Camel Lights and I: A love Story

1994
Poser high-school senior stops secretly smoking in her car and goes to college. She smokes like it making money for her. I smoked often and a lot.
This abusive affair continues on and off through the next 6 years.
2001
I was living in Brooklyn at the time and working for Nautica Inc. I got a massive respiratory infection that threw me for a serious loop. I was on all kinds of gnarly antibiotics. I was spewing up a rainbow of phlegm samples. Cigarettes and I broke off abruptly and soundly.
Fast Forward to 2007
I am one of those people that was happy when they made it illegal to smoke in bars in NYC. I am the one coughing when the smoke gets in my face. I ask people to move in cafes if they try to smoke near my baby.
Jon calls me a fascist.

I bought a pack on Wednesday, they are almost gone.

I am supposed to report to Dr. Liz any uncharacteristic behavior. She is afraid the Zoloft is making me "manic-y", (honest Mariel!) and she wants to put me on a mood stabilizer.

I hate this road I am on. I find myself often wishing I had never gone here.

The weird thing is how delicious and enticing the cigarettes are. Occasionally, in the last years I have been drinking and tasted one just for old time. They did me wrong and made me gag. I am no longer gagging and I am craving one.
Yuck!
I know how stupid it is. Why am I doing this? I know they age you. WTF?!

I Left my Sanity in San Francisco

The only adult interactions I have lately are with therapists. It is a very surreal mindset to go from instinctual toddler care to trying to probe your mind for incidents you've been trying to forget.
For some reason I went from seeing none to four in the span of two weeks. Shopping for a shrink is a serious time investment. But I 've settled on Dr. Liz. She is the most indulgent thing I have ever had.

It has been unbelievably cold here in the City by the Bay.

Good thing about Zoloft:
I am making eye contact again.
Sometimes I even initiate conversations, instead of my usual social charm of trying to pretend I am invisible.

The Concentration man, In the last year + I may have read 4 books, Maybe. But I am back as the reading machine I once was. Please allow me to ........0000000000 myself by listing the books I have read in the last two months:
The Time Travelers Wife.
The Historian.
The Life of Pi.
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the night-time.
The Kite Runner (part of the San Francisco reading club last month.)
Middlesex.
Marley and Me.
The Grass is Singing: by Doris Lessing.
Surfacing: by Margaret Atwood.
There is No You Without Me: by Melissa Fay Greene.
I didn't list the authors of the pop books. I thought this list would be more impressive, maybe I forgot some...

Anyone reading anything amazing that I may like?
I could do a book swap with you, fun mail!

anyone?

Bring on the Sticks and Stones

I had a 90 minute intake session this morning (with a woman who may just save my life).
There were words used, words like:
Manic Depressive,
Bi-Polar Disorder,
Crisis Mode,
Psychosis,
Aggressive Medication Therapy,
Disease,
Sickness,
Chemical Imbalance.

Just a little indication on how the year has been thus far...

Silver Lining?

At least while I am wearing a pad the size of a Subaru, since there is no tampon that can staunch the current without causing me horrible cramps, my jeans don't reek like the tiny pee that escapes every time I cough.
Have I mentions I am still recovering from the flu?
I cough, a lot.
Cumulatively, there is a lot of piss in my pants.

When do I know it is time to switch to pee pads? Perhaps I should grab some now, you know, just while I am coughing...