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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGRX4_eSp7ImA9WxBbE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421</id><updated>2010-03-11T16:00:24.041-05:00</updated><title>Psych Patient, MD</title><subtitle type="html">Where patient and physician collide: A MD with clinical depression and ADHD offers a unique perspective on mental health issues.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/psychpatientmd" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="psychpatientmd" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">psychpatientmd</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQMRH07fyp7ImA9WxBbEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-3746753350458155899</id><published>2010-03-09T11:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:19:45.307-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-09T14:19:45.307-05:00</app:edited><title>Sorry doesn't have to be the hardest word</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him: What did you apologize for? You didn't do anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;me: Because I hurt her feelings, and for that, I am truly sorry.&lt;/blockquote&gt;If you can't apologize for what happened, can you find it in your heart to acknowledge the pain, frustration, fear, anxiety that was created with a simple apology?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-3746753350458155899?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=39G_nDLDiL8:HcfeltjfhKU:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/39G_nDLDiL8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/3746753350458155899/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=3746753350458155899" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3746753350458155899?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3746753350458155899?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2010/03/sorry-doesnt-have-to-be-hardest-word.html" title="Sorry doesn't have to be the hardest word" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QHQnk7fSp7ImA9WxBVGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-8440762178486676193</id><published>2010-02-22T17:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T20:42:13.705-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-22T20:42:13.705-05:00</app:edited><title>Ketchup ... hold the mayo</title><content type="html">Another year gone by, now it has been eight since you left this world. I miss you, Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is more stable now. I haven't moved out of state in almost a year. That's one major life stressor resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost a very dear friend in December. She died unexpectedly. I blew her off the last time she wanted to chat because I didn't feel like gossiping. I wish I hadn't done that. She always gave me my space. She'd slap me upside the head, too, when I needed it. She was a rock for me the last time my world imploded. I never told her how much that meant to me. She was a huge part of the support network that got me through the past two years. You would like her, Mommy. She would answer my cooking questions for me. She only made fun of me the time that I made meatloaf with mayonnaise because I didn't have any eggs. I miss my friend, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing okay without medications. I still wonder what's the point of doing anything, and I get anxious over little things, but I keep busy and make a little progress  each day. My diet is much better now, and I'm taking multivitamins again. You made me take Geritol when I was in high school. That's probably why I'm in fairly good health today. It probably helped me get through my depressive episode in high school, too. All those B vitamins are supposed to be good for stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a good place now, Mommy. Hope I don't blow it all to bits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-8440762178486676193?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=WtXn1GUELEM:an82XoQIt5E:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/WtXn1GUELEM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/8440762178486676193/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=8440762178486676193" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8440762178486676193?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8440762178486676193?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2010/02/ketchup-hold-mayo.html" title="Ketchup ... hold the mayo" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMHSH09fyp7ImA9WxNWEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-6292745043533205931</id><published>2009-10-09T17:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T17:07:19.367-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T17:07:19.367-04:00</app:edited><title>Why my hair is so long</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What I tell myself:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't afford to pay for a haircut right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What I tell others:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long hair makes me look younger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What I fear:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the stylist ask me,"Would you like a color with your cut today?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-6292745043533205931?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=5z7ERc9MNSU:rHFpuzLvbqQ:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/5z7ERc9MNSU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/6292745043533205931/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=6292745043533205931" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6292745043533205931?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6292745043533205931?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2009/10/why-my-hair-is-so-long.html" title="Why my hair is so long" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EMQn8zcSp7ImA9WxJQGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-2015327285859420133</id><published>2009-05-31T17:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T20:21:23.189-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-31T20:21:23.189-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clinical Depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="withdrawal" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Effexor" /><title>An Unmedicated State</title><content type="html">I am medication free now. I made it through Effexor withdrawal. No more splitting headaches. No more sudden nausea. No more making myself seasick by turning my head too fast. I even survived a 49-hour cross country road trip without getting carsick. And I'm back to my constipated self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I cry at the drop of a hat. Some mornings, I wake up petrified. I don't want to open my eyes or crawl out from under the covers. For awhile I was afraid to go to sleep because I so dreaded that feeling of terror that I knew would overwhelm me as soon as I woke up. I don't want to see old friends because I can't explain all the dumb decisions I've made over the past 10 years. Everybody has gotten married, had kids, have great jobs. To hit them with what I've been up to would be cruel and unusual punishment. And meeting new people? Forget that. I am not worth getting to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I remember why I was started on medications 15 years ago. Depression has invaded my persona again.  I need new coping skills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-2015327285859420133?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=NKvfSoNZAjQ:_nxap-yUQ9Q:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/NKvfSoNZAjQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/2015327285859420133/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=2015327285859420133" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2015327285859420133?