What? Ok this is just a place for me to work out and work on the things I have to in order to survive. I know that that isn’t living, but I’m taking it one step at a time, one day at a time.
This also gives my (many and FABulous) readers a choice on whether or not they want to go on this particular part of my journey with me.
No wanna? No clicky on the Bipolar tab next time!!
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Lil Somefin I wrote about Medication
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Today: Tuesday July 31st, 2021
You might wonder why my postings here are few and far between as of late. Well nobody likes to sit around and think about their own mental illnesses much less talk about it or put them down in words for everyone to read. Also, depending on how I’m managing, doing those things can be in turn very unhealthy. So I have to be relatively “ok” in order to post here.
Well I’m not actually “ok” but I feel this must be documented. I think I nearly died last Friday. And then again just yesterday too. That’s how it felt. I can’t tell if I was reacting to the heavy humidity we’ve been having of late, my inability to continue along my cut-down-on-ciggies trajectory, allergies, or just plain good old fashioned panic attacks, or some crazy combination of all that. But on both of those days I just could NOT BREATHE.
I ended up in the emergency room (again) and despite me crying silent tears of fright and anguish while trying to suck in air chest heaving – when they got to checking my blood gasses I was near 100% on the oxygen front. I – in between heaves for air – agreed with the nurse, (LOVE nurses who happen to be male – they are very interesting) I said I’m pretty sure I’m ok on that front, I’m still here, I haven’t DIED or passed out or anything. But it just doesn’t FEEL ok and it feels like I’m not actually getting any O2 with each wheezing breath.
So maybe it was just pure panic. I have no idea. But when I got back to the official doctoring area they were concerned about my lung sounds. I did feel like I was breathing through cotton or something. But I managed to let them know about my history of (exercise induced) asthma and that I can and do suffer from (but not very often) panic attacks.
I got hooked up to this thing that you have to breathe in all this healthy drug filled steam and they did other magical things to patch me up. So by the time I got home I was breathing like a normal human being with a scrip for an inhaler in hand.
But here’s the rub.
I’m pretty sure all of this nearly dying and panic and expense could have been prevented if our wonderful Big Pharma hadn’t decided to snatch every over the counter inhaler off the shelves recently. I found that out when I went to pick up my meds and grab a refill for my primatene mist inhaler. Which I don’t use often, but if/when I get to feeling “wheezy” and short of breath, a couple of puffs and I’m good to go.
What I didn’t realize at the time is that I was not going to be able to get a scrip when I went to my usual doc appointment on that Friday. I had been experiencing “shortness of breath” that whole week prior, and I thought with some primatene tablets I’d dug up, (very old, probably expired, not very effective turns out) I’d be fine until my appt. Nope! Turns out they are “not allowed” to prescribe anything other than behavioral health meds. You know for feexing my busted BRAIN. No can do with the busted LUNGS, dude.
So maybe that started the panic, when I was already not breathing so well. My new “brain doc” saw I was in increasing respitory distress or whatever they call it and was able to get me over to the emergency room in the next building ok.
But now I wonder. I already knew they’d been eyeing primatene mist (as a brand of inhaler) as something that was probably going to be ganked from the market. I used to be able to grab it off the shelves in years past. Then it got positioned behind the pharmacy counter – still available without a scrip just that you had to ask for it, show ID and pledge your first born child in order to buy it. Apparently it was a well known and highly used ingredient for meth or hyped up crack or whatever and they just couldn’t have it sitting on the shelf for just anyone and everyone to buy.
Now I know there were other asthma-helper type inhalers that you could use and grab right off the shelves at any super market or drug store. I know that there are a lot more inhalers that you can get with a prescription. I never thought that I’d end up with the risk of dying because a) I don’t have health insurance and therefor no primary care physician who can prescribe me an inhaler and b) Big Pharma would do some of its usual money-grubbing shenanigans and target inhalers so now they have complete control over who gets to breathe or not.
