DEFINE NORMAL?

About a month ago out of sheer desperation
I went to a psychiatrist here in town.
He asked all the right questions.
I told him my life story.
He listened.
I cried.
He prescribed some meds and sent me on my merry way.
Unfortunately, I had severe side effects.
So he gave me some different meds to try.
They worked ok.
But just ok.
When I was awake I could function.
That was some improvement.
But I was still depressed and sleeping all the time.
So, he told me to stop my meds altogether.
Great idea!
Let's go back to the beginning and start over!
Why didn't I think of that?
So I found a new psychiatrist.
I went all the way to Ogden.
In the snowy, slushy, rainy mess.
It was a scary drive.
But not as scary as the clinic.
I was sitting in the waiting room and
a young man sitting across from me proceeded to tell me
all about every bone he's ever broken and how he did it.
IN DETAIL.
Like I was his best friend or something.
Now, anyone who knows me, knows how squeamish I am.
I was trying to be polite.
Mostly because it's my nature.
Also because I was afraid what ignoring him might invoke.
Whilst trying not to puke at the visuals he was producing
with each bone-breaking gory story,
Pat walked in.
You know.
From the 1994 "It's Pat" SNL skit?
But with piercings protruding from any and all visible orifices.
And probably the one's not visible.
An uneasy feeling washed over me.
I was alone in the waiting room with these two.
The little voice in my head asked me
"What are you doing here?"
You can imagine my relief when my doctor called my name.
Except when I looked up for a second
I wasn't sure if he was my doctor or another patient.
He looked like Lex Luthor from Smallville.
So we went into his office and sat.
He asked all the right questions.
I told him my life story.
He listened.
I didn't cry.
I told him I just wanted to function and feel normal again.
He asked me to define normal.
I thought about the adrenalin junky and Emo Pat in the waiting room.
I laughed.
He was nice.
He empathized.
He seemed truly concerned.
He looked at me like he was wondering what I was doing there.
We discussed some medication options.
I agreed to anything that would help.
Help me get out of bed and do something.
Something other than cry or sleep or just barely exist.
He unlocked the door to his office.
Yes, we had been locked in.
Not sure if I should be worried or feel protected at this point.
He unlocked another door and disappeared into a room.
A few seconds later he appeared with some samples of the
medication we agreed upon.
He told me to call him if it wasn't right for me.
And we would try something else.
He said that patients either love it or hate it.
4 days later and I'm feeling great.
Hell, I'll go as far to say that I'm feeling giddy.
My kids can't believe this is their mom.
I'm fun.
I'm smiling.
I'm laughing.
I'm playing.
I'm me.
Finally.
The me I haven't seen in so long I don't recognize myself.
I hope I stay me.
I didn't like that other person so much.
She was crazy.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVE!

I can't believe you are SO OLD!
That means I'M OLD TOO!
GAHHH!!!
You will forever be the young man I fell
head over heals for 21 years ago.
Happy birthday thug.
I LOVE YOU!!!

A GOOD DAY!

So other than sleeping 12 hours last night, today has been a good day.
Not sure if it's because of my new medicine.
Or because it's Friday.
Or because I had the day to myself.
Or because my hubby is coming home from his 4 day trip.
I went shopping and bought 3 springy outfits and a pair of sandals.
all for under $30.
Went tanning~which I think I'm becoming addicted to.
Colored my hair.
and I actually like it.
Took Milo for a long walk.
Which made us both happy.
And I'm going to dinner with my husband after picking him up
from the airport.
It's been a good day.
and I am thankful for it!

AND THE BATTLE GOES ON...

I'm seeing this pattern now.
For every good day there is at least two bad days.
I guess that is improvement since before
it was mostly bad days.
I'm taking some steps to get myself better.
With no help from my shrink.
He's fairly useless other than writing an Rx.
I need some counseling and can't seem to get
anyone to see me for at least a week out.
I guess I'm not alone in this battle.
That should be comforting I guess.
I'm taking "mindful walks".
I'm getting to the tanning booth on the non-sunny days.
I'm making small lists and accomplishing most of them.
On the good days.
The bad days I mostly sleep.
At least when I sleep I'm not depressed.

A NURSERY RHYME

Fancy Nancy always adapted,
Fancie Nancy finally snap-ted.
All the fine doctors and all the good meds,
Couldn't make Nancie's head right again.