Mental & Emotional Health

You know, as I mentioned in a previous post, I have seen some real crazy doctors.  And, had I been as smart man years ago to know that they not only don’t know everything, they also don’t always even tell you what they do know.

What does that mean exactly?

Well, no one every told me that I should have stopped the anti-depressants but slowly through a weaning process.  And now, now I can’t wean off of them no matter how hard I try.  Not that I have tried in a while but at this point, I am very aware of chemical imbalances and I am certain that my body is dependent in so many ways. 

But, I did make a decision to attempt to wean myself form xanaflex but I didn’t do it correctly and I have experienced some really horrible feelings in the last week.  First of all, I quit sleeping much.  I am having a hard time going to sleep at night and then I’m droggy during the day but can’t nap.  And, most importantly the back pain or tail bone pain has returned with a vengance.  However, I’ve made it a week and I am not going back unless it just becomes unbearable.

The problems with weaning was I didn’t really wean, I just quit them cold turkey when I ran out.  So, I’ve experiences the insomnia, the return of tailbone pain and some really serious jitters.  Add to that the running out of xanax which I don’t use it everyday, but I do use it when I’ve worked late and have a particularly hard time with the boys.  My boys are 4 and 6 and are really very very active.  Sometimes it’s difficult to cope.

I refilled that script today because I was having heart palpitations that I couldn’t quell and it was just necessary.  So, my suggestion to you is that if you find you need to wean, do it the right way, don’t quit cold turkey.

Sounds like common sense and I didn’t need this little experiment to know that.  I’ve tried to quit before cold turkey and it made me sick.  So, I knew better, I just thought I could do it.  I couldn’t.

Anyway, doctors need to be responsible for the drugs they dispense but patients have to take the responsibility for managing them right. 

And, that’s my 2 bits of advice for now.

Well, here we are, 5 whole months gone by since I broke a bone in my ankle.  Five excruciatingly long months…later…and I am in a cast still.  I can’t really say how I “feel” about it because doggone it, my mom threatened me with the idea that my grammy might come visit me.  My house is a wreck.  My grammy?  A clean freak…

My mom told me yesterday that my aunt said she might bring my Grammy to my house.  And, panic set in.  My house is a pig sty.  A complete house of filth.  Wayne doesn’t help with the cleaning too much even when I am able to do some of it, but now that I have been in a cast for 1/2 of 2009 – ok, not half but it will be by the time I get rid of this stupid cast.

So, if Grammy shows up and I quit showing up here…look for me somewhere dead of embarrassment and just plain getting a beating from my grammy.  All 95 pounds of her will surely beat me silly.

Mom said that she hoped I knew that if my Grammy comes to see me, she will worry herself silly over my grass that is waist high.  No, kidding, it is as usual, waist high to a giraffe.  My husband not your lawn mowing freak that I would like him to be.  He just drives me batty instead of driving a tractor.

So, be on the look out for me, If I disappear….call Grammy…

I am going to be as vague as possible here.  This is a little too close to home for comfort but honestly, I haven’t laughed this hard in some time.  And laughter, oh laughter is so good for the soul.

This little boy, 6 years old, has discovered his penis.  He plays with it constantly.  All day long he has his hands in his underwear.  Now, I would be concerned but this is just a new development.  He has pneumonia and has been sick for several days, no playing outside, no running and ripping and sitting still for at least 15 minutes 3 times a day for breathing treatments. 

So today, his grandmother threatened to chop of hiss hands if he didn’t quit.  She sent him to wash his hands numerous times when she caught him.  Yes, he is sick and lounging in his underwear. 

The funny thing is the text message between the kids mom and dad.  Mom tells dad he has to talk to the kid about this because it is going to be a big deal sooner than later.  Dad says give him some lexapro and it won’t ever happen again.  Mom and dad get a hefty laugh at the kids (and the dad’s) expense.

When it was bedtime, mom asked dad had he spoken with the child.  Dad says no but he hadn’t witnessed it.  Mom explained that the kid does it the whole time he is getting treatments.  And, the laughter commences.  The kids figure out they are talking in code and start asking questions.  Mom and dad are still laughing hysterically when mom says, “so when he is 13 an he grabs the breathing machine and announces that he is going to his bedroom because he needs a breathing treatment, do not be alarmed”

Laughter commenced, fun times yes, indeed, fun times.

