weekend

It’s hard to believe that it’s already Sunday night.  The weekend has flown by, not that it feels like we’ve done much.  Apart from the usual cooking and cleaning, I did make a couple more pillowslips.  SO has a big wavy pillow, so no normal slip fits it, and I like satin pillowslips as they’re more gentle on my hair.  I’ve made these for ages, pretty much as long as we’ve been together, and I really like them.  SO doesn’t care either way, of course, typical guy.

I had bought some beautiful very pale blue charmeuse, so I whipped a couple of pillowslips up out of that.  Combined with our new doona cover, it’s completely changed the look of our bedroom.  Nice and summery.  SO, god love him, didn’t notice until I asked him what he thought. <rolls eyes>

We spent today gardening.  Now that the front garden is looking better, I attacked the back garden, in particular the little narrow alley around next to the laundry and main bathroom.  I think I’ve got rid of all the big weeds, so there’s just some more finicky weeding that needs to happen.  While I was doing this, SO was spraying our lawn for bindii, a horrible bright-green, prickly little bugger of a weed.  Hopefully that will get rid of it all, it sticks in your bare feet and hurts.  SO did say he wants some plumbago plants down the alleyway again, as there were some there previously, which I transplanted out to the front.  Apparently SO’s missing their flowers when he’s in the bathroom (white and blue, with profuse evergreen foliage).

I”ve been trying to keep an eye on my anxiety, so I have something to report when I next see Dr W on the 25th.  There seems to be a pattern, whereby every second day my anxiety is bad enough that I’m taking either 5mg or 10mg of buspirone (Buspar).  Even as I write this, I’m tossing up whether to take one or not; my anxiety is very high, probably because tomorrow is the start of the work week.  I do try to use the normal relaxing techniques I’ve used all my life, before resorting to meds.  I distract myself, I consciously relax my stomach muscles, I relax my shoulders, and I breathe deeply and meditate.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work.  Hence the meds, I guess.

 

halloween

I love Halloween.  In the southern hemisphere, it’s actually springtime, and the days are getting longer and warmer.  In our neighbourhood, kids go trick or treating, even though it’s a USA tradition, and they’re all excited.  We always make sure we have lots of treats.  SO and I actually were out weeding the front lawn this afternoon, so we got to see all the kids go past, which was great fun.  Plus, it made the time pass a bit quicker.  Weeding the lawn is up there with ironing; it’s a boring task that has to be done.  We’re about halfway there, which is good, as SO’s dad is going to spray the lawn on Monday.

I always make a special dinner for Halloween.  For us it’s Beltane, so we always have a celebration of the season.  Tonight I did roast beef striploin, which had been marinaded, for one and a half hours at 180 degrees C, with roast vegies.  It was absolutely spot on, the meat was pink and tender and delicious.  SO cleared his plate without saying a word, always a good sign.  It’s nice when everything all seems to work when you’re cooking.  Roasts of any description are a bit hit and miss with me, I did a lamb roast the other week and SO was not happy with how pink the lamb was.  It was fine, but he didn’t like it, and I hate having to convince people to eat my food. 

Anyhow, today was a good day.  As well as weeding, I returned a heap of stuff to Ikea, Target, Kmart, Spotlight – all stuff I’d bought at different points which had been the wrong colour, size, shape, you name it.  And I managed to get to Medicare to get some money back from my appt with Dr W, which I then promptly spent on some new tee shirts for me, and a new casual shirt for SO.  I also fit in an afternoon nap, always a priority on the weekend.

I picked up the buspirone tablets on Thursday night and gave them a try on Friday.  While the 5mg helped, I can see I’ll need the 10mg dose.  That’s fine, at least I know now what I’ll need.  And the good thing is it really doesn’t impact on anything else.  No side effects to speak of.  I was still alert and didn’t feel nauseous or anything.  So far, I’m liking them.  I even took one yesterday afternoon before leaving work, as I was feeling sick with stress and wanted to help wind down for the weekend.  It definitely helped.  Today, I feel absolutely fine.  Not stressed at all.  It’s pretty clear that work is the issue, but at least I am able to leave it behind on weekends.

As far as I know, no plans for tomorrow, other than more gardening.  I love getting out there, it’s so satisfying.

addition to the med list

So, saw my psychiatrist today.  I’ve worked out why he’s always so happy to see me – he knows he’ll be getting $240 per visit from me.  Crap, I could’ve bought so much stuff with that money…still, it wouldn’t sort out my mental health issues.

