tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-94154902023-10-11T07:14:15.097-05:00I Can't Hear You. My Head is in the Oven.eeyore-nahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104899002521213502005-06-06T14:23:00.000-05:002006-04-02T18:55:03.650-05:00

Ring the bells that still can ringForget your perfect offeringThere is a crack in everythingThat's how the light gets in.Wise Words from Leonard Cohen

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104899506585003612005-06-03T12:40:00.000-05:002005-06-05T14:31:03.406-05:00

March 2002The doctor from the HMO misdiagnosed me...and she threw Lithium on top of the two meds I was already on. Besides the side effects from these many meds, I began experiencing anxiety attacks that started to trigger social phobia. She increased the Lithium and gave me an anti-anxiety drug. Then I began to hallucinate that people were in my house. She gave me an anti-hallucinogen. My skin

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1116776366300909592005-05-22T10:30:00.000-05:002006-08-14T23:35:54.460-05:00

I love listening in on a conversation between funny depressed people...I wish there was just a PsychoBot 3000 that would do the therapist's job, so that we wouldn't have to determine for ourselves if we're the biggest nutbar in the room or not. "and. how. did. that. make. you. feel? Press 1 for Good, 2 for Bad, and 3 for I wish I had a penis." ...thanks for sticking with me during this "I am the

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1106066255347258692005-04-28T19:10:00.000-05:002005-04-28T19:41:54.626-05:00

I was pacing the halls on my way to the doctor's office last week when a poster on a bulletin board caught my eye.It was for a "group" that meets on the first Thursday of each month at a local hospital. It was a support group for people with Depression. Although I am sure that the brainchild who thought of this concept has the BEST of intentions, like, what on earth?Okay, if I am depressed? I

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104899294895043672005-04-16T22:01:00.000-05:002005-04-16T22:29:34.726-05:00

I go to my doctor's office. It is a small eight-by-twelve room with a couch and a desk. It's downtown on the top floor of an old building with an elevator operator who recognizes me from my monthly visits. Like my doctor, he has seen my mercurial mood through these last eight years in the expression on my face, the presence or absence of tears, my posture, and the tidiness of my clothes. He

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1113572713954238182005-04-15T08:33:00.000-05:002005-04-15T09:12:26.036-05:00

Oh man! I missed one of the most fun memes of the last year during this blogging hiatus. Rats. Well, hmmm. I'm going to plunge in anyway, late as usual, just because I'm so intrigued by the question.Ten Things I've Done That You Probably Haven't1. Worked my way through college doing PG-rated bikini grams, many in public places.2. Hung out of a train crawling up the mountains to Chamonix,

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1113571872650547112005-04-15T08:24:00.000-05:002005-04-15T08:31:12.650-05:00

so. I'm back. After an ALMOST successful attempt to slip the bonds of 3 meds I'm trying to switch from...Neurontin, Parnate and Ativan. I kicked it all except for the last .25-.50 mg of Ativan. And that is kicking me. I'm giving my body a much deserved rest from w/d hellishness (and giving my DH a break too.) Now I'm on Zoloft and missing Parnate (oh, Parnate. Please come back.)I've spent

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1110235162814441072005-03-07T17:18:00.000-06:002005-03-07T17:37:32.710-06:00

...from my favorite online discussion boards about depression.I'm still in withdrawal mode right now so my attention span is frightfully shor...hey! What's that over there? Anyway...on to the snippets..._____________________________________________________"Double-depression" is a good description for how I feel, even if it does sound like something you'd order at the Starbucks in Purgatory.I've

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1108664522168644812005-02-19T15:50:00.000-06:002005-02-19T15:59:38.383-06:00

Sister: I think I'm in menopause.Me: Menopause??!! What in the hell would make you think THAT?Sister: Well, I haven't had my period in a year. And the last time I did, it was maybe a teaspoon.Me: Oh my God. I pray for that. A teaspoon? Really? Mine is like a...um...like a...Sister (trying to be helpful): A cup? Two cups? A bucket?Me: A tsunami. It's like a tsunami. Sister: Oh God

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1108572184276634722005-02-17T12:02:00.000-06:002005-02-17T12:14:26.706-06:00

I love this site. It is brilliant. Turning the message lines from SPAM into poorly drawn cartoons.But wickedly funny cartoons.For everyone's Spamusement.This one was labeled...We have your medicine.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1108568018021235342005-02-16T09:18:00.000-06:002005-02-16T09:36:59.856-06:00

My sister and I both share chronic depression. We also share a horrible, dark sense of humor which allows us survive some pretty dark times. Cops call this "gallows humor"...the use of humor in the face of a grave or dire situation, used to cope with the situation emotionally. (Doctors, EMT's, other emergency people in the house...you know what I'm talking about.)So, after a marathon phone call

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1108327308793033782005-02-13T14:10:00.000-06:002005-02-13T14:41:48.793-06:00

Running out of meds is very, very bad. The drugstore knows me as "the woman who allows our pharmacist to vacation in Maui". It's sad when you belly up to the counter and they brighten up with a cheery, "Hey Eeyorena! The usual?"It's like "Cheers". With drugs.More sad is when you have had such a stash throughout your lifetime that you find Neurontin in the bottom of your purse like other

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1107450291019322392005-02-03T11:03:00.000-06:002005-02-03T11:05:56.110-06:00