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2015327285859420133?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2009/05/unmedicated-state.html" title="An Unmedicated State" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QCSH44cSp7ImA9WxBbEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-8196665547425790</id><published>2009-03-21T22:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:02:49.039-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-09T14:02:49.039-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Awards" /><title>Lemonade Award</title><content type="html">&lt;a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i110.photobucket.com/albums/n114/veronicafulton27/blog/LemonadeAward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 137px;" src="http://i110.photobucket.com/albums/n114/veronicafulton27/blog/LemonadeAward.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to &lt;a href="http://chickenista.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-award.html"&gt;The Chickenista&lt;/a&gt; for The Lemonade Award. I am flattered and flabbergasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As per the rules, I am passing on the award to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://marymoores.blogspot.com/"&gt;Holy Mackerel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://emcogneato.blogspot.com/"&gt;emcogNEATO!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://throughtheeyesofautism.wordpress.com/"&gt;Healing... Through the Eyes of Autism&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://chicklitgurrl.blogspot.com/"&gt;ChickLitGurrl :: high on LATTES and WRITING&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://katinny.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kat in New York&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dailyblonde.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Daily Blonde&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dogsgiftsandcare.com/doggietalk/"&gt;Doggie Talk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://psychopomposity.net/blog/"&gt;psychopomposity.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://rgebbiephoto.blogspot.com/"&gt;RGebbiePhoto - A creative journey in art&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.storiedmind.com/"&gt;Storied Mind&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a look for yourself. There's something in the list for everyone. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-8196665547425790?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=lEO7GrqUpl0:PDsnkMTSVJg:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/lEO7GrqUpl0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/8196665547425790/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=8196665547425790" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8196665547425790?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8196665547425790?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2009/03/lemonade-award.html" title="Lemonade Award" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkADRXkyeCp7ImA9WxVVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-7588130453177906182</id><published>2009-03-04T21:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T21:39:34.790-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-04T21:39:34.790-05:00</app:edited><title>Too young to dye</title><content type="html">I've complained before about how the only hair that seems to shed from my head are the dark ones, not the stray gray ones that have begun showing up. The gray ones I have to pluck myself. That bit of vanity I still have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today it finally happened. Ran my fingers through my hair this morning and out came a long white hair in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear that I am NOT going to grow old gracefully. But I'm only 43 years old. I'm too young to dye now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-7588130453177906182?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=-doHEsz39Qo:bwLRuf0iSnI:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/-doHEsz39Qo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/7588130453177906182/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=7588130453177906182" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7588130453177906182?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7588130453177906182?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2009/03/too-young-to-dye.html" title="Too young to dye" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4NR38yfSp7ImA9WxVWE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-4687868768659800039</id><published>2009-02-22T12:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T17:49:56.195-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-22T17:49:56.195-05:00</app:edited><title>My source</title><content type="html">Recently I received an email from an old friend who told me that he admired my strength. I want to tell you where my strength comes from. People who know me personally will be surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father has held a strong influence in my life, but my strength comes from my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother was born in China. In her late teens, she emigrated to the United States to be with her father. Her mother did not want to leave China, and never did. My mother never saw her mother again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents met in Stockton, California. I don't think the courtship was very long. They married in Reno, Nevada in 1951. That somehow set a precedent I guess because there has never been a real church wedding in my family. Everybody married in Reno. Well, everybody in the family who ever got married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before my dad became a naturalized citizen of the United States, he was reported to INS as an illegal alien and had to go to Canada for a brief period, leaving my mom with two little girls to care for. She handled all the legal proceedings in the States, with English being her second language. My mother was never very comfortable speaking English. She always spoke in Chinese to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got flak from her friends about sending me to medical school. Education is wasted on a daughter. And why can't Eva find a husband? She mentioned this to me only once, and it was in passing. She never gave me grief for chasing my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Mommy, for being behind me, even though I couldn't see it. I will be home soon, and I will visit your grave. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-4687868768659800039?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=i5l9DA5PTk0:Wp1s-6gpEhU:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/i5l9DA5PTk0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/4687868768659800039/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=4687868768659800039" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/4687868768659800039?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/4687868768659800039?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2009/02/my-source.html" title="My source" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QDSHw5fSp7ImA9WxRVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-8559253135170421258</id><published>2008-11-15T23:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T23:56:19.225-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-15T23:56:19.225-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Independence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self-development" /><title>This old dog is learning</title><content type="html">I help take care of a beautiful dog named Raleigh. He is the cutest thing, and I love him to bits! He's a little quirky, but aren't we all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I let Raleigh out to do his thing. We went through the sliding glass doors out onto the deck leading to the back yard. As usual, I have to practically chase him off the deck to go do his business. He goes trotting off into the yard, then stops about 10 feet from me and turns around to see if I'm still standing there (he hates being left alone anywhere). For a split second, I want to run out there and go with him. But I stop myself. "You have to let go, Eva," I tell myself. "He won't learn to be independent if you keep coddling him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I tell him, "Go on, Raleigh. I'll be right here waiting for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dog is teaching me how to parent. Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-8559253135170421258?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=Gz6JX78TMyg:ZIwDx4Dq-tI:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/Gz6JX78TMyg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/8559253135170421258/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=8559253135170421258" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8559253135170421258?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8559253135170421258?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/11/this-old-dog-is-learning.html" title="This old dog is learning" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MBQn4-eCp7ImA9WxBbEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-133955149541913750</id><published>2008-11-04T16:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:04:13.050-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-09T14:04:13.050-05:00</app:edited><title>6 random things about me</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;I've been tagged for a meme by &lt;a href="http://weirdcake.blogspot.com/2008/10/6-random-things-about-me-aagh-ive-been.html"&gt;ariadneK, Ph.D.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules of the “6 Random Things About Me Meme”:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;1. Link to the person who tagged you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;2. Post the rules on your blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;3. Write six random things about yourself. (See below)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. (See further below…)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything that I write about myself here that is NOT random? Hmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6 Random Things About Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got orthodontic braces when I was 18. Really attractive to the college guys, let me tell ya.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coffee calms me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have freckles on my left arm that, if connected, form a perfectly straight line between my wrist and elbow.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Barbie never lived in my toy box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meatloaf is my specialty.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crochet is my crafting hobby of choice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Now, I tag &lt;a href="http://bootscootintraffic.com/blog/"&gt;Sunny Suggs&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.dogsgiftsandcare.com/doggietalk/"&gt;Isabella Vreeken&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://throughtheeyesofautism.wordpress.com/"&gt;Adonya Wong&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.perilouslyprecocious.com/"&gt;Ash&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://emcogneato.blogspot.com/"&gt;emcogNEATO!&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://sisterstalk.tblog.com/"&gt;SistersTalk&lt;/a&gt;. Have fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-133955149541913750?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=E8IURVAKnpg:vKmuKv3XB6w:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/E8IURVAKnpg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/133955149541913750/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=133955149541913750" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/133955149541913750?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/133955149541913750?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/11/6-random-things-about-me.html" title="6 random things about me" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MAR3w5cCp7ImA9WxRXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-1775069745740015814</id><published>2008-10-22T14:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T14:50:46.228-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-22T14:50:46.228-04:00</app:edited><title>Let live</title><content type="html">I read negative comments about this blog last week. First time that has happened for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should have cut me to the quick. It should have ripped my heart to shreds. But I didn't feel any such pain. My initial instinct was to ask why. Then I thought better of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began blogging to share my experiences. I didn't want others who may be in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;similar&lt;/span&gt; situations to feel alone. Being in a public forum, people who read this blog are going to form opinions. They have a right to do so. I don't need to know why. Everyone has their own experiences to draw from. Not everyone, thank goodness, will go through life as I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always said, "Live and let live." Now I know that I actually mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-1775069745740015814?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=2SSNVZxL_i4:uwUicD-XrO8:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/2SSNVZxL_i4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/1775069745740015814/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=1775069745740015814" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/1775069745740015814?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/1775069745740015814?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/10/let-live.html" title="Let live" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8BRHYyeSp7ImA9WxRQEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-6277700707329025980</id><published>2008-10-05T21:27:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T22:07:35.891-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-05T22:07:35.891-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mental Health Resources" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="National Depression Screening Day" /><title>Friday, October 10 is National Depression Screening Day</title><content type="html">This year, Friday October 10 will be National Depression Screening Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen years ago this month, the medical school that I was attending at the time was one of the screening sites for National Depression Screening Day. I went for kicks. I mean, I already knew that I was depressed for most of my life, so they weren't going to tell me anything that I didn't already know. They gave me a multiple-choice test; I sat down and took the test. Took maybe 15, 20 minutes tops to complete it. The test results were discussed with me right afterward, and it was strongly suggested that I seek professional advice. Okay, THAT part, I didn't know. Not long afterward, I saw a psychiatrist and was formally diagnosed with major depressive disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://register.mentalhealthscreening.org/Locator1.aspx?MPEID=2"&gt;Screening sites are located across the country&lt;/a&gt;. The cost is FREE. You may also choose to &lt;a href="http://www.mentalhealthscreening.org/"&gt;take the screening online&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are at all curious, please take an hour out of your busy schedule and get screened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-6277700707329025980?