My homework: figure out how to get a doctor so I’ll be able to breathe once my current inhaler runs out. Or follow a storyline from any one of my fave medical and/or cop shows and be one of those people who “ends up in the ER all the time (on purpose) so they can get a scrip for their drug of choice”. Mine being oxygen by way of inhaled albuterol sulfate. Scary isn’t it?
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Today: Wednesday February 8th, 2012
Since I wrote last: Got serious air and ex and sun and got my brain shrunk nicely. Won’t be seeing my other headshrinker until next month as she’s out on maternity leave. Last time I met with her she looked like she was about to POP! lol. I did give her some kindly pointers woman to woman (since this was to be her first):
Even if she was to have her birth in a hospital – to remember that she wasn’t sick. She is giving birth – bringing new life into the world. To work out ahead of time with her obgyn the whole episiotomy thing. I recommended she go for the noooo cutting unless absolutely necessary route. You heal so much faster if you don’t get one of those horrid things. These days baby docs think that going snip snip is like part of the birth process. It isn’t. Only needed if it looks like there will be tearing. The vagina is a veeeery elasticy stretchy place. Especially when it comes to birthing out them big headed babies. Let Momma Nature do_Her_thing.
I also suggested that she let herself decide what position to have the baby in. The whole lying on the back with your feet in stirrups is sooo old school. Its also (very) bad for both the baby and the mommy. That whole drama was thought up when men started to take over the birthing process. So much easier to see what was going on, never mind midwives and women have been been doing for yonks: Using gravity and nature to help things along. Research walking while in labour, birthing chairs, squating and so on (git ya learn on!). I myself gave birth on my side. It felt like it was the best way to go – so I went with it.
Musta been an A-OK choice. Looky how purty he turned out!
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Had another strange dream or vision or whatever the heck it was. Prolly stemmed from the fact that I use the word “Beloved” as a nick for (both of) my cats when I speak to them in (the totally awesome) cattese patois that I’ve developed. Tho its not pronounced the way it is in English lol. I know its not from Toni Morrison’s novel – haven’t read that again in years. I did catch the movie – also a long time ago – and (like the novel) it blew me away. Thandie Newton‘s portrayal as Beloved was absolutely riveting.
Anyway I kept seeing this vision of a version of the headstone with just Beloved written on it. I decided that that’s all I’d like to have written on mine. Although not all of me will be buried at that site. I’ve thought about the various interesting ways one can umm decide what to do with ones remains. I’ve thought this out, although for someone in my state of condition (I know redundant – but its oh so much fun!) thinking about death and all its particulars isn’t highly recommended. So sue me. And write my brain a post card and tell it to think up a vision of something else.
So here is what I got so far (from this recent vision and other musings over the years):
- The whole elaborate sarcophagus thing is cool. King Tut et al shouldn’t have all the fun.
- The concept of having a similarly highly decorative (from Ghana, actually) coffin – and then displaying it in your home while you’re alive is a wildly eccentric and fun idea. Would make a kick ass ice breaker at dinner parties n’est ce pas? ;)
- Donating any organs or other parts (not the whole dang thing tho!) that science/medicine/other people might need at the time of my demise is a total must. I have a donor card in my wallet at all times.
- Cremation is very high up on the list. I mean I don’t have to be fully corporeal to go inside my elaborately decorated sarcaphogus right? Just sprinkle me on in there rofl
- My ashes will go lotsa places. For sure up in space, tho now we ain’t got the SHUTTLE anymore, I guess you gotta sign on to whatever or whoever is going up whenever. But somehow or other part of me will return to the stars.
- Ashes scattered to the Earth (my fav place whatever that will end up being), and to the Winds, and into the Ocean. Fire having already been taken care of.
- Burial (with the Beloved inscripted headstone that started this whole thing) if I decide that’s cool. I’m still not sure on that tho. That whole taking up space better used by the Living thing. You know, like golf courses. And other space wasting things. But I refuse to have any of that fake green grass dirt covering you see going on. As if the dirt that’s going to be chucked over me is Not_T0_Be_Seen lest we get affronted or reminded that we’re actually putting someone into the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, baby. Keep it REAL.
