Mental & Emotional Health

Today when I went to my monthly appointment for counseling and doctor visit, I made the request to change my medication from cymbalta to something more cost effective.  The doctor worded it as cost prohibitive but whatever, it cost too doggone much. 

So, he asked what other drugs we had tried and since the file was thicker than most phone books, we started a discussion based on my memory.  I told him that I had taken paxil when I was pregnant with my children and as far as I could remember it worked alright when I was pregnant but not so well afterwards.  And, I mentioned that I took prozac for many years on end. 

So, he asked if I had a preference and since my memory serves me that one of the side effects of prozac is lack of appetite, I decided to go that route.  I know that sounds crazy but prozac really did help me for twelve years or more and I know the paxil didn’t do as well when I wasn’t pregnant.

So, prozac it is.  It will cost me much less ($5.17 a month versus $60 a month for cymbalta) than the cymbalta but the true test will be my mood, my cranky, aggravating disposition. 

I am a sleeper.  I’ve always been a sleeper.  I make jokes with people about it because it is quite spectacular to see just how much I can sleep. I once had a roommate that wouldn’t leave me alone about joining her and her friends for movies and pizza or just drinking beer and watching ball games.  I never could make her understand, I enjoyed sleeping.  I finally telling her that I wasn’t really sleeping, I was meditating.  I swear, for me, it was just as healing as meditation.

I’ve made jokes over the years about how the life in my dreams is better than the one in reality so why not sleep when I get a chance.  People simply dismissed it as depression and medicated me.  As you may or may not know, most anti-depressants may have a sleepy effect.  So, that wasn’t always a great idea.

For some one who could sleep as much as I could, I had problems going to sleep and then, I’d wake all during the night.  It was ridiculous.  For many years I took over the counter sleep aids, then I graduated to prescription medications.  The problem remained.  I’ve tried a variety of the popular sleep medications on the market, prescription and non-prescription.  The anxiety I have though was much stronger than the any sleep aid out there. 

Ambien made me hallucinate.  And, I tried it several times over a five year span and I would always return to the same hallucination.  It really was nutty.  So, doctors would keep playing with sleep inducing drugs.  But, as I’ve told you several times, I found a doctor who specializes in chronic pain as well as mood disorders, emotional disorders, etc.  He really has been great for me.

He is the person who convinced me to go to the Sleep Clinic.  I do indeed have sleep apena.  And, I don’t take a sleep-aid to go to sleep, I take a very strong dose of a drug used to treat bi-polar disease.  I am not bi-polar, but I do have such a high strung personality that it takes a drug that strong to settle me into sleep.  The first night at the sleep clinic, even with the drug I normally take, I never entered the deepest zone of sleep.  The technicians were in awe.  He jokingly said that I also managed to run about 10 miles.

I returned to the clinic with doctors orders for a sleep apnea machine.  That night I entered the deepest zone of sleep approximately 45 minutes before time for me to get up.  However, I wasn’t waking 15 or 16 times an hour from sleep apnea and I managed to run a much shorter distance.  Success?

By most folks standards that would probably not be success.  I mean, I still have to take a drug that is made to treat a completely different illness in order to go to sleep, I have to sleep with the aid of a CP machine and I take a medication to curb the restless leg syndrome.  But, in my world, the fact that I make into a deep sleep every night means I rest more than I ever have before.  The legs remain still and it doesn’t take me hours upon hours to go to sleep.  (I remember having insomnia as early as age 8).

So, if any of this sounds familiar to you, please find yourself a good doctor, and a sleep clinic and get yourself taken care of.  I still love to take a nap.  I can be wide awake and plowing through my day and if someone suggest we quieten down and nap, I’m all over it.  I simply love to sleep.

The best I can tell, I was born to be a sleeper and my job is to dream.  As of late, I’ve been dreaming pretty doggone big too.  So, it can’t be all bad now can it?

I haven’t talked much about a couple of things here that are central to my life and possibly you can relate.  One of those is my weight.  I’m big.  I’m 200 pounds big.  I have diabetes and thyroid disorder but in recent weeks, I’ve made no effort to do anything about keeping my sugar regulated and thus I’m in a bouncy place of up 2 pounds, down 4, up 3, down 2, etc.