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=xWmeORMWPS8:B3jjRbTgb6I:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/xWmeORMWPS8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/6277700707329025980/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=6277700707329025980" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6277700707329025980?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6277700707329025980?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/10/friday-october-10-is-national.html" title="Friday, October 10 is National Depression Screening Day" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYAQn07fCp7ImA9WxRSGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-8904499436548620212</id><published>2008-09-20T23:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T23:19:03.304-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-20T23:19:03.304-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prescription Medications" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="withdrawal" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Effexor" /><title>erpps, I did it again</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I've been feeling crappy all week. Tired, never quite alert, runny nose. Attention span of a gnat. Perpetual constipation is my normal state, but lately I've been going sometimes twice a day (which is considered normal, by the way, just isn't my normal). I thought I was coming down with a cold. Figured I better quit eating stuff that's been sitting in the refrigerator for more than two weeks. Fall is coming - maybe allergies are kicking in. Maybe my eyes are getting tired faster. I haven't been sleeping well lately. Should probably get myself to an optometrist for an eye exam. Last time I went I was very close to needing bifocals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found some old disposable contact lenses of mine. The prescription is about three years out of date, but I figured for computer work they would be okay. I wore a pair on Thursday for the heck of it. I did fine with them until I went out for dinner. Once I left the house, I made myself seasick every time I turned my head or shifted my eye focus too fast. I even started to get carsick sitting in the back seat. I was fine once we settled in the restaurant and I got some food in me. Started to get queasy during the 5-minute ride home. Immediately took out my contacts when I got home and spent the rest of the evening semi-blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YESTERDAY scared the crap out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I get up and put on the glasses that I usually wear for computer work. I'm tired, slightly foggy in the head, nothing unusual. I go to work on my medical transcription training. I start a timed typing test. I couldn't make my fingers type the right letters. I've been touch-typing since I was a teen-ager. I knew I was making mistakes right and left. Oh, and that drives me NUTS! Finally gave up timed typing and went to a lesson. Just had to copy words and do matching exercises to learn jargon and slang. Couldn't do it. Fingers would not cooperate. I develop a headache and start feeling nauseated. I must need new glasses for close work. I make a mental note to start saving for bifocals. I give up working on the computer. Even checking email was an arduous task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day wears on and the symptoms get worse. My head still hurts. I think it's a caffeine headache, but coffee doesn't help. My body feels weary. I figure I must get more sleep. I feel woozy, but not quite dizzy. I change my glasses, then give up wearing any corrective lenses. I still feel awful. I don't want to throw up, but wish I could so the queasiness would go away. Eating doesn't help. Tea doesn't help. Water doesn't help. I'm standing in the kitchen bent over the center island with my hands on my head trying to squeeze out the pain when I suddenly ask myself - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when did you take your last Effexor dose?&lt;/span&gt; Dang it! I did it again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I claw my way up the stairs to my Effexor bottle and take 75 mg. Six hours later, after a nap and some dinner, I'm feeling fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-8904499436548620212?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=A1ET69PLlV4:-wrjxpwo1qU:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/A1ET69PLlV4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/8904499436548620212/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=8904499436548620212" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8904499436548620212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8904499436548620212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/09/erpps-i-did-it-again.html" title="erpps, I did it again" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkINRH87eSp7ImA9WxRTGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-2802306797127659728</id><published>2008-09-08T23:27:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T02:09:55.101-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-09T02:09:55.101-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="HealthBlogger Network" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mental Health Resources" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Geoffrey Rutledge" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wellsphere" /><title>Announcing the NEW Wellsphere.com</title><content type="html">You may have noticed a recent addition to the side bar identifying me as a "Health Blogger" for &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I am happy to announce the debut of &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;the new revamped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is the most comprehensive health information website that I have found on the Internet to date. Both body and mind are well represented and served. Most health information sites pay lip service at best to mental health issues, but not &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Not just one, but several sections are devoted to mental health resources. Both professionals and patients alike get to have their say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The search function is absolutely awesome; it was designed by &lt;a href="http://medblog.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;st1:givenname st="on"&gt;Geoffrey&lt;/st1:givenname&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;st1:sn st="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://medblog.wellsphere.com/"&gt;Rutledge&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;/st1:sn&gt; a medical doctor with a PhD in computer science. You won't have any problems finding what you want or need on &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Register for a free account and personalize your experience on the website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the social side, &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; has many of the Web2.0 features that you know and love. And you can find local resources recommended by locals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am proud to be a member of the &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/forBloggers.s"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;HealthBlogger&lt;/span&gt; Network&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://www.wellsphere.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wellsphere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Take a look at the site yourself when you get a chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-2802306797127659728?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=T60PkD-k3Dc:v6Z-MgJn2zk:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/T60PkD-k3Dc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/2802306797127659728/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=2802306797127659728" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2802306797127659728?