- A fabulous Nichiren Buddhist ceremony to send me on my way to the next life. A serious party-hardy in lieu of a sad and boring memorial service – nooo cryin! Eulogy (pre)written by yours truly – mais bien sur! Mozart’s requiem must be played in its entirety somewhere along the line. And salacious excerpts of my memoirs must be read aloud now and then as the party progresses.
Cuz I’m crazy like dat.
Oh and UPDATE on the hair sich: I tossed in my fake braids in the front. Shaved the middle and back and sides damn near bald. Hoping to later on loc up the portion that’s now being protected within its cocoon of kanekalon. I feel MUCH much better now. Kinda lika inside out mullet: All party in the front – spiritual diva Buddhist nun in the back! This suits my bifurcated nature quite well, tho its not for everyone but feel free to give it whirl any time you want ;)
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Today: Wednesday February 1st, 2012
Since I wrote last: Got much air and sun and ex and shrunk. This post is about a dream I just woke up from. I’ve had it several times. Variation on a theme. If I had to guess, I’d say this was my third time dreaming this sich. See I’m like some sort of ghostly life coach thinger and I appear around these families…or is it just one/the same family? I’m unsure since I seem to forget I have a dream journal to jot these things down in right after I wake up.
So I’m this ghost-thing or entity. And I’m always there to help one (or both) of the parents overcome some severe trauma or something. This last time it was the husband, and if I have to make an educated guess, I’d say he was suffering from PTSD – (heck, aren’t we all?). And the reason I say I’m a ghost thing or whatever is because I seem to have these extra-sensory powers and the ability to move through things as well. Or it could be that I’m a dream-me and can do just whatever I want. I dunno.
But the one thing I always know, is that its come down to Do Or Die with this family and they need help like yesterday. Things I remember saying:
“Think of your favorite child. I know you’re not suppposed to have a favorite, but I know that you do. Every parent does. Whenever you feel like [not sure what – checking out maybe?] – think about that child. Picture their face and make sure that you understand with every fiber of your being that you need to be there to see all their dreams come true.” (or something like that, its sort of fading right now).
The dream either begins or ends with something (seemingly) unrelated and either segues into the whole Help This Family Thing, or moves away from that after I’ve done my thing (always successfully, I might add) – and goes into the unrelated sequence.
For example this one ended with me doing some crazy all out ninja-esque battle with some superbad baddies: monsters, ghosts and whatnot. I felt like I was in some sort of Haloween horror night house of “fun” or something. Everything was crazy and tilted and I kept having to outwit this uber crazy being so as not to get killed and DIE you know? Of course I made it out ok (I hope!) cuz then I think I woke up.
Why I’m always helping families I dunno. Why its always the parents, I dunno. I use my skillz (reading minds, hyper-intelligence, flying, walking through walls etc) to make sure that they are going to be ok. I use their own (unseen because of whatever trauma) strengths to save them. I always know the right thing to say. I know when to use my skillz and when to just go with basic intuition. As I said before, I’m always successful.
I’ve had re-ocurring dreams before. This is a new one. Prolly started a few months ago. I’ve always dreamed vividly, and can usually remember all or at least part of my dreams. I use them in my waking life. I believe they are messages or doings or goings on of my subconscious mind: So I Pay Attention To Them. I don’t always know what they mean, if anything. I don’t know what this particular set of dreams means.
So Real
Sometimes my dreams feel so vivid and real that upon wakening I’m disoriented. Which is the dream and which is the reality? Chuang Tzu never had it so bad lol. Sometimes if I’m holding something in my hand in my dream and I wake up, I can still feel its imprint in my palm, and I’m surprised to see my hand is empty. In highschool when I dreamed of my everyday life, I thought since they felt so real, that I had Astrally Projected. I dabbled in that field for a little while and I think I consciously projected once or twice.