The other issue is that my mom and I aren’t very much alike.  That would really be the understatement of the year.  I am a lot like my father and with that, it is just normal I think that we wouldn’t be the best of friends.  My parents divorced when I was 4.  They fought until I was close to 18.

When you put those two issues together, you definitely get a memory that become a scar.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s more to the issue of my weight than simply my mom and the idea that we don’t get along, there’s way more there than just my mom.  (I’ll get to that later.)  But, the memory that stands out for me regarding my weight goes something like this.

I was getting married, for the first time.  I was terribly self-conscious of my shape.  I weighed about 140 pounds.  Other females my age were wearing clothing that suited their shapes.  Not me, I was covering myself up, ashamed that I had ballooned to 140 pounds once again.  (Later I put that same 140 pounds in a bikini and sported the beach with a little but more confidence, so it couldn’t have been that bad could it?) 

Back to my story, I saw myself on video from one of my bridal showers.  I was dumbfounded, I couldn’t believe that I could possibly be as big as I looked on the video.  So, I asked my mom if I was really that big.  And, what she said to me was, "well you certainly aren’t skinny".

I wasn’t asking if I was skinny, I was asking if I was a monster.  Hindsight, looking at those photos, no I wasn’t skinny, but that same body that was on video that I was made to feel ashamed of was not so shabby in a bikini just a couple of years later.  That memory, asking my mom, asking someone to boost my confidence as I headed into what was suppose to be the best day of my life…….became a scar.  

(I’ll tell you some more another day.)

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What did you think of my last post about the case I shared?  What do you think is happening with this child?

I wonder about the mental and emotional well-being of my own children.  They are only 3 and 5 but I am not generally the age of most of their peer’s parents.  Plus, sometimes I don’t think that my husband and I have the patience that we should with the boys.  I’m not sure if our age is going to play a role in a our ability to keep our boys active in the same kinds of things that other children have available to them. 

I went to school with several people who were born to women (parents) of "advanced maternal age" which is what it is called in the medical world.  Their lives were always different.  And usually their lives were different in a not-so-popular way.  Generally speaking these children didn’t get to be involved in as many extra-curricular activities, their parents were more stay-at-home-and-make-fun-for-yourself kind of parents and basically these children were as easy to label as were those of us who were only children or children of divorce.

My husband and I are extremely aware of how it can affect them.  But, when we punish our children, scold them, discipline them, they are extremely emotional.  I wonder if that is the case with children that have younger parents?  I wonder if we take life a little too seriously?  I wonder if my children we be labeled as "the kids with the old parents"?

What do you think? 

Do you remember peers that had older parents?

Was it you that parents that were older than most of your peers?

I take a particular anti-depressant known as Cymbalta.  It has really  helped me and I know that with it and the small dose of Welbutrin, I am a stable, happy person.  I’ll try to keep this short but if you’ve read here long, you know my fingers get diarrhea pretty often and just keep pecking away. 

Anyway, what I was trying to say was this, our insurance carrier made some changes to our coverage and not only were we not notified, it was as if someone slapped me in the face when I went to get my Cymbalta prescription filled. 

I take a fairly high dose of this medication and because of that we have had to have prior authorization from the insurance.  I had the authorization for 120 mg a day through last February.  It took until May for the doctor’s office and the insurance company to get it together to issue another authorization. 

But, even when I went to get the medication filled in July, it was not taken care of like it should have been.  So, I took a copy of the letter from the insurance company to the pharmacy.  The pharmacist was one of my best buddies in high school.and she called the insurance company and got the prescription and authorization  straight. 

Now, in the interim, my doctor would give me enough samples of the cymbalta so that I didn’t have to buy them out right.  At first the insurance company was going to let me have 60 capsules but only if I paid  2 $35 co-pays.  That’s when the doctor started giving me a 30 day supply and I would fill my prescription for the other 30 at 30 bucks a month.

Then, one day it was $35 for the co-pay.  And then, then the bottom fell out because when I picked the medication up last week, the lady said, $60.  I almost flipped my lid.  I paid it because what else was I suppose to do on a Saturday.  I was just planning to call the pharmacists and ask her about it. 

By the time I got around to calling her, she had already called my insurance company (it is good to have friends) and they informed her that I did indeed have an authorization for 60 pills (which is what I got for the 60 bucks) but that my co-pay for non-formulary drugs had gone up to $60.