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2802306797127659728?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/09/announcing-new-wellspherecom.html" title="Announcing the NEW Wellsphere.com" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4FRHk9fip7ImA9WxdaEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-2766095082214375645</id><published>2008-08-19T21:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T22:55:15.766-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-19T22:55:15.766-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prescription Medications" /><title>My heart flips ...</title><content type="html">Had a good half hour or so of heart palpitations today. That's when you feel your heart "flutter" or, as in my case, do flip-flops, inside your chest. It was kinda scary. All I was doing was sitting at the computer working. I wasn't stressed about anything. Checked my radial pulse and it seemed okay. I got myself something to eat, mainly to distract myself. The palpitations went away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://chaoschasm2.blogspot.com/"&gt;Iago de Otto&lt;/a&gt; asked how my withdrawal from treatment is going. It's going. My last therapy appointment was in April. I have stopped taking Adderall XR in the morning. Since the end of May, I have dropped my daily dosage of Effexor XR from 112.5 mg to 75 mg. I am working on dropping the dose to 37.5 mg, then hopefully get off of it completely by mid-September. I am taking it very slowly with Effexor because I have heard so many horror stories about it's withdrawal effects on the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the heart palpitations have anything to do with coming off of Effexor. It is much more likely that I've been drinking too much coffee to replace the Adderall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will do some research and write more detailed posts about drug withdrawal and therapy termination in future posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-2766095082214375645?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=fZt8SyDbEEg:b-eh9WGBqDM:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/fZt8SyDbEEg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/2766095082214375645/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=2766095082214375645" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2766095082214375645?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2766095082214375645?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/08/my-heart-flips.html" title="My heart flips ..." /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYCSH8zcSp7ImA9WxdUF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-2439181030887559806</id><published>2008-08-03T00:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T00:19:29.189-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-03T00:19:29.189-04:00</app:edited><title>I feel old</title><content type="html">I just learned that George Michael is on tour celebrating 25 years in the biz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in high school when he was singing with Andrew Ridgely in Wham!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; Take me back in time maybe I can forget&lt;br /&gt;Turn a different corner and we never would have met&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="A Different Corner Lyrics" href="http://www.lyricsmania.com/lyrics/george_michael_lyrics_138/twenty_five_lyrics_33503/a_different_corner_lyrics_362473.html"&gt;A Different Corner Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-2439181030887559806?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=z1iIIGl7z3Y:gKU1_-lfM94:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/z1iIIGl7z3Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/2439181030887559806/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=2439181030887559806" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2439181030887559806?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/2439181030887559806?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/08/i-feel-old.html" title="I feel old" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcNQnszeCp7ImA9WxdVFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-6593744326397718891</id><published>2008-07-06T16:44:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T03:54:53.580-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-19T03:54:53.580-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Therapy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prescription Medications" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Medications" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self-development" /><title>A whole new life</title><content type="html">Today will mark the beginning of a new chapter in the life of Psych Patient, MD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I withdrew from therapy, and I am going to wean myself off of all of my medications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also undergone a few of the most stressful life changes a person can endure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ought to be a roller coaster of a ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't try this at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-6593744326397718891?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=jP1triFEA-s:xd_QtaSJK9g:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/jP1triFEA-s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/6593744326397718891/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=6593744326397718891" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6593744326397718891?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6593744326397718891?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/07/whole-new-life.html" title="A whole new life" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MGQ3w5fSp7ImA9WxZaEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-1870158203428371530</id><published>2008-04-24T10:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T11:03:42.225-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-24T11:03:42.225-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Relationships" /><title>Love and Money</title><content type="html">Daddy cut off my allowance. Daddy don't love me no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked to my therapist about this last night. My therapist told me that it is okay to feel hurt over this, so I guess it's okay to write about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father has been extremely patient and generous with me since I left the world of medicine. I don't like being dependent on my father for money, yet I still dragged my feet as far as becoming financially independent. A few months ago, I asked my father for money to pay for an online course in medical transcription. I told him I would have a job within 6 months and be able to pay my own living expenses. He said okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have kept him up to date with my progress in the course. He knows that I have not yet finished the course. I called him two weeks ago. After a minute and a half of one-word answers to my questions, he hung up. He has since been in New York City on business, but I have not heard from him. I expect that I never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I knew the day would come when my father would stop financial support. At 42, I am way too old for an allowance. I guess I thought that he would at least be man enough to come right out and say so rather than simply hang up on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father shows his love with money. When he talks about how much he loves his family, it's always about the financial support he has provided. My father worked hard all of his life to provide for the family. He has very specific hopes and dreams for his family. None of us have met his expectations. It wasn't for a lack of trying. Lord knows that each of us have done our best to please that man. We just don't measure up to the standard he set. No matter what we do, we never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier I mentioned that I have been dragging my feet on finding a job. I think I figured out why. I shattered my father's dreams by not finishing my medical training and going into practice. But I knew in my heart that if my dad helped me financially, he still loved me. To me, financial support IS love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I can't pay the rent, can't pay for medications. Heck, I didn't even pay my therapist last night. But what bothers me most? Daddy doesn't love me anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-1870158203428371530?