Phrophecy
Sometimes I dream the future. And since I remember my dreams, when the situation that I dreamed happens – I remember my dream and feel an acute sense of deja-vu. I never see big giant futures. I see my future self and things that relate to me. I pre-dreamed my college roommate. I knew that she had wavy long black hair and that in the situation I dreamed we were sitting in our dorm room chatting with three other people. A couple of months into my first year at college we were in that exact same situation – the people, my roommate (with her wavy long black hair!) and I were hanging out talking, and positioned in the room exactly as I had dreamed it nearly a year previous.
I pre-dreamed something so mundane and ordinary that I sometimes I just wonder even WHY my brain bothers lol. I dreamed I was kneeling on a polished wooden floor, and there was a shaft of sunlight shining down on me through a window. I was arranging some sort of small figurines inside a display case. Later on (I don’t remember how long – some number of months most likely). I was transfered to the outlet version of the store I was working in, and yup you guessed it. I was kneeling on the floor and making their display of soapstone Zuni carvings oh so much prettier on a bright and sunny day in NoCali. (Avec the shaft of sunlight pouring down on me – that was the clincher) I’ve pre-dreamed all sorts of (yawn) boring everyday things in my future life. Wierd, neh?
Some Are Different
Lastly, sometimes I believe my dreams are me stepping into another me in another dimension, parallel world/universe whatever it is. Crazy String Theory stuff I tells ya! The reason why I believe its not just a “regular” dream but something altogether different, is that I’m utterly exhausted when I wake up. I’ve had no rest. My brain has been awake during that time. No REM Sleep pour moi!
And these particular dreams are always me. Or a slightly different me. But I know its me. I’m not stepping into someone elses life – I’m experiencing my own life. Just slightly – sometimes wildly – different than the one I’m experiencing now. And don’t you know that Diva is always hiking or adventuring or engaging in something strenuous? Maybe her brain goes into some sort of mode (like when I’m at the ballet barrre – my mind goes nice and smooth) during exercise and I can slip in and do what she’s doing. (I say “she” but its me – just trying to save confusion to anyone reading this).
So I wake up tired out. Not only from hiking or whatever, but from the simple fact that I’ve not gotten a wink of real sleep on top of all that.
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A movie you should see: Another Earth (2011). Its indie and awesome and touches on some of these things. See you on the flip side. I gotta go back to sleep. And perchance to dream?
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Today: Sunday January 15th, 2012
Got Air and Ex. Found part of a series of books I’m trying to read. See this is how messed up things can be. If I cant find the book I want at my fav local used book store, they can look it up and find it at their other branches and have it sent over. So ok the series I’m trying to read/collect has 5 books in it. I got the first three in a single volume and couldn’t find the last two. So I did the call around thing. But of course I only asked them for the last book instead of both of the last books. Why? I have no idea! I THOUGHT I asked them for both. But I didn’t. So now I have to do the whole thing all over again to get the 4th book in the series.
And don’t ask me why I’m adding to my personal library when I don’t have room for the books I already have. Well the answer is: books keep me alive. Books keep me SANE. I know, I know, I could just as easily do the check out the book and return it thing at the local library – I used to go that route back in the day. But the books I choose these days are KEEPERS. I know that I’ll return to them like old friends, over and over again. Depending on where you are in life, a book can tell you something different each time you read it. And there are books that I know will always have what I need whenever I pick them up.
When my journey seems like I just won’t make it, I turn to Stephen King’s The Talisman. Or if I need something along the same lines but more long term, I line up his Gunslinger books and hop on board. I also know that his near-death accident changed him very much, and I try to read the books he wrote after that experience to feel his presence as a survivor. Sometimes that is exactly what I need.
Other times I’m just plain tired of the journey and I want to escape. These days I turn to my movies for that, but I also have books that do the trick too. Anything Sci-fi and/or fantasy.
