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...

You know it is a good weekend when you end it with a 911 call

All day Friday, the baby barfed and shat his way through all of our laundry. Come Saturday, still barfing and loose stooling everywhere. By Sunday, Jon was barfing, and I came down with it Monday.

Sunday night our Carbon Monoxide detector went off and it said to dial 911. I always obey my household appliances when they tell me to do things.
I called 911 and the baby got to see all the fire trucks of san francisco tear down our street. It was cool.

Until they made fun of me because I kept calling it the CO2 alarm. They told us to change the batteries and then I heard them grumbling.

The fireman that came to our call were HOT!
Even jon was a little afluttered by them, he was like "was it me of did that first guy look like Jake Gyllenhaal?"

Isn't it Ironic

So as the poster child for manic depression. I went on a fierce spending spree of money we don't have and bought these super fly jeans. I have a problem with denim. I literally spent more on these pants than my monthly car payments. (last time I owned a car was a long time ago, but granted...)
But you know what? I can fit into normal, snazzy jeans for the first time in two years so fuck it. They are Paige Premium Denim.
So yeah - I am wearing PPD jeans. It says it right on my pants!
jon and I laughed so hard about it when he pointed it out that I think we both started to cry, like for real... and then it turned into yet another serious discussion about 'what is to be done.'

So sorry family and friends no xmas gifts for you. I have PPD jeans!

Don't Call it a Comeback

So I have been on the anti-depressants for about 2 months.
And for a while they really seemed to be helping, like a lot. I thought the "bad time" was behind us. Then over the last two weeks I have "relapsed," I don't even know what the fuck to call it.
But I feel crazier than before.
So strange. I was feeling GGGGGRREEEAAAAATTTT! Making plans, showering, having dinner ready on the table. Actually able to accomplish things and not just dwell under a shitload of doubt, sadness, and fear.
Now I am at a deeper pit than I was. I am scared.
I want this to stop.
I cannot even begin to tell you how much shit our fucking insurance has put us through.

I am taking my meds, WTF?

I have an emergency visit with my shrink today. Since he is going on Holiday. And jon stayed home from work on Tuesday and now he feels stressed about his job.

So we are out here, crazy, alone and no job security. At least the weather is nice...