Remember...Kansas is a state of mind. Just in a slump over here, but one that I put myself in on purpose (trying to switch meds to attempt the whole "having a family thing"). I'm down to the lowest dose on my AD and almost off of the Neurontin (which has made it easier to get to sleep at night.) I've been getting to bed between 3 and 4 am, which is when I've felt sleepy. Soon, I will be

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104899281237415572005-01-31T22:26:00.000-06:002005-04-16T22:28:36.456-05:00

Now that I am married, I am living with someone who is beginning to know me intimately and who can scrutinize the details of my day-to-day routine. We sleep in the same bedroom so I cannot hide there. I cannot hide my slide into this episode…it is all around us. My clothes, books and belongings are scattered all over the floor and furniture. The temporary paralysis is back and it is difficult

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1107125068211114392005-01-30T17:20:00.000-06:002005-01-30T17:22:51.273-06:00

I am folding upon myself, like a pocketknife or a paper crane. Except that I keep getting smaller and smaller and I don't know when it will end.

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1106857076559590582005-01-27T14:04:00.000-06:002005-01-27T14:19:36.880-06:00

My career counselor in high school always encouraged us all to "play to our strengths" when selecting a career. Folks who suffer from anything listed in the DSM-IV (the bible of diagnosing many things in the mental health field) as I do might appreciate the fact that I have done a bit of brainstorming with my groovy social worker pal, B. We have assembled a short list to help others begain their

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1106292269946655282005-01-21T01:03:00.000-06:002005-01-22T00:16:57.473-06:00

I love Moxy Fruvous. And look! I told you...sad can be very fashionable. So you aren't depressed. You're a culture fashionista! Play music by clicking HERE > Sad Girl Sad girl,taking every cue from every ad, girl. Hopelessness is easy when it's a fad, girl. And being good is only when you're a bad girl. Sad girl, maybe you've got every reason in this mad world. Sad girl, showing there is

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1106059494936181412005-01-18T08:42:00.000-06:002005-01-18T08:44:54.936-06:00

I cannot believe it. This is so great! I'm still working on switching meds (which means that I have to get rid of current ones in order to take new ones.) I am on exactly HALF of the dosages on ALL of my meds. Half the doses I was on as of November 1, 2004. And my head still hasn't fallen off. Bloody amazing, that.

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104898913248840822005-01-14T22:21:00.000-06:002005-01-22T00:18:31.466-06:00

My experience with seesawing meds has been so ridiculously complicated and so fraught with emotional landmines that even my normally non-plussed PDOC got frustrated on my behalf. It was very nice, actually. Dr. D: Why is it so hard for you?! Oh, I'm so frustrated that it is so hard for you... Me: Dr. D! Are you going to fold on me now? Don't you dare! When I say that things are going badly,

Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03388135231535476912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1105329300260515432005-01-09T21:55:00.000-06:002005-01-09T21:59:08.940-06:00

Who needs a psychiatrist? When you can put yourself through your own Behavior Therapy with... Pop-Up Book of Phobias! This is fast becoming one of my FAVORITE pop-up books EVER! You can work on fear of spiders AND fear of dentists without EVER leaving your armchair. (Perfect for the Agoraphobic!) Other pop-up titles include: Pop-Up Book of Nightmares! Pop-Up Book of Menopause (P.S.

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104899036567306862005-01-08T22:23:00.000-06:002005-01-09T01:30:36.770-06:00

Ah, childhood. My condo neighbor, Anne, struggles with bi-polar disorder. The bad news? It is much harder to treat than my dysthemia. The good news? Her manic shopping sprees provide her with the best stocked clothes closet on this side of the Mason-Dixon line...and she SHARES! Anne's bi-polar disorder showed up as early as my depression did. Around age 12 or 13. Both of our families went

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104900370493226502005-01-06T23:43:00.000-06:002005-01-09T01:37:10.646-06:00

Today, I actually got dressed and stopped by work (I've been on leave) for my mail. I put on a bra and clean underwear for them. I thought I should be praised for this, but then I would have had to actually confess to the fact that clean undergarments are a BIG achievement for me right now. I couldn't find matching socks, so I borrowed a pair of my husband's socks. He has enormous feet. I

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104898737700354742005-01-05T23:02:00.000-06:002005-01-05T23:04:41.836-06:00

...please let me go like my very dear Aunt, who passed away about this time last year. After braving cancer for 9 years, she was very specific about how she wanted the money for her funeral spent. She wanted a wake. Tradition! Irish-Catholic style. She told us, "I want a closed casket and an open bar. Then you can do what you like with me." We gave her both...with gusto. Man, I miss her.

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104859889024464472005-01-04T11:13:00.000-06:002005-01-04T11:42:47.006-06:00

I keep coming back to this book by Martha Manning about depression called Undercurrents, A Life Beneath the Surface. It is so fantastically funny. Yes, funny. And touching. And truthful. Manning is smart and irreverent and a damn fine writer. She cuts cleanly through the stigma and knows how to explain what life is like while dragging depression around with you. When I began to date my

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9415490.post-1104642432494401522005-01-03T12:18:00.000-06:002005-01-03T12:35:58.323-06:00

You know, many times I cannot summon the energy to be witty, or snarky, or assertive. So I must let my clothing do the talking for me. This means a supply of excellent t-shirts and, yes, pajamas on hand. Like these: David & Goliath rock my world. What can I say? I get introverted, but I still want to express my crabbiness.

Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0