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.

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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?

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?

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?

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.

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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?

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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?