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=9IcotIyA30Q:oNLJWHsoECY:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/9IcotIyA30Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/1870158203428371530/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=1870158203428371530" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/1870158203428371530?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/1870158203428371530?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/04/love-and-money.html" title="Love and Money" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UMQH0yfCp7ImA9WxZVGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-3565813045400477745</id><published>2008-03-31T11:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T12:01:21.394-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-31T12:01:21.394-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Virtual Doctor Visits" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Health Insurance" /><title>Virtual Doctor Visits</title><content type="html">I'm listening to talk radio this morning. I find out that one health insurance company is testing a system where you go online, give your symptoms, and get a response from a medical doctor. You are charged your normal co-pay for this virtual visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These virtual visits are meant to enhance medical care. No more taking off work to go sit in a doctor's office for a couple of hours to see the doctor for 15 minutes. No more pulling the kids out of school for a day to see the doctor. No more phone tag with the doctor's office with questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These virtual medical visits will also make employers, who foot the majority of health insurance cost, happy because it will cut down on lost work time. Schools won't lose money because of absent students. And the health insurance company collects the co-pay that normally goes to the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing was mentioned about mental health visits. That is probably because, for the purpose of health insurance, mental health is not considered a medical problem and is therefore a separate category unto itself. But that is a rant for another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, callers to the radio program brought up the following potential problems with these virtual  doctor visits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;privacy issues&lt;/em&gt; - Your medical record is confidential information. Where is the information from these virtual visits going to end up? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;incidental findings&lt;/em&gt; - How often have you gone to see the doctor for one thing and, during the visit, had the doctor notice something else that should be cause for concern?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-3565813045400477745?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=Fw_F3k3qpnM:FgIXrEJ8Rws:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/Fw_F3k3qpnM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/3565813045400477745/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=3565813045400477745" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3565813045400477745?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3565813045400477745?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/03/virtual-doctor-visits.html" title="Virtual Doctor Visits" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04CSXw9fip7ImA9WxZWEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-9006306598610782189</id><published>2008-03-10T13:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T13:26:08.266-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-10T13:26:08.266-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meme" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adeline Yen Mah" /><title>Book meme</title><content type="html">&lt;p&gt;Here is &lt;a href="http://2writehands.typepad.com/2writehands/2008/03/polygamy.html"&gt;an interesting and fun meme&lt;/a&gt; that I found as I was cruising my favorite blogs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are the rules:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Look up page 123 in the nearest book to you at the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find the fifth sentence and write it down. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Then write down the three sentences that follow. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tag other bloggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wasn't specifically "tagged" by &lt;a href="http://www.2writehands.typepad.com/"&gt;Two Write Hands&lt;/a&gt; to participate. I wasn't specifically excluded either though!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The book nearest to me, that is not a textbook or a manual, is Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah (no relation to me, as far as I know). I don't remember when I got it, but I had to wipe a thick layer of dust off of the cover, and the bookmark is at page 114. Damned ADHD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I think that is admirable, sir. I wish we had religious tolerance in China. Unfortunately, we only have barbaric intolerance. I hate to inconvenience the kitchen staff but it is against my religion to eat certain foods."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scintillating, isn't it? I'll have to start reading the book again to find out what that's all about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What do you read (or halfway read)? Consider yourself tagged.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-9006306598610782189?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=YfNJ1aQI9_A:AXjZk9j9aJ4:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/YfNJ1aQI9_A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/9006306598610782189/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=9006306598610782189" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/9006306598610782189?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/9006306598610782189?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/03/book-meme.html" title="Book meme" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEHSX86cSp7ImA9WxZQGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-8221326636683324959</id><published>2008-02-24T23:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T23:27:18.119-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-24T23:27:18.119-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Communication" /><title>Letter to my mother</title><content type="html">Hi Mommy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you? Are you warm enough with the clothes we sent you? Daddy sent more money today for you and Susan. I hope you have enough, and that you are happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought a lot about you over the past seven years. I never thought that we had much in common. Then I remembered that you left your mother in China when you were young. You did not have her to talk to when you got married, or had babies, or had problems with Daddy. It's too late for me to have a baby, but I don't have you to talk to for all that other "woman" stuff that you were going to tell me about after I got married. I don't have my mommy for my adult life, just like you didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very brave of you to leave your home and your country to come to the United States, not knowing what the future held for you.  