Right now I’m on a tremendous journey to heal my mind and my body. I know that I’ve been on this dang thing for years now, but at least now I have more of a focus and my Support System is entrenched and I’m actually using it! I can say the turning point was when my parents came to visit me recently. The love and support, the feeling of having them completely on my team as it where was nearly overwhelming. I’ve known all along that they were there for me, but having it really brought home to me in the talks we had, and the time we spent together was truly the beginning of things for me. And then with Da coming for my Bday and surprising me with a visit from my Baby Brother – well that put the capper on things!
Part of me dwells constantly in the past. I can’t help it. Sometimes thats a good thing, sometimes notsomuch. “I remember when I…” fill in the blanks – can be a goal setting opportunity or, depending on my mood – a nostalgic road block to me moving forward. For the most part, I use it as a way to get up out of this place I’m in. Like the picture you see here on my blog, of me smiling in my sunglasses.
That was taken (way back when in LA) by my close close friend and boyfriend Craig Coleman. I remember those times as being infinitely happy ones. Coleman (as I call him) and I were like “peas and carrots”. I miss him a lot. We had so much in common and the stuff that cracked me up, cracked him up too (jigga what?? lol). I was physically fit, relatively middle-lined (neither too depressed or too manic), I was working (I think!) and I got to spend my play time with this superbly talented and fabulous guy.
Those were the days, and I’d like to have them back again thankyouverymuch! Or at least the present day version of that – In whatever form that may take.
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Today: Thursday January 12th, 2012
Been thinking about what to do with my hair. You might not know this, but attending to personal hygiene is tres difficile for a lot of us dealing with behavioral disorders ie. mental illnesses. I won’t go into details but lets just say sometimes it can get pretty tragic. And the hair is one of the first things that goes out the window. Literally in my case. (I’ll touch on that later)
But lets do a small history lesson since we’re on the subject. MY personal hair history that is. I’m WEH too tired to go into the whole Black Hair Thing today, seriously. My earliest memories are of course in Africa where I grew up. I have flashes of my Mom braiding my hair and also taking me to these amazing African Ladies to get my hair braided up super duper intricate awesome. I also remember wearing Afro Poofs: I always thought I was lookin like Minnie Mouse with my two cute poofs lol! I also remember pictures of me as a little girl wearing my hair natural in a nicely shaped little afro – go Mom!!
I remember breaking my mother’s heart when (5th grade? 4th?) back stateside I decided I just HAD to get my hair straightened. I was getting teased about my intricately braided and wrapped styles at school, and I was also wanting to look like my friend Kim. She had those cool double twists with the bubble bead hair ties. My memory of that is twofold. I wanted to fit in and not be singled out with my “exotic” African hairdos and I wanted to look like Kimberly.
So mom relented, ran around asking Black friends and coworkers where was the best place to get her daughter’s hair permed. (For those that dunno, I was adopted since birth by a White family – so this was an undertaking of some magnitude). I remember going to “Pinkys” and getting my hair done. I got the coveted hair twists and bubble bead hair ties. Mom (and me!) learned a whole new thing about Black hair/care.
I don’t recall much about my middle school hair, since we went back to Africa for those two years. I think I went back to braided and natural hair styles. I was also swimming competitively (a LOT!) and I seem to remember pics of me wearing cornrows – again: go Mom! You can imagine what the combination of chlorine pool water and equatorial sunshine could DO to permed hair – ACK! Braided is best for teh swimmerz methinks.
Back to the USA and into my first years of high school. I think I took my hair care into my own hands then. I went to a local barber shop that my (Black) brother went to. (shout out to Yusef and Ali on Sac Blvd!) They loved having me come in – I guess it being the 80’s and all, most women and girls were sporting the Patti LaBelle or the Tina Turner. I was going for the Grace Jones thing with the (usually male) high top fade sort of thing.
I was still also swimming (lil bit), doing tons of dance and sports, so that style was very easy to keep up. Remember this was the Jerry Curl era, the Fried Dyed and Layed to the Side madnezz. But since this was also Berkeley, there were lots of folks (brothas mostly) sporting Dem Natty Dred Locks too. Which I’ve always always wanted to sport but: Didn’t exactly know how; figured it was a spiritual/cultural thingie and didn’t want to disrespect the Rastas by doin it wrong/for the wrong reasons etc; didn’t know if I wanted to commit like that.
