Cymbalta Saga

Well, if you have followed the comments about antidepressants that I have made...I have an update.

Two weeks ago, Doc upped my dosage from 30mg to 60mg because the depression symptoms were not under control (weepy, exhausted, uninterested in everything.) Nothing seemed to improve and then, all of the sudden, everything seemed worse. So I was wondering if the meds were a problem. In the meantime, my new prescription was ready and I was under such a dark cloud that I couldn't get myself out of the house to pick it up. The night of the second day without it, I had a massive breakdown and tried to let my hubby know what was going on with me. (He gingerly asked if he could pray with me...) On top of it all, I spent four hours up during the night coughing the congestion out of my lungs (it's the most wonderful time of the year...) and strained something in my back. When I got up in the morning so that he could head to work, I was in tears by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs. I was frustrated, exhausted, congested AND my back was in spasms. Sweet Prince stayed home from work. I rested and called the doctor. Much to my surprise, he INCREASED my dosage on the Cymbalta. So, I go home and choke down 3 capsules of the stuff and it sends my stomach into what I call "morning sickness mode." Oh my goodness. I have not hugged the toilet since I was expecting #3 (and I don't miss that!) A couple of hours later it subsided. Next morning...I take the dose on an empty stomach just to try something new. Oh happy day. It was flu-like...the ENTIRE DAY.


So I'm just tickled pink with my life. Today I tried 30 mg in the morning and I'll take the other 60mg at bedtime. Wish me luck.

Halloween 2007

Not my favorite holiday...
...but a huge favorite of the rest of the family!

I'll let the pictures tell the thousand words .




Mark helped with Katie's party at school. He couldn't resist going all out. He even returned to work with his black eye, band-aid and missing tooth.
Katie was a gorgeous snow princess,
Owen went as Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Abby was a ballerina (who insisted on wearing her Ariel crown!)

My challenge was completed a couple of weeks ago and it seems the new challenge is to just write something on the blog! Let me confess something, though. I've been struggling again. It's hard to know what is normal procrastination or laziness and what is a sympton of actual mental illness.


Last week I read most of a book called A Brilliant Madness Patty Duke and a medical author whose name I don't remember. It's mostly about bipolar disorder or manic depression, but there is a lot in there about unipolar depression for the sake of contrast. Well, I tell you, every five minutes or so, I was convinced that I was in the early stages of developing manic depression. The fact of the matter is that bipolar disorder typically has an onset in ones teens or twenties...not mid thirties. Do you do that? think whatever you read is your diagnosis? It's like last summer when I was looking for a reason for my back/neck/shoulder/hip pain. Heck, based on my summer reading and internet surfing, I had escalated all the way up to fibromyalgia and then, suddenly, all the symptoms diminished greatly at the same time. In hindsight, my muscles were so knotted up from tension and stress that my spine couldn't stay aligned despite weekly chiropractic adjustments and therapy. And that hurts everywhere.


Still, I'm feeling kind of sedated (which is my clinical way of saying "different than tired.") I'm also fighting desires to do nothing. My motivation dips really low and I seem sucked over to the computer to read otherwise harmless bulletin boards or to my crafting table to create something no one needs. I'm just passing time and avoiding more productive pursuits. This sounds benign, I'll bet you're thinking. And I know it can be. But when this happens day after day, something is up with me. So, I sit outside myself a little and watch...wondering if this prescription is going to be the miracle and I'll snap out of it or if I'll keep sinking in this swampy landscape until...


Until what? Until when?
If you know, would you please tell ME?

(By the way, I was at the doctor this week...he increased my dosage of my Rx. Of course, he was very calm about it, so I'm trying to be, too.)

That's it! All 52!

Well, I finished. Honestly, the Deck of Discovery adventure went by quickly. Granted, after the first couple of weeks, my artwork took on a different pace. (I usually completed five or six at a time, several days after the prompt was given.) I'd do the whole thing again in a minute. It was great food for thought. I need a lot more of that in my life (and then enough quiet to achieve "thought.")


So...not sure what the rest of this blog will contain...hopefully some scrapbooking artwork and maybe the fruit of future meditation (if I can learn how to do that!)

{Bliss} and {Closer}

"Bliss"

What's that?

"Closer"

My jeans tell me that I am closer. Closer to my goal. My goal used to be a weight...a number. Now it is that certain pair of jeans that I really like and just want to be able to wear comfortably. I don't even know their number, to tell you the truth.