I did flip when the words came out of her mouth.  I almost lost control of myself.  That’s freakin’ ridiculous ya’ll.  I know the medication is expensive.  I know I’m lucky to even have insurance when many people who need anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs do not.  I know I am lucky that my husbands employer pays the entire premium for us.  I know. 

But, regardless of who it is paying the 60 bucks, someone insured or someone who is having to fork out the entire amount, the price of medication is ridiculous.

So, when I go back for my visit, which is sometime around the end of September, I fully intend to ask that he change my mediation (although it has taken 4 years of tweaking to get it just right) because honestly, $60 is just not going to happen. 

Are you insured? 

If not, do you pay out of pocket?

If you are insured, are your co-pays decent and predictable?

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I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  I’m just going to wander into it.  We bought a daycare in May of 2007.  I had never been able to work a full 40 hour work week because of my health.  The depression, the anxiety, the laziness.  No, it wasn’t really laziness, it really was depression.

When we bought the daycare though, I became the person that had to do it all and do it all right.  I am a control freak, I have OCD and I get depressed and anxious when things are not going according to my plan.

And, with that, I have to tell you that very little that has happened since May of 2007 has happened in the manner in which I planned.  We sold the daycare a few weeks ago but had already closed it in July. 

My health was going down hill and fast.  I found I had a thyroid disorder and diabetes.  I wasn’t doing anything to keep my diabetes in check so that, along with the state of affairs at the daycare, had put me in a serious funk.  I thought it was ONLY a serious funk. 

As it turned out, I had caught mono somehow and before it was all said and done, I was in the hospital.  I’m still not over the mono.  I had a relapse as late as last week.  My doctor says that with my other health issues and my tendency to become depressed, I would probably see symptoms of mono into the winter. 

My doctor really seems to be watching  me close and trying to do his best to see that I don’t fall over the edge.  He is a great doctor and I just wish everyone could have a doc like him. 

And, so with that, we are headed for a vacation.  There wasn’t one person that knew us that had any doubts that we needed and deserved a vacation.  Not one person! 

We’ve been gone since 9 AM this morning.  I woke up at 3 AM and couldn’t sleep.  I just stayed up.  For me, at 3:20 PM, 12 hours later, I’m nearing the end of my schedule for the day.  Yet, we’ve got at least half of the trip left ahead of us. 

We left this morning in time to stop by the great super store and pick up a few odds and ends as well as get Wayne a haircut.  By the time we got gas, made it to our favorite restaurant, ate lunch and got back on the road, it was almost 2 PM.

With that said, I haven’t relaxed yet.  We are going to be on vacation at the beach until next Friday and I’m hoping that by the time we lay our sleepy heads down tonight I start to get that feeling that you are suppose to get with vacations.  I don’t know if I even know what that feeling is but I sure hope I get it…and soon!

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I’m sure you all remember at least one year of your young years that you were apprehensive about starting school.  Some kids are like that every year and some like that every Monday and some every day.  Luckily for me, I usually got nervous around the 6th and 7th grades but other than that, my self-confidence was pretty good and I enjoyed it.

My son started kindergarten 3 weeks ago and I knew he was a social butterfly.  I call him a politician.  He can talk to anyone about anything.  He come by that honestly.  Sadly I have to take the blame for that trait.  Right now he is sitting alone in the back of the room because he won’t quit talking all day long.

On his first day of school, he was a bit bumfuzzled as to why I was going inside with him.  We had been once and met his teacher so he felt like he knew where to go and he didn’t need me.  I told him that I was going that day and we would talk about the next day later.

Well, he took off in front of me, went to his room, sat down by his name tag and was ready for something to happen.  When most of the parents started clearing out, I looked back and my son gave me the following look.

Now does that look like a kid who is emotionally strained by the thought of starting school?  Of course not.  He still loves it and wouldn’t allow me to walk him inside the second day.  He had gone about his own way with only one day of guidance from me. 

I’ll let you know later how the second born will do.  It will be merely speculation but based on some on a stern foundation.

So, how is it for you?  Discuss?

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So, you know way more about me than a lot of people I know in real life.  But, as one would guess, you are probably wondering if I am just a clown that has had many mental and emotional issues and I’m going to try to urge you to go get medicated.  That is simply not the case.  I do believe that medication has its place and we will explore that more in depth later, but for now, I’m just going to give you a few credentials.