So the years go by, I get into college – GO Gauchos! I remember being asked (many, many times omg) by one of my freshman dorm mates – a sista who was interested in me for her sorority – when was I going to “do something” with my hair. Since then I was still in my high top fade/natural fro mode. She was a sweetheart tho, and a talented playwrite – I danced in one of her plays later on. It was wild! Funny cuz I had my hair done up like Topsy from Gone With The Wind, (to help make some sort of statement at a crucial point in the play) had my solo and got a standing O. What a RUSH! (I never did go out for any sorors, I just never had the time, I was taking like 22 creds a quarter AND working – I still have no idea how I managed all that wow). I think maybe I was tripping on (as yet undiagnosed) mania or something.
Since then I’ve home permed my hair, gone natural, worn a weave, shaved my head damn near bald, worn braid extensions – basically ran the gamut, mostly depending on my mood. I was living in Los Angeles, and playing with fake stuff was fun – hair, nails, makeups – boobs for some ppl but eek not me – flirting with fashions etc. I’d have to say my favorite was braid extensions. I used to get them salon done, now I can whip them up myself.
I think the last time permed my hair was probably 3-4 years ago. I’ve mostly done braids or gone natural with an assortement of hair bands and scarves.
Right now I’m growing my hair back from when I shaved it down 6 months ago. I just could not even keep up with the basics. When you have your hair so short you don’t even need to comb it – thats just one less thing you have to worry about. I was also paranoid about going bald in spots on my head, so I also figured if I shaved everything down evenly, I’d be able to tell if I was patchy balding or WHAT.
Turns out I’m ok. I tell you the list of things I’m paranoid about is seriously long. But at least my hair is ok. I try to keep it clean and moisturized now that I have a few inches of growth. But aside from the cute caps and scarves I throw on over my head – I have no clue about what to do now. I’m tempted to 1) shave it all off again, 2) toss in some braids so I can forget about it all for awhile, 3) Loc it up.
A little while back during the Summer while standing in line at the cash register at my local dollah store, this woman gave me her card. She does hair. And she’s one of the Sudanese people we have a lot of here in Tucson. We have a lot of Islamic refugees here from the Sudan. Most are brought over by this Jewish organization. See? Now THATS how its done. We CAN get along, help each other and see the humanity in each other despite our so called differences.
I’ve kept her card and will call on her if I decide to go the Dread Lock Way. I won’t start it out on my own, since I’m still so very clueless. I’ve been looking on the web and reading about other women going through the process, so I have a bit more info than before, but yeah – I gotta think a bit more on this. So maybe braids and/or cute caps n scarves while I do that.
Why dreads you say? Like I said, I’ve been fascinated and loved that style since forever, and was also inspired by this absolutely gorgeous UFO (Unidentified Foin Object) who turned out to be my college roommate’s (Steen! Where ARE you??) buddy from her home town. He looked a little bit (ok a LOTTA bit!) like (swoon!) Jason Momoa, who is the picture I’ll leave you with for now. I gotta go get my sunshine/walkin quota in for today. Peace Out!
Jason Momoa Teh Hotteh from Star Gate Atlantis
Honey HUSH!