I never thought about that while you were alive. I realize now that I did not get my courage and determination from Daddy. It came from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Eva&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-8221326636683324959?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=Eq1rl852OcM:OQIQ4yyN56Q:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/Eq1rl852OcM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/8221326636683324959/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=8221326636683324959" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8221326636683324959?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/8221326636683324959?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/letter-to-my-mother.html" title="Letter to my mother" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEBQ3w6eip7ImA9WxZQEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-225230978731825223</id><published>2008-02-14T09:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T10:24:12.212-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-14T10:24:12.212-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Long Distance Relationship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Communication" /><title>What makes a couple?</title><content type="html">Aaron and I have been together for almost three years. In that time, we have been on ONE date. We went to a &lt;a href="http://www.trans-siberian.com/index-main.php"&gt;Trans-Siberian Orchestra&lt;/a&gt; concert, which was fantastic by the way. You've gotta see them if you ever get the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have we been doing all that time? We built two online membership programs and other miscellaneous web sites. We networked with other budding Internet entrepreneurs.  We dreamed about the future when we would have the time and the money to do whatever we wanted to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To work toward that future, Aaron took a job that forces us to be in a long-distance relationship. He has since come to the conclusion that we really don't know each other. I cried when he told me that. I got scared. I thought he was going to leave me. Then I got angry. I thought we were on the same page, and now he wants to close the book altogether? Where was his sense of commitment? Now, I have to agree with him. We never did the work of becoming a couple, and now we have to figure out how to do that long-distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my fault that we skipped over the getting-to-know-each-other phase. We met online in business, we partnered together for business, and I just got enamoured with building a future together. I learned things about Aaron that made me believe that he would be an ideal life partner for me. We share the same values. We have the same work ethic. And he loves me. What else do I need? During all this time, I thought I was meeting all of his needs, but I wasn't. I jumped right into the building-a-life thing, and forgot about the courtship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I count my lucky stars that Aaron is willing to see if we can become a couple in the true sense. Doing that long distance is going to be tricky. He could easily have said forget it, it's not worth the hassle, but he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Aaron.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-225230978731825223?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=fSoyM1LfEc4:I7yev_PpCgA:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/fSoyM1LfEc4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/225230978731825223/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=225230978731825223" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/225230978731825223?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/225230978731825223?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/what-makes-couple.html" title="What makes a couple?" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QGRXk7cSp7ImA9WxZRGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-3183425484077638737</id><published>2008-02-13T21:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T22:22:04.709-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-13T22:22:04.709-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Forgiveness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self-development" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Communication" /><title>Forgiveness</title><content type="html">During one of my rare father-daughter moments with my dad, he asked me why my sisters and I were upset about him adopting an adult son in China. I told him that all us girls thought that he had gotten over not having a biological son, so when he told us about the adoption, we were hurt that we were not enough for him. He looked quite puzzled. Then he explained how he needed a "son" in China to take of family that was left there. It had nothing to do with us girls. He didn't mean to hurt our feelings. But there was no apology for hurting our feelings. Basically, he didn't mean it that way, so we shouldn't take it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, I've come to decide that it was his way of asking for forgiveness. I mean, he isn't about to apologize, so I better stop expecting it to happen. It has taken me a long time to understand forgiveness as something I do for myself. When I forgive someone, I am no longer going to expect anything to make up for whatever hurt I experienced. I don't feel like anything is owed to me anymore. What's done is done, now it is over, we can move forward from this point on. That does NOT mean, however, that I &lt;em&gt;forget&lt;/em&gt; what happened. Forgive and forget? That is for doormats. Forgiving releases me from heartache. Forgetting just gives license to others to abuse me repeatedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I forgive my father when he hurts my feelings. That's how we continue to get along. But I never forget, because how else am I going to learn how I want to be treated by a man?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-3183425484077638737?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?a=kI029_K8TGo:avoO93Bhwus:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/psychpatientmd?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/kI029_K8TGo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/3183425484077638737/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=3183425484077638737" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3183425484077638737?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/3183425484077638737?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/forgiveness.html" title="Forgiveness" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MMQXk-cSp7ImA9WxZRGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-7392777543276955105</id><published>2008-02-12T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T11:58:00.759-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-12T11:58:00.759-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prescription Medications" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Medications" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="OTC Medications" /><title>Why I don't need cold medication</title><content type="html">Last night I felt like crap. I was nauseated, so at first I thought it was my lack of cooking skills. Then came the headache, and finally a tickle at the back of my throat that told me for sure that I was about to come down with something. I popped a couple of Tylenol and went to bed early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't sleep well. Woke up at 4 am all stopped up, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I popped a couple more Tylenol, then bundled up and went to my bank ATM to make a deposit. It made perfect sense to me because I would have no trouble finding parking so early in the morning, and, lo and behold, I didn't! Got back to the apartment, worked on the computer for an hour, then decided to go back to bed. Even though that was about the time that I usually take my psych meds, Effexor XR and Adderall XR, I opted not to take them then so I could sleep a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have too much to do today to spend the day in bed, so I finally took my meds. Guess what! My sinuses cleared!