I am quite frequently amused by the skill level of my oldest son.  And, then, just recently he booted up a computer that wasn’t even plugged up.  Yea, electrical sockets, ergh.  And, he politely went to pbskids.org and commenced to playing a game. 

School starts back in early August and I am a bit apprehensive about his teacher because we don’t know who it will be.  And, there is one that I absolutely will not allow.  I hate to be that way, I hate to say things about other educators but this one teacher is vile.  She is poison and pathetic. 

And, so, we will commence to work on that 2 page list of supplies that we anticipate will be rolling out soon.  I know some of the parents get their child’s list for the next year before school ever got out so that they can buy things in small amounts over the course of the summer.  And, if you have 3 or 4 children, then absolutely, that would be necessary.

They only put out one list for each grade so that isn’t really that difficult to get a list early.  And, I’m telling you, these lists are no small feat.  I didn’t get the list like I said and we won’t buy supplies until the tax free shopping date anyway so no big deal.

I’m rambling, I’m tired so please forgive me.  This is probably a dumb question but those of you who homeschool do you basically spread your teaching out over the year?  I know learning never stops but I’m talking about the stuff that you required to “report” and the like, that’s what I was wondering about it.

I have been given some bad medical advice in the past.  That would be an understatement.  I have been given some really bad medial advice.  But, one of the problems I deal with is chronic pain.  Before anyone starts yelping about drugs and all that, trust me, I didn’t want to be addicted to anything.

But, with the death of Michael Jackson and really prior to that, the death of Anna Nicole Smith, I was, have or are taking multiple combinations of drugs that those 2 used.  I became much more conscious of what was going on.  I didn’t take their advice that I needed to just stick with this anti-depressant or pain medication.  But, I did take a chiropractor (I love them) turned neurologists’ advice and I used the drug xanaflex.  And, quickly, I became addicted.  This doctors protocal requires drug testing at ever quarterly visit so that he knows that his patients are taking the medication he is prescribing and obviously not selling it. 

That’s fine except my insurance doesn’t pay for those and they aren’t cheap. So, I decide that I didn’t need the xanaflex.  And, when I ran out.  I didn’t have any refills and I did not make an appointment.  And, the withdrawal symptoms have been horrible.  I’m not happy and now, as I look around the internet, percocet, another drug I used regularly over a year ago is now on the hot list. 

What is going on?  Why can’t we trust our doctors?  Pain is what it is and I have my fair share of it.  Heck I’d like to see the average person who is used to going and coming and doing things with their kids break a leg and wear a cast non-mobile for 5 months without seriously  considering a wide variety of nerve calming medication.

Just try it, see how it works out for you.

I have written in depth about Michael Jackson on many of my blogs…as has most of the blogging world.  Is it really something that one person could touch so many people’s lives and he lived basically as a recluse.  He rarely went out, he wore masks, he covered his children’s faces and he basically did everything he could do to stay out of the limelight. 

Except for when he was the limelight.  He was the superstar.  Then, he was good at what he did and then…back to plain obscurity.  I honestly am not sure what to think about the man.  I mean, he was a great artist.  He and Lionel Ritche wrote We Are The World and neither of them can read or write music.  That is talent.

But, he could just couldn’t manage to stay out of trouble.  The lawsuits, the drug rehab and the plastic surgeries, over and over again.  He probably was addicted to pain medication.  If he did indeed have 13 plastic surgeries, he was probably given your everyday pain killers for a long time.  And, then, they quit working and you have to up the anti.  So, what’s to do right?

Showbiz keeps asking is it too early to talk about his trash.  Well, since no one was mentioning his trash until he was dead?  I don’t know, do they think Michael somehow pulled that off too?  I mean, come on.  He was what he was and that is he was one of the most talented musicians ever.  The one, the only?  I don’t know that it is necessarily the case.  But, definitely an elite.  One of the few.

Let’s just hope his children can move on, get closure and live a semi normal life.  Lest Mr. Jackson thrust them into the spotlight and puts them on stage immediately.  Singing…and dancing…of course.  See I didn’t even touch on what a skilled dancer he was.  Yea, let’s just leave it be one more day.

Deb Beaulieu received her Bachelor of Arts in English, with a minor in psychology, from Salem (MA) State College in 2001. For the past eight years, Deb has worked as a journalist and editor for various publications in the insurance and healthcare trade press. She lives in the Boston area with her husband and two young children. In April 2009, she launched her first parenting blog—www.spawnocalypse.com—where readers come to laugh, cringe, and relate. Deb is also an avid long-distance runner who completed the Cape Cod Marathon in 2004.