My personal thoughts on  my own mental and emotional health are that without the interventions of modern medication and later some therapy, I would not have been able to accomplish much.  So, with that, I’m sure you are wondering just what it is that I’ve done that makes me think I can write a blog here and help anyone.

For starters, did you read the two part introduction.  That alone should tell you that I’ve been the mental and emotional health genre for half of my life.  I was 19 when my father died and that depressive cycle began.  I will be 40 in a couple of weeks.  But, if you read those, you know, I suffered well before the age of 19, it was just then it became apparent to everyone because they could see the issues on the outside.

So, what did I do with myself?  I did what my father always dreamed of, I graduated with a Bachelors degree.  That was in 1991, in physical education.  I used that to teach physical education two and a half years.  My dad tried to tell me not to be a teacher.  I don’t think he knew that I was simply not going to be good at it, (which I wasn’t), he just wanted me to choose a career that wasn’t so difficult to endure (and it is very difficult). 

Either way, I graduated.  I also had a minor in chemistry so I was able to teach Earth and Life Science on year and again, it was awful and I wasn’t very good at it.   Later I taught Pre-K and…again, it was a horrible experience and I wasn’t very good at it in the first place. 

I let my certificate expire and thus was unable to teach after 2001.  In 2005, I decided I should try teaching again, I was older, my temperament was different and maybe…just maybe…

That’s when I realized my certificate had expired.  So, that meant I had to return to school.  So, why  not get my Masters in something that I could use outside the school system or inside if I chose.  I taught Biology while I was in school and just as before, I hated it and I was not good at it either. 

I got my Masters in Counseling last winter while I was busy running my own daycare.  It came in handy and even though it is not my nature to brag, I was able to pick employees strong points as far as what age they would be best working with.  At first they would balk on me, but later, people came to realize that I had a little education and I was good at reading people.

Personalities come easy for me it seems.  I can talk to someone for a short time and tell you way more about them than most of them know themselves.  No, I’m not psychic, I learned a little when I pursued that last degree and it is paying off for me now.

I knew my husband had ADD (attention deficit disorder).  It was very apparent to me.  He had suffered his entire life but didn’t grow up in a home with educated parents who knew what to look for.  I got him an appointment, they did the intake, they gave him a couple of written tests and then the doctor spent about 45 minutes with him.  Diagnosis?  ADD.  I knew it, I’d lived with him too long not to know it.  I knew the symptoms and with my husband, they were terribly obvious.

In recent months I came to realize that my husband was depressed.  Again, he didn’t see what I saw.  I had the education (and I don’t mean that in a smart-alec way, I mean, I read the books, I listened to my professors and I learned so much from them) and I knew that he was depressed.  I encouraged him to tell our psychiatrist that treats his ADD.  He didn’t.  I mentioned it at one of my visits but only briefly and only in the manner in which it was affecting our marriage.  I asked my husband the next month if he would please tell the doctor how he felt.  He said yes, but he didn’t do it.  The next month he suggested I come with him.  I did but the doctor talked to him alone.  My husband managed to pull off the ol’ "it’s just the stress of this one project at work and when it is over, I’ll be fine.).

Not only was I mad at this point, I was ready to do something drastic.  His behavior was affecting our marriage and especially affected his parenting skills.  So, at my next appointment with the doc, I asked if we could come together.  He said if it was ok with my husband, then of course it was ok with him.  We went together.  They gave him a depression test. 

I don’t know much about the depression test because I didn’t see it so I don’t know which test they gave him. However, after the doctor looked at it, he said, "you definitely appear to be depressed, a score of anything above 8 on this test would mean you might benefit from medication and therapy and you (meaning my husband) scored a 24"

Ok, see, I’ve been around the block.  I’ve had the emotional problems, I’ve had the mental fatigue, I’ve dealt with the problems and I’ve been trained to recognize them. 

So, with that, I give you my credentials.  Do you trust me yet?

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I have OCD and it was apparent before the age of 8. How do I know this? Because the nurse for my psychiatrist did my intake. Half way through the intake, he stops and says, "Do you still count things?" I was totally baffled as to how he would know this. I had not been around this man since I was at least 8. My OCD manifested itself in counting way back then. So, why didn’t anyone see this 31 years ago?

