I am tired. Today i am tired of talking about me. So. Let's talk about you.
Well, let's let you ask about me. I want to know what you want to know. Ask me your questions and i will tell you no lies.
I'll simplify it a bit. No questions about my family – my parents and siblings. I had sex twice yesterday and i do own a large purple vibrator which is hidden under my dresser and hasn't seen the light of day in months, if not years.
Other than that. What do you want to know? First ten questions answered.
So, that's that.
I'm on an Adam Sandler kick having watched "Punch Drunk Love" last night and "Reign Over Me" today. Both, probably a fitting way to close out what will forever be known as the hardest week of my life.
I have spent so many hours in counseling this week that my brain is weeping out my eyes and my heart is broken into millions of sharp shards. Each one causing me to double over in pain whenever i think about it.
I met with my new psychiatrist for two exhausting hours on friday. Everything i ever thought about psychiatrists was proven wrong by this very kind man who coaxed every little rotten, horrible secret out of me.
We talked about my life. My whole life. All the little things, moments and events that seemed insignificant at the time but added up to a gigantic mountain of grief and ended with him saying;
"my god, i feel depressed just having listened to all of that, no wonder you're such a hard shell."
Best of all? He told me it wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong to become who i am. I have made mistakes. I haven't asked for help when i should have. But, goshdarnit i'm a good person.
And, i'm not bi-polar. We're just not buying that.
Instead i fit into these three intertwined circles. The first, Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder, the second, Seasonal Affective Disorder and underlying depression, and the third, personality (my life.)
I need to concentrate on five things – food, sleep, exercise, fun, and medicine and moderation (go together.) On the medicine front i am continuing on 75mg of Effexor for two weeks while i introduce Cipralex – 5mg to start then 10. I also need to eat and i need to sleep. Exercise and fun are starting next week with the beginning of softball season. I need to moderate and wean off clonazepam and exercise moderation in alcohol.
And so? And so that is where it all begins. Again.
I will see my psychiatrist every two weeks for the next few months. And? And i am never going to emergency again. Did i tell you they wheeled in – right next to me – a guy who had just slashed his arm open elbow to wrist one inch deep?
What a week.
You know that theory? The fight or flight response?
Normally i would consider myself a fighter. I've had a few run-ins in my life that required me to have some sort of backbone and i have definitely learned over the years the need to be strong willed when it comes to children.
But this week? It has left me with this overwhelming desire to flee. Fly away jess! Fly away home to a place that is comfortable and warm. Where things will always be the same. Where you don't have to confront your feelings and your fears. Your lost desires. Admit grief over things you have no control. And, most importantly, you don't have to go over the same painful story every single day to a different person every time who has that damn file in front of them that says exactly what you said yesterday and every day before that.
Except the lost in transcription part. At the doctor today he asked me what shane was up to, work wise. I explained same old, same old.
"Wow," he said "because here it says he's trucking at night."
That would be a busy shane, but the idea of him behind the wheel of a big rig did give me my first real laugh in days.
Tomorrow i get to see my new psychiatrist. My doctor assured me he's not crazy like all the other psychiatrists. He will give me a diagnosis, drugs and behaviour modification therapy. Sounds like i'm headed into the lab at some medical school. I wonder how long it will take me to ring the bell to get more drugs.
Fucking hell.
I am in hell.
Will someone please just come and kiss me on the forehead and tell me they like me just the way i am.
I am so tired. I am tired of the "i don't like it when you…"
"The problem with you is…"
"What you need to change is…"
"You're biggest problem is…"
Shane, being the optimist, keeps calling me encouragingly and telling me this is the best week of my life.
I have four beautiful children who are well liked, socially adept, loved. Teachers tell me they can see it. It's my greatest accomplishment. Yet, i get no acknowledgement.
I have suddenly become "the crazy one." I don't like it.
It is not the best week of my life. Possibly the worst.
I am trudging through. Two more doctor appointments to go.
I think i can. I think i can.
I'm tired of talking about me. That's my face, taken on my cellphone, after too many hours of "tell me about…"
Instead i will tell you about my beautiful children.
Spring break is happening. Tristan and Toby just returned from a fun-filled trip to saltspring. Parker, eliza and i went swimming before we picked them up. I sat back in the freakishly warm kiddy pool and watched them show me all their new tricks. Their pride in blowing bubbles out their noses or the fact that they can touch the bottom almost all the way from one end to another.
We went out for a lunchtogether afterward and sat three in a row in a booth. Me in the middle. We coloured, played tic-tac-toe and giggled at parker's potty jokes. We shared some salad and pasta and garlic bread and headed off to the ferry to pick-up the two big ones.
Often when tristan and toby go i am comforted by the fact that they are in loving hands and having fun. This time i really missed them. When they left sunday morning my eyes were red, raw and puffy. I knew they noticed. Tristan called several times with just a "Hi mom" on the other end of the line. Her way of checking in.
They raced off the ferry, running straight into my arms. Leaving grandma running behind with their suitcases and bags full of artwork. It was a moment of joy. Just like a movie. But so real. I have never been so in love with them. I have never needed them more.
Tonight i lingered by their beds as shane put parker to bed. Toby asked "so mom, what did you do while we were away?" I just sighed and told him i had seen a lot of doctors. I leaned in and whispered i loved him in his ear, that he was my very favourite oldest son, that i was proud of him and happy to have him home.
"Right back at you mom."