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Today: Wednesday January 11th, 2012
I actually went and got my “workin out shoes” and since this particular branch of Payless was closing down – I managed to catch them on their last day. So I got two pairs of shoes – tennies and wedge sandals – for only 12 bucks and change. That’s what 80% off + downsizing will do for ya! (The sandals are for the other part of my project: Dress like a human being instead of a manic-depressive anti-social recluse). I’m looking to start with something like this:
The Empire or Babydoll style Dress
Why? Because my top is still booyah, my legs are still hanging in there, and while I’m working on my middle, I can still look keeyoot ok? This pic is just for the shape/style. (Also the A-Line style dress works well too) I’ll obviously be looking for something with straps and a more daytime fabric/look/print/color (think sundress) etc ok Moving On…
I toyed with the idea of having incentives to walk more. Right now its walking with my neighbor T. and his keeyoot chihuahua Molly and Xmas promises to Teh Ma with the gift of a pod…umm whatchacallit – walking meter thing. (Sheesh these meds make me stupid sometimes!) And the promise and “homework” given out by my therapist to walk more and get some damn sunshine. I’m as pale as I can get these days, sad to say. So on to the other incentives…
RedBox movies is two blocks away. I can only keep the flick 1 day – its only a dollah. But that means 4 blocks of walking in a 24 hour period. So thats like, HUGE. And they have movies out that aint available yet on NetFlix so…..
I also have my eye on a place to go to towards the end of my current fitness goals. I pass by it every time I go to the hosp for my (now) bi-weekly check ins with the (totally preg!) Dr K. I checked out their WEBSITE, and it looks good. (and its run by an interracial couple – awww ok? lol) I’m eyeballing the “Curvy Woman Workout“. Since that’s me right now. the Buff Ballerina Look of my days gone by: I aint. Le Sigh.
I want to get at least consistent with walking, and moving and stretching and doing simple calesthenics (and a bit of ballet barre sans the actual barre tho) before I try to commit to a more regimented workout schedule.
I have some good things going for me, so I’m not too overly daunted at starting this out for reals: I have excellent muscle memory. My arms legs and torso have been worked out awesomely since I was a lil one (ok yeah I have swim racing ribbons from the 5 and under age group hahaha), and I know (cuz I’ve been the come-back kid before) that once I get into the groove, I drop body fat and gain muscle pretty quickly.
Why this is actually so hard even though I’ve been so physically active and fit most of my life:
Symptoms Of My Illness
– Distraction
– Confusion
– Disorientation
– Procrastination
– Depression
– Panic attacks
– Mania
– Scatterbrain
– Focus (lack thereof, on the wrong things)
– Memory loss/Forgetfullness
– Disability in being able to keep track of things/schedules etc
Side Effects From My Meds
– Zombification (really! you have NO idea)
– Rapid heart beat
– Sluggishness
– Extreme drowsy (and it kicks in suddenly – its kinda scary)
– Hand tremors
– Spaced out
– NO libido (sure hope “use it or lose it” aint true-I’ll have to put my vajayjay into a dang museum with all the other dust covered relics)
– Fogginess
– Memory loss (yay! double header!)
– Nausea
And other fun things that happen on occasion: Huge Horrible Migraines. Perfectly Putrid Pre-menstrual Madnezz.
(Like I said: this section aint for everyone ROFL)
Anyhoo. Thats my fitness goals for the first part of the year (till around end of march-ish or summat, dunno).
The other part is I want to get my Write on. Or back on, as the case may be. So I’m putting what stuff I don’t already have on disc, onto disc, and rooting out and dusting off past works and projects and I work on my continuing project:
Getting The Apartment Looking Like Normal.
You might laugh at that last bit, but thats something HUGE that I’m constantly working on. Half of the problem is I still have so much of my library (and nicknacks oh yes) still in boxes piled up everywhere. I really don’t have the room to have everything out like I did when I was living large with J. in the Valley in our awesome 2BR ranch house. But I know there is a stylish way to have boxes arranged, I just know there is lol!
And I have a hard time throwing things away – I always have. Part of it is reuse, recycle blah blah blah, but I won’t lie. The other part is just plain some sort of disorder. At least I think it is. But I have places now where I can give the clothes I don’t wear (the ones not totally in trashed shape that is) to others in need, and stuff like that, so that helps with being able to let go. If I’m helping someone else, by donating – so much the better.
I’m tired and written out. This page is really mostly for me. Yeah, I know I can click the Private switch, but I won’t. At least for now. And I’ll try to end each post with a picture of somethin :)
Idjit Tea Party Ppl Say Oops!
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United Earth Planet Association 
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