********************************

I’ve almost always had the self-awareness to know that I was generally a happier person as long as I got the chance to do two things every day (or close to it): run and write.

If I go too long without sweating and typing it out, I get—for lack of a better expression—mentally constipated. I get irritable, lethargic, and generally unpleasant to be around. Throughout my teens and early 20s, I stayed on track through self-discipline and the occasional reminder from friends and family (aka victims of my wrath).

But enter back-to-back pregnancies and two under two, and these mission-critical outlets became compromised. No, it wasn’t physically impossible to jog with my bump or journal my thoughts when the babies were napping, but it just wasn’t practical. Until my youngest was about a year old, I spent any and all free time either sleeping or doing housework while wishing I was sleeping.

I still had my editing job and plenty of exercise pushing the double stroller, so I managed to muddle through feeling only half-jammed. Most of the time, my babies were my focus—a sacrifice I do not regret one bit.

But reclaiming my pre-parenting loves has been more fulfilling than I could have imagined. Today, I’m content if I get to lace up three times a week. And I train and race for sheer enjoyment of the sport; at least for now, I’m 100% free of the stress to compete. And blogging couldn’t be a better fit with my writing needs and style. After months of letting myself down by not jotting a single word of the novel I’ve always wanted to write, I found a way to get those ideas down before they evaporate—and meet a whole other community of writing moms.

When the kids are in school or too old to want their daily shenanigans shared in public, I very well might get around to penning that book.

So, what’s your personal prescription for happiness?

What are your challenges to filling it and how do you overcome them?

Do you think we were just so shocked that Michael Jackson died and we knew that Farrah was going to leave us at any time that we totally forgot to pay respects to the fact that she was a great Angel?  How do celebrities fit into your life?

I’ve never been a big celebrity watcher but I love athletes.  But, I did grow up on Charlie’s Angels and my high school was filled with Michael Jackson.  My early years of college had a little MJ tucked in it too.  After that I was busy with the other MJ, Micheal Jordan of course.  But, how do they affect our lives?

Do you think the people who say they loved MJ and they just want to show their love and support need to back off and give this family time to grieve?  Do they need to back off and let this family have their father, brother, and son back?  Are we over-bearing as a society and thin that we are entitled to something from him just because he left a huge legacy?

I’m just curious how many of you this feel like you were touched in a greater way than when one of your own relatives have died.  How many of you wish Farrah had been given more face time and her family more support?  Death is difficult people, very very difficult.  How do you cope?

Most of you know and read my other blogs so you know that my mom and I are very toxic when together.  My husband and mother are never in the same place at the same time if they can help it.  That said, I am married to one of the best men on the planet.  But, because he doesn’t do what my mom wants him to do on her time demands (or mine for that matter), she is very difficult when it comes to him. 

And, before my kids were born, she was adamant that I let my husband discipline our kids and that I not step-in and baby the kids.  But now, she doesn’t like the way my husband handles the kids.  My husband doesn’t like the way my mother handles them and neither of them like the way I handle the kids.

What about me?  I think that my kids are going to need some counseling when the three of us are finished with them.  My parents did a number on me.  Honestly, they fought, they disagreed and they basically acted as if they hated one another.  They divorced when I was 4.

I see my counselor and I know that I have to do what I have to do for myself.  But the fact remains, I don’t want my kids to have these issues.  How difficult could it be to be good to your kids and do the right thing and expect the others who are suppose to love them to do the same?

The following post is a guest post written by Deb Beaulieu.  You can find her on her own blog at Spaqnocaplypse.

Deb Beaulieu received her Bachelor of Arts in English, with a minor in psychology, from Salem (MA) State College in 2001. For the past eight years, Deb has worked as a journalist and editor for various publications in the insurance and healthcare trade press. She lives in the Boston area with her husband and two young children. In April 2009, she launched her first parenting blog—www.spawnocalypse.com—where readers come to laugh, cringe, and relate. Deb is also an avid long-distance runner who completed the Cape Cod Marathon in 2004.

***************************************

I’ve worked hard to like myself, to have a positive outlook, to put the brakes on the self-destructive roller coaster I rode for more than half my life. But not everyone in my life has done the same. They may not be abusive or mentally unwell per se, and certainly not evil, but almost every word out of their mouths makes me agitated and sad.