I suffer from anxiety. I didn’t do this too bad until I reached college. I was the teacher’s kid. I got special treatment. People knew I was a "good kid" who made "good grades" because my father was well-known in the teaching community. Thus, I was given many a privilege just by my name alone. When I entered college, reality slapped me cold in the face. I had no clue that the world was so cruel. And, anxieties set in that to this day I haven’t over-come. Medication helps. Medication helps a lot. Medication helps A WHOLE LOT. Get me. I simply don’t back down on these issues. I’m passionate. Period.

I suffer from depression. I suspect my family situation lent itself to my depressive behavior, I didn’t have a very happy childhood. I suspect genetics lends itself everyday to my depressive behaviors. My mom is depressed and has been most of my life. My father was more of a manic person. Happy as a lark one day, a terribly unhappy sap the next. I am a clone of my father. It isn’t bi-polar, it is simply, depression. My maternal grandfather, my paternal grandmother and grandfather all suffer/suffered from depression. All of my mother’s siblings and one of my father’s siblings suffer/suffered from depression. People, it is in my genes. Just like cancer. Just like diabetes. Just like thyroid disorders. I could go on forever.

My father died when I was 19. I entered a state of depression that would have likely took down most folks. I say that because I’m telling you, my childhood was rough. Let’s just leave it at that. If someone out there wants to challenge me on this, a private email will do, I can settle it. No, I was not homeless or abandoned. It was a plethora of minor offenses that led to depression with me.

Anyway, my father died when I was 19. I’ve already mentioned that my father was important to me. I lived with my father from age 13 to 19. He and my mother divorced when I was 4. He taught me everything I know. I can’t think of anything I learned between the ages of 4 and 13 that was good. I see you rolling your eyes. Just listen.

Two years after his death and I was failing at a major university. My father’s one and only goal was to see that I got my Bachelor’s Degree in something. I chose teaching. He didn’t approve necessarily. I got my degree and I couldn’t care less about it. I still don’t except for the fact that it led to a Masters that I just got last year. So, even still, I give my father credit for that.

So, two years and I’m failing at the very of event of living. I sought help. I got it. I didn’t however get a good doctor. The one I got said, "I believe you are depressed, wrote me a prescription for Prozac and waived her magic wand." It was years later before I hunted a doctor that knew something about my problem. Family doctors simply weren’t getting it. They were writing and re-writing a script that a neurologist years before had started because she had no explanation for my body’s behavior…except depression.

This would get real long if I went into "my body’s behavior" so just trust me again on this one.

When I was 34 I met my present husband. Having tried out three others that didn’t fit me, I found a man who is 100% meant to be my husband. The depression started to fade. I continued my medication. I got pregnant and decided that it was best that I not take the anti-depressants. My doctor convinced me otherwise. I am quoting Kristen over at Motherhood Uncensored here but basically this is exactly what my OB said to me:

But the truth of the matter is, if we don’t take care of ourselves, then we won’t be around to take care of our kids.

Yes, I purposefully sought out a female OB. She got it. She understood. She put me on a different medication. Which family doctors continued to write without asking any questions after we moved a state away when I was 38 weeks pregnant.

We moved home and I found a psychiatrist who KNOWS HIS STUFF. It took a while. He didn’t automatically find the write medications and the right doses immediately. I would say it took close to 7 or 8 months. No, really it did. Now, I exist on a small dose of 2 different medications. One specifically to treat depression; one specifically for anxiety. And they work. Both are long term drugs. Neither are of the "let me go get a pill for before I go crazy" variety. I have those. I rarely need them. I rarely need them because………..I TAKE MY MEDICATION THAT WORKS ON THE IMBALANCE. Simple.

People who don’t know…simply don’t know. I don’t mean to sound like I’m preaching, I’m simply trying to help you understand. Notice I didn’t say I was trying to MAKE you understand, I can’t make you. I simply want you to try.

I will hang on tight to the following statement and I’ll tell you again that it is a direct quote from Kristen AND an OB in Gainesville Florida…..

But the truth of the matter is, if we don’t take care of ourselves, then we won’t be around to take care of our kids.