One of the frustrating things about aging that I am experiencing right now is this weight business. I've never been svelte. "Curvy" is the nice word my husband uses. In the last six months, I have fairly suddenly put on 10 pounds with no great change in my eating or non-excercising habits. My girlfriend and I were commiserating about weight and she described how she had recently learned that one of the best ways to get at your inner layer of belly fat might simply be to quit eating after 7 pm and let your own body go after it's fat reserves. So we made a pact to try it together. No one is expecting quick results...this is a three-month effort to drop ten pounds or so.

Inspire, love, past, recognition, thankful

"Inspire"

God breathes it out and I breathe it in. All I have to do to be creative in the way God designed me is to simply inhale.

The physical therapist I saw a few months ago was teaching me some stretches and emphasizing breathing properly. She said that Americans can't breathe because we're all so concerned about sucking in our gut. To get your lungs full, you have to pull your diaphragm way down and inflate your belly. And then let it out. It sounds so very easy. But to let God all the way in, to get as full of him as I possibly can, I have to not care what I look like on the outside. Sucking in my physical gut is a hindrance to my spiritual health.







"Love"

Portions of this card were originally going to be on the card I gave my brother and his new wife (my new sister!) They got married on October 6th. What a wonderful couple! She makes him better. He makes her happy.





"Past"

There is a page of a Mary Englebreit calendar that I keep in my medicine cabinet to bee seen at the start of each day. It has a girl swinging her suitcase behind her. As she goes, it's contents are dropping all over the road. A signpost stands behind her at the crossroads. The forward-pointing arrow says, "YOUR LIFE." The backward-pointing arrow says, "NO LONGER AN OPTION."

"Recognition"

What mother gets a lot of recognition for what she does? I don't mean the obligatory Mother's Day kind of recognition. I mean the kind that actually affirms something you do well. Maybe even something marketable if you were in the market. Recently someone told me, "You are a really good writer." Hey, that made me feel great! I love to write. It helped me do well in college. I have journals full of poems I used to write back when I felt tortured. I thought for a while I might write children's books.


Most days, now, though, I'd just be grateful for...
"Thanks, Mom. You sure do get the peanut butter on all the way up to the crust and, gosh, it's great to have clean underwear to wear today. "






"Thankful"

This word prompt was posted for October 7th, I think...it was Canadian Thanksgiving. For a lot of people that would have been interesting trivia, but for me it was nostalgic. I grew up on the Canadian border in Minnesota. Many of my great aunts and uncles and my great grandmother still lived in Canada while I was growing up. We had the privilege for many years to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving at my Aunt Julie's home in Fort Frances, Ontario. She was only in her fifties when she died and I miss her. I remember a lot of laughter and a lot of really good cooking! Our family has preserved one particular tradition from Julie...peanut butter clusters. They are these yummy treats that we make at Christmastime...chocolate and butterscotch chips melted together with peanut butter and cocktail peanuts. Not only are they addictively scrumptious, they remind us to be thankful for our heritage. (Our Canadian heritage!)

blah, count, full, eye

"Count"

Go ahead, count 'em...
one little embellishment or dot for each year of my life so far.
(Jeesh...I'm not gonna tell you...you actually have to count them if you are that nosey!)







"Blah"
That was the whole of last week...weatherwise, especially.
And gray, dismal, rainy..."blah" days
are very challenging when you have a depressive tendency.
Where do you buy those "happy lights" I hear people talk about?





"Eye"

I got nothin' here.
But isn't the card cool-looking?













"Full"

The days in my plain old ordinary life are WAY TOO FULL. About a week ago, I looked at my chicken-scrawled calendar and thought, "I need to do something about this." So, I drew this puffy cloud around one day a week for the next six weeks and then crossed it out. As an afterthought I also added a big smiley face because all those x's looked a little ominous. That's it. I'm benched. No commitments. No "yes's." Just days to be me, to slow down, to breathe and...hopefully...to smile.


By the way, I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Eat Pray Love. It is very Eastern in its spiritual bent, but I have to say that it is giving me a bug to be quiet and sit still once in a while. Last night before bed, I sat and read my Bible. (Whoa!) And then I prayed. Now, here's the kicker...it was the kind of prayer where you don't ask for anything. Part of the time I just breathed, "Jesus", over and over again. There is power in the Name... Then I sang/repeated/meditated on Micah 6:8 in the form of the song I sang as a child. He has shown thee, O Man, what is good and what the Lord requires of thee. But to do justly. And to love mercy. And to walk humbly with thy God. I'm still waiting to be miraculously transformed by these mere minutes of devotion... (Well, at least it is a start.)