the two previous nights.  But enough to be frustrating all the same.

I've had an upset stomach.  Today it is much worse.  Sour, muted, stinky breathe and gassy stomach.   I stink.  Everything about me stinks. I can't shower enough. I can't brush my teeth enough.  I crave ICE COLD drinks and ICE!!!  I can't get enough the more I drink.  The more I want.  The more ice I chew the more I want.  I've made several home-made icee's.  It isn't enough.  I can't get this taste out of my mouth.  My tongue - oh' dear lord my tongue...it feels as though I've burnt it over and over and over again. 

Sleeping is an issue.  Yet, it always is an issue.  It's different though.  And I'm not sure if it is med related or not. 

I've read a little bit about the side effects.  I'm trying hard not read anything online about side effects.  I believe very strongly that every single med has a side effect that will be an issue and cause you to not want to take it if you truly don't want to take a medication.  I dislike taking ANY and ALL medications...even pain pills such as tylonal.  So I've read only the basics.

I'm in a little better space than I was the last couple of posts.  I'm thankful for beautiful friends, even though they are 5 hours away, who listen w/o passing judgement.  Who make me laugh, when I really don't think I could laugh at all.  Who get it w/o trying to fix me (giving me ideas and such is not FIXING.....just so you know. hehehehe)  You know who you are and thank you so incredible much.

A Little Reminder

because...I need it today in a really bad way.

**warning:  raw and choppy**

Find myself thinking from time to time:

This will be the day. 

The day that the sun will shine brighter.

The day that my shoulders feel lighter. 

The day that Debbie Downer will go the hell home and stay the frick away from here.

From time-to-time I read different sayings that are positive and uplifting.  Basically stating if you think positive things...you will feel positive and feel better.  Screw that!  I'm here to tell you that even though I've not been positive all that often...I've tried it.  I've sat and read uplifting things for hours upon hours over the last several weeks.   I guess I'm not faithful enough or positively positive enough to have it work its magic or some damn thing on me.



I am especially tired today.  Not physically so much.  I was in bed by 12:30am (after I took the new medication for the first time and then spend several minutes puking and trying not to freek the hell out bc my tongue was tingling and numb.) And got up out of bed at 12:30pm.  I did not sleep that entire time.  I woke up around 9:30am and dozed off and on until I got up and showered.

My kids are home from school today.  My husband left with them shortly after 9:30am.  I thought he wanted to meet for lunch.  Which is why I got up and showered. I called him at 12:45 to see where they were and he responded with 'at the food court eating lunch'.  A few short 'oh I thought we were going to meet for lunch comments from me' and I hung up.  In tears.  One puddle of tears that hasn't stopped.

I miss my kids something fierce.  I've worked pms for 3 straight weeks and looks like I will be working another week of pms next week. Which is okay.  Yet, I miss my kids.  When I am home I feel so disconnected from them and what they are doing.

My son will be baptised next weekend.  And even this event and the planning around it....I've not been a part of. Not one bit of it.  I want to.  I've been informed of the date and time by my husband.  I've only mentioned it to a few people...as in 2.  I mentioned it to my mom a few days ago when she was here.  Knowing she would not be interested in coming (she's very anti-LDS) and not be supportive.  She will be to my son but then will makes snide hurtful comments to me later on. 

I have said over and over and over and over again....I get up again and again....because of my kids.  And yet....I'm not there for them.  So why continue getting up?  Why continue fighting this ugly efn fight?

Weary

I've had a little break from the downward spiral I had been in.

Struggling to find a happy-medium with the medication combo I'm on.  I have had issues with malabsorption since my gastric bypass several years ago.  And, since that time it has been frustrating finding a middle ground.

I'm not a medication fan.  I'm frustrated right now and having a very hard time not saying forget it. 

Today would be one of those days if you asked me 'are you glad you had gastric bypass? '  I would have to be very honest and say no.  Weary is the only real thing that comes to mind.