I’m not willing to quit my immediate family, but for more than a decade I’ve kept them at arm’s length and felt better for it. I didn’t realize until I lived away at college—a place where aspirations were applauded rather than resented—how freely I could live. It was also refreshing not to have to get up early and hang the sun for anyone day in and day out.

The main person I’m referring to here is my mother. Though I don’t mean to pick on her, her attitude has had a ripple effect on how I interact with the rest of the family. You see, in the aftermath of my parents’ divorce, I became the literal center of my mom’s world.

Instead of therapy or friends or a hobby, my 40-something mom turned to a nine-year-old to vent her frustrations and pain. The anguish she suffered from my dad’s betrayal was real and not her fault, and I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt that she didn’t know our relationship was harmful. (There were a lot of good parts, too. Throughout my adolescence, I was much more open with my mom than my friends felt they could be with theirs.)

But I envied the pressure my friends felt to succeed. While they were studying hard and touring colleges, my mom scoffed at even giving me a ride to take the SATs (which I’d studied for with a tattered guide one of my teachers was going to throw out). “What do you need to take those for?” she sneered. I recognized at age 16 that her plan—subconscious and unintentional, I’m sure (I hope)—was to sabotage my future so I’d stay put and nurture her needs indefinitely.

Until I got married and began raising my own family, I felt a lot of guilt for leaving the roost, even though I knew I was a better person for it. Today, I cringe when I hear my mom lament that my son and daughter—her only grandchildren thus far—are the only happy thing in her life.

So even though my kids adore their grammy, I keep the calls and visits to a minimum. I stay away even longer after a particularly pleasant exchange—so I can enjoy feeling normal for a while.

My solution to dealing with toxic family members is probably not ideal, and somewhat cowardly, but I feel a confrontation would do more harm than good. At least for the foreseeable future, I can accept that this is the way things are.

Do you continue relationships that threaten your emotional well-being? How do you handle the poisonous people in your life?

***************

For those of you reading this who think that I wrote this under a pseudo name?  I didn’t, but it certainly does parallel my own life in a many ways.  There are a few difference, I have only one child and my torment started at age 4 not 9.  But, this is absolutely what I would like to have written regarding my own family.  Amazing stuff! 

So, I ask you, how so you handle these issues?

The poison within us…not our family members but us.  The plain and simple thing called a conscious.  Or the self-conscious if you will.  I’ve avoided many circumstances and situations all in the name of being embarrassed.  I stepped out on a limb a couple of times but it’s rare.  And, the few times I’ve given my esteem a boost and done it, I feel like I was knocked on my butt.

I don’t do real well with rejection, I mean who does.  I don’t do well with not being successful.  I am not talking about being a billionaire here.  I’m talking about simply thinking I could change the life of a career criminal.  A drug user, one that will always be a drug user and will most likely live out his days in prison.  And, he is not even 50.  As a matter of fact, he has spent all but about 4 years in prison since he was 18.  I guess he is…45 now…give or take. 

I wanted to change him.  I wanted to make people smarter by helping them and doing things for them, showing them the way.  I wanted to teach and I was not good at it (not on the level of small children anyway).  So, by writing these blogs, I’m definitely out of my comfort zone and I’m trying to prove myself.

And therein lies the big deal.  Prove myself to whom?  Myself?  How silly.  Or is it?  What about you?  How do you fare when you step out on a limb?  Tell me, I need the encouragement right now.

My husband aid he didn’t want kids to start with.  I talked him into one and he said one and only one.  Then, I talked him into two.  No way he way he says, two is too expensive.  Now, here we are 8 years later with 2 gorgeous awesome stupendous wonderful boys. 

Even still, my husband wasn’t fond of parenting.  I mean, he doesn’t like the discipline part even now and he does have to do most of it.  But, this year, he helped coach their t-ball team and he loved it.  He laughed, he hollered, he got excited, he enjoyed it.  I never dreamed I would see the day that my husband that has never ever played a day of a sport in his life was helping coach.

It all just kind of happened by accident.  And, we had the most awesome day yesterday with the boys end of the season baseball party.  On the way home, my husband mentioned that this was his first ever involvement with team sports (or any sport for that matter) and he ha a blast yesterday.