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am not advocating using Effexor or Adderall as a sinus decongestant. One or both, however, did help clear my sinuses. If they work the same way that over-the-counter cold medication does to clear sinuses, then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;taking OTC cold medication on top of my meds will NOT help my cold&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;whatever side effects that are associated with how the meds cleared my sinuses would be doubled if I took both my psych meds and OTC sinus decongestants&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most OTC sinus decongestants have mild stimulant properties. While stimulation can be fun, the side effects from drug-induced stimulation are not. When I was in college, I had a professor who missed a lecture which was uncharacteristic of him. The next day he explained that he was in the emergency room being evaluated for heart problems. His heart was fine. Apparently the three pots of coffee he had consumed during the previous 12 hours sent his heart into palpitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: Just because you don't need a prescription for it, don't make it safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-7392777543276955105?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/yCGcNGS54n0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/7392777543276955105/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=7392777543276955105" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7392777543276955105?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7392777543276955105?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/why-i-dont-need-cold-medication.html" title="Why I don't need cold medication" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcGQHY6eCp7ImA9WxZRF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-7812172215252446418</id><published>2008-02-11T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T20:33:41.810-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-11T20:33:41.810-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Codependence" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Personality Traits" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Long Distance Relationship" /><title>Co-pilot or codependent?</title><content type="html">A couple of weeks ago, I wrote Aaron an email message that declared my love for him, saying how much I want to be his partner, his lover, and his friend. I thought that I had expressed myself well, and I was quite pleased with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, it occurred to me that I have always believed that I am worthless unless I can do something for someone. I don't know why anyone would want me around unless I can do something useful. That pretty much defines a codependent personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That not a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you define the "forever after kind of love"? What makes for a good life partnership? The romantic ideal is to pair off with someone that you can depend on through thick and thin. How do you keep the relationship within the realm of healthy interdependence as opposed to dysfunctional codependence? I want to be with someone that I know will be there when I need him. But I don't want him to feel totally responsible for my well being. I can stand on my own two feet. At least, I like to think that I can. I mean, I'm 42 years old and never been married. That means that I am independent, right? The fact that no one has ever actually proposed marriage to me doesn't necessarily mean anything, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what did I really mean in that message to Aaron? Am I simply being insecure, or am I trying to rope him into a dysfunctional relationship? Do I want to be his equal partner in life, or do I want to make him completely dependent on me? Or worse yet, make him feel like I am totally dependent on him? Do I want to share his life, or smother it? Do I even know the difference?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-7812172215252446418?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/VMzjbsEpAYw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/7812172215252446418/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=7812172215252446418" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7812172215252446418?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/7812172215252446418?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/co-pilot-or-codependent.html" title="Co-pilot or codependent?" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04GQXwyeCp7ImA9WxZRFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19194421.post-6107989211511796432</id><published>2008-02-10T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T11:45:20.290-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-10T11:45:20.290-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="law school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="admissions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="honors student" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="transcripts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="falsifying records" /><title>Academic Bureau-CRAP</title><content type="html">Emily of &lt;a href="http://2writehands.typepad.com/"&gt;2writehands&lt;/a&gt; is going through a crisis that no post-grad school applicant should ever have to face: errors on official academic transcripts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it sounds like a simple problem. Just go and have the errors corrected. Yeah, right. You get to the registrar's office and nobody knows nothing and can't help you 'cause if it's in black and white, it must be right. So you make an appointment to see the registrar, and he/she don't know what to do either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, officially, according to the official transcript, I never received a high school diploma. Luckily, Berkeley, and every school I attended after that, never caught it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Emily isn't so lucky. &lt;a href="http://2writehands.typepad.com/2writehands/2008/02/vincennes-unive.html"&gt;Read all about How IUPUI Plans to Screw an Honors Scholar Out of Law School &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19194421-6107989211511796432?l=www.psychpatientmd.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/psychpatientmd/~4/KmggP1lsBMc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/feeds/6107989211511796432/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19194421&amp;postID=6107989211511796432" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6107989211511796432?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19194421/posts/default/6107989211511796432?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.psychpatientmd.com/2008/02/academic-bureau-crap.html" title="Academic Bureau-CRAP" /><author><name>Eva J. Mah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15731598888202857300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14334643919440416928" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry></feed>