How does that old saying go…….walk a mile in my shoes

I am Jerri Ann and as I mentioned in my last post, I’m going to cross-post from my personal blog the information that you might want to know about me as your author.  So, I present to you, the cross post.

Passion - Part One

I’m not passionate about a lot of things. I mean, I’m pretty much a "whatever" kind of gal. Nothing really phases me and I don’t get my mind dead set in one way or another about anything….anything except………….

DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, ANTI-DEPRESSANTS, ANTI-ANXIETY DRUGS

Ok, this is where I draw the line. I don’t have a sense of you could be right about this unless you agree with me. Here are my guidelines. I’ll try to keep it brief. I may need to include my reasoning, but I will do my best to be brief.

1. CHEMICAL IMBALANCES ARE REAL. Period. End.of.Sentence. If you don’t believe in chemical imbalances then you don’t believe in diabetes or thyroid disorders and many others. Those are just 2 that afflict me. I would no more stop taking my medication for depression/anxiety than I would for my diabetes and thyroid problem. Period. End.of.Sentence.

2. MEDICATION CAN RESTORE THAT IMBALANCE. It has been researched, argued and proven time and time again that most cases of depression and anxiety (which are chemical imbalances, remember number one above) can be restored through the use of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. Don’t.Argue.With.Research.

3. THERAPY CAN BE BENEFICIAL. I am not against therapy. The therapy needs to occur with the proper medication and chemical imbalances can NOT be treated with therapy alone.

4. PREGNANCY AND CHILDBIRTH ALTERS HORMONE LEVELS. If you don’t believe this, ask any woman who has ever carried a child. Period.End.of.Sentence. This is being talked about in great detail on the internet these days and if you don’t believe me, just go here, here, here, here, here, here,here, and HERE!

5. LIFE ALTERING EVENTS SUCH AS BIRTH, DEATH, MARRIAGE, DIVORCE, ETC CAN CAUSE A CHEMICAL IMBALANCE. I refuse to back down on this one even though it is probably very much fifth on my list priority-wise.

I was a depressed child. No one knew anything about depression and anxiety way back then. Hey, I’m just 39???

I got wordy. I will save the rest for another post. Just remember and come back for more… please? Although I am passionate about this matter and I will not waiver, I prefer you give me an opportunity to explain myself before you write me off as CRAZY! Yea, I said CRAZY.

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Thanks to Fear and Anxiety (learn to live without them), I came across an enormous list of stranger phobias.

• Ablutophobia- Fear of washing. This one has to be challenging. Fear of bathing or water is not that uncommon especially with children.

• Cryophobia is the fear of cold or ice. This would be a difficult phobia because even in warm weather would probably stay away from ice cream, popsicles, ice cubes etc.

Lachanophobia- Fear of vegetables. Having a legitimate fear of vegetables cannot be easy because the darned things are everywhere.

• Thaasophobia- Fear of sitting. I cannot even imagine this one but it would definitely interfere with participating in many things such as meetings, classrooms etc.

Pluviophobia- Fear of rain or of being rained on. Can’t be fun. Have you noticed how many people start running very quickly when it rains though?

• At Life in the Fast Lane, there’s an excellent listing of the 60 Weirdest Phobias People You Know May Have.

Treating Phobias

Everyone has been afraid of something at some point or another. A phobia is different in that usually people know the fear isn’t rational and yet they still can’t control it.

Phobias are frequently treated with behavior therapy or exposure. Over time the hope is that the fears will become reduced and eventually subside.

Flooding is a quicker method where a person is exposed for a lengthier time. Apparently, you can only be full of anxiety for so long so after 40 minutes or so your fear usually subsides.

I’m curious if this is the method Dr.Phil’s guests with phobias are exposed to because many of them seem cured in a hurry. Not everyone can deal with this and if it’s used needs to be supervised by a professional.

More Information on Phobias and Help

At the Phobia List, check out the huge list of phobias that took years to collect. There is also resources for help with your phobias if you need it. (Phobia Links)

You wouldn’t think clutter sucks your energy and brings you down but it does. Rodika Tchi, the Feng Shui guide on About.com shares her take on How to Clear Your Clutter With Feng Shui. She makes some good points about how cleaning up clutter and organizing your space takes time and effort.