Of course, I have this cast on my foot still so he had to do the water park and the like yesterday and when we got home, he crashed.  He got in the tub for a long bath, then, he fell asleep on the bed sideways.  He got up long enough to move to the sofa and sleep a couple of hours and then back to bed with the boys.

Today, he got up with the boys, sent them off to church with my mom and he watched endless crime shows all day.  He watched racing this afternoon and then to bed with the boys.

Yea, he had a great Father’s Day….he left his computer at work but I sent him a really sweet email that he will read in the morning…maybe I can actually get him to admit how much he loves being a father………

You know, socially, I am a butterfly. I hate sitting in one spot.  I hate not being with the crowd.  I hate not knowing the conversation across the room.  I hate not thinking up a reason to just meander over to a group and invite myself into a conversation.

But, as long as I have this cast on my foot, my wings are clipped.  or glued together or something.  Today was my boy’s baseball end of the season party.  I got out of the truck, parked myself and sat until then I hobbled to the pool, watched my kids and hobbled back to a car with no air conditioning. 

Apparently the belt does something whacky and this is the 2nd one in a year.  So, we will see.  All I know is I can’t make it without my air conditioner…and my socializing.  I want to socialize.  I want to get out there.  That’s what makes me happy.

I wrote blogs, I belong to forums and groups because I like to communicate, I like people and that’s what makes me happy.  And, this was the first time I was going to get to attend blogging conference (and I have gone to a few) but doggone it, I’ve been hop-a-long Cassidy at every one.  And, airports aren’t real thrilled with those big bulky boots any more than I am.

I had high hopes of going to Blogher in July without a cast or a boot…but it doesn’t appear that this is going to happen.  Sounds wonderful eh?

So, like I was saying, I am in a serious funk.  My foot is certainly not cooperating and as it is right now I am most likely going to be going to Blogher with the biggest ugliest accessory known to man. 

Wait, no, not a wheel chair but I am telling you,if you think there is anything fashionable about that big ugly gray boot?  Then you are NUTS.

So, with that, I complain.  I am sitting at a state park in the pavillion with one of the coaches while the rest of the adults along with the kids are all gone to the water. That would be the water that I cannot get in and enjoy because I am bound to this freakin’ chair.   I know I could look at the positive side of things and figure at least I don’t have to clean or cook or keep up with these kids.

But, as we near June 22nd, we will be approaching five months in a couple of days and dadblameit, I am sick of this doggone cast.  I am absolutely ready to get a hacksaw and start cutting. 

No lie, I tried to stretch last night and got it in a crooked position in the cast and it wouldn’t straighten up.  I basically had to just do my best and go to sleep and let it relax.  So, with that….I got up this morning and it really wasn’t as bad this morning. 

It hurt pretty bad today but I was on and off it quite a bit, hauling my big ol’ backside around with a walker and crutches and a big ugly cast.  People were commenting on the great color of it…you know, I started with pink.  It was happy happy and was suppose to help make me happy.

My next one was purple, dark purple and it didn’t do much for my mood either.  Now, neon orange…it’s a beauty but it clashed with my nail polish.  Plus, it was getting chipped and definitely needs to be repainted…..but…being without free time, I jut removed the old polish on the toes I could get to and left it on the ones I couldn’t……making me feet look really ugly.

You can darn well bet that no matter how I get to Blogher and what I am wearing on my left leg, my nails will look better…much much better.

My mood lately has been a tough one to nail down.  My leg is still hurting.  I’m tired of wearing a cast.  I’m tired of being waited on hand and foot.  Yes, at one point that sounds all good but after so long, you just want to be able to do for yourself.  I don’t want to have to ask someone to go into the kitchen and get me a drink when I could do it myself.

Well, I could go, but that requires me trying to figure out how to get back to the family room and sit down.  So, I pull out the good ol’ plastic bags and I load it up with the items I want.  That is getting old as well. 

Now, add to that the fact that my children know that I am semi-debilitated.  If they are in harms way, then I can get to them because if my kids are hurting, I will crawl to them if I have to.  But, because they know I can’t get to them to keep them from scaling the pantry shelves or whacking one another in the head,

So, we left with but one alternative and that is my mom watches the boys a lot.  Now, my mom’s parenting style might not be found in any textbook, well if it is under the parts where it discussing lack of discipline.section. 

It’s hard being confined and I go to the doctor on Thursday to see just what the deal is.  I suspect yet another cast but maybe the walking boot…maybe the walking boot..