That does explain why many put it off including me. Your outer surroundings do often reflect how you’re feeling inside. If it’s cluttered around you, you’re probably cluttered inside with emotions as well.

Our main entrance is a nightmare but that’s because we don’t have a closet there. It’s in a very odd place way down the hall. If you saw the entrance right now, you would assume twenty people lived here because of all the pairs of shoes.

• I’m a bit of a pack rat but would like to become more organized. Instead of waiting for more energy I’m going to declutter and see if that doesn’t increase my energy. My sister is brilliant with that stuff and is actually going to become a professional organizer. I would love to have her over but need to tidy up first. I am still extremely uncomfortable in a home that does not look somewhat lived in. Throw a magazine on the coffee table or something!

I know someone who has a trunk full of stuff because there is not enough room in his house but the weight is really starting to strain on his car. He might need it some day though. See, I know I have a bit of a problem because I’m trying to find someone worse off.

Clutter and Hoarding

Over at the Psychology of Clutter Dr. Ragan wrote an interesting article about the difference between clutter and hoarding. (When is it Clutter and When is it Hoarding) Hoarders become extremely anxious about throwing anything out even if they know it’s useless. According to Dr.Ragan, it’s considered a form of an anxiety disorder. Clutterers are just disorganized although of course can be mentally ill as well.

Ablutophobia- Fear of washing or bathing. (PEE-YOU!)
Aichmophobia- Fear of needles or pointed objects. (I have this! I’ve been talking about it all week long!)
Alektorophobia- Fear of chickens. (I could understand this. There is no technical term for “bovine phobia,” other than bovine phobia.)
Ambulophobia- Fear of walking. (How do you get around if you live with ambulophobia?
Anuptaphobia- Fear of staying single. (This one made me sad)
Arachibutyrophobia- Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth. (And this one made me giggle!)
Automatonophobia- Fear of ventriloquist’s dummies, animatronic creatures, wax statues - anything that falsly represents a sentient being. (Yay! I have another to add to my list!)
Bolshephobia- Fear of Bolsheviks. (Lots of giggles for this one.)
Basophobia or Basiphobia- Inability to stand. Fear of walking or falling. (Imagine having this one AND ambulophobia!)
Chaetophobia- Fear of hair. (I have this … but only of single strands of wet hair! I didn’t know there was an actual name for it!)
Cypridophobia, Cypriphobia, Cyprianophobia, or Cyprinophobia - Fear of prostitutes or venereal disease. (*snort*)
Dextrophobia- Fear of objects at the right side of the body. (Very specific, there.)
Ephebiphobia- Fear of teenagers. (I think everyone deals with this at one point in their life!)
Geniophobia- Fear of chins. (Hope they don’t watch late night TV!)
Hellenologophobia- Fear of Greek terms or complex scientific terminology. (I had this in 8th grade for a term.)
Homichlophobia- Fear of fog. (Don’t move to Oregon!)
Ichthyophobia- Fear of fish. (And why I won’t snorkel or scuba dive.)
Kathisophobia- Fear of sitting down. (ambulophobia, basophobia and this would make for a miserable life!)
Lachanophobia- Fear of vegetables. (Then I am an lachanophile!)
Lockiophobia- Fear of childbirth. (In my opinion, if you’re not the least bit lockiophobic then I worry about you.)
Medorthophobia- Fear of an erect penis. (Well …)
Mycophobia- Fear or aversion to mushrooms. (They *are* gross.)
Novercaphobia- Fear of your step-mother. (Cinderella, perhaps?)
Oenophobia- Fear of wines. (A rough fear, in my opinion.)
Opiophobia- Fear medical doctors experience of prescribing needed pain medications for patients. (Talk about specific!)
Pygmachophobia- Fear of boxes or of being sealed in a box. (Nermel - Garfield’s cousin - probably had this after being shipped to Abu Dabai so many times)
Syphilophobia- Fear of syphilis. (Everyone, in my opinion, needs this!)
Ynotophobia- Fear of life not having been worth living. (Life is always worth living!)

Earlier today I posted some basics on Pica disorder that you should check out. Now I’m going to look at why researchers believe that people develop pica disorder.

When looking at why people develop pica disorder, there are quite a few different things that researchers keep in mind.

There may be:
> nutritional deficiencies - you may be lacking zinc or iron. This lack may trigger