Dr W and I agreed that the fluoxetine seems to be working reasonably well.  However, my anxiety is getting out of control.  I know exactly why, it’s because my manager is coming back from leave.  I’ve only had limited contact with her so far, but that’s been enough to send my anxiety levels skyrocketing.  I explained the situation, and asked Dr W if upping the fluoxetine dose would help at all.   He said that it wouldn’t make a difference, but he said that buspirone would sort out the anxiety.

Apparently there are a number of good things about buspirone.  It’s non-addictive.  It works quickly – almost like panadol – and you can take it up to three times a day, depending on how your anxiety is going.  It doesn’t need to be taken every day, just as needed.  And as a bonus, Dr W said that he prescribes it as the preferred anxiolytic (anxiety-reducing) drug for professionals, as it doesn’t alter cognitive function.  So it won’t turn me into a drooling, sleepy paperweight at work, which is ideal for me.  By this point in the discussion, I was jumping out of my chair to get some.  Well maybe not exactly jumping, but I’d stopped crying, which had to be a good sign.

Anyhow, I have the script in my hot little hand, and I’ve got my local pharmacy to order it in.  Apparently it’s a reasonably rare drug, only prescribed by psychiatrists, so pharmacies don’t normally stock it.  And it is expensive – even after my private health rebate, it’s $40 a month.  Still, as I said to Dr W, what price mental health?  I’d pay three times that if it worked and helped me to function like a normal human being again.

My appointment was early and I went straight home afterwards, so I decided to be a good wife and actually cook dinner for a change.  When SO got home I was making spaghetti bolognese (yes, again).  He asked me how it went with Dr W, so I told him everything that happened.  He didn’t say anything but he came up behind me and hugged me as I stirred the pasta.  Poor darling, he’s worried about me.

day something or other/gardening

Okay, I’ve been neglectful again.  I’m sure this comes as no surprise to regular readers.

I’m going okay on the meds.  Up to 30mgs, as of last Monday, so six days now.  Haven’t noticed the increased dosage has made much of a difference, though.  Maybe I need to up it to 40mgs?  Who knows.  In any case, I’m seeing my pdoc on Wednesday, so I can check with a medical professional, rather than guesstimate it myself. 

I’m noticing that while I do still get stressed on fluoxetine, more so than escitalopram, I do have more energy.  I’m not needing a sleep after work every day, or at lunch time.  I’m not needing a nap on weekends.  Today, for example, I was up at 7am, spent all morning running around doing shopping etc, then gardened all afternoon.  I did have a nap, but only for an hour, and I got up and cooked a real dinner (spaghetti bolognese) afterwards.  This is waaaay more energetic than I ever was on the escitalopram.  So yes, my need for sleep has quietened to a dull roar.  While it may still sound like I still need too much sleep, I should point out that I’ve always, always loved my naps, and needed lots of sleep.  With the fluoxetine my need for sleep is about right for me, pre-depression.  So I’m guessing that’s a good thing.

So yes, we spent some time in the garden today.  SO’s stepmum and I planted out a front garden bed, while SO and his dad got some mulch and spread it over the rest of the front garden beds.  It’s amazing how much better the place is looking!  We’ve spent at least one day for the last four or five weekends out there, weeding, planting, fertilising, and hacking back plants.  It’s starting to show - everything looks great.  It makes me really happy to see the gardens looking respectable. 

Things are generally going well, I guess.  While my moods are smoothed out, I’m functioning at a higher level on a daily basis, which is good.  And who knows, an increase in my fluoxetine dose might be just enough to really hit the spot.

day twenty-three

Apologies for the disappearance.  I’ve been a bit all over the place with the meds, and every day is a new adventure, apparently.

I had a couple of days where my initial responses to everything that happened were completely different to my usual reactions.  I’m talking, different personality stuff.  It was strange, and I didn’t like it.  It was during that time I called and made another appointment to see my psychiatrist.  Since then, I’m more ‘me’, but I’m keeping the appointment.

The depression seems okay, anxiety is still there.  I’m not sure if this is going to work for me or not, but I guess we have to see…..also, there’s the chance to up the meds if I think it’ll help.  The doc has given me the okay to do so if I think I need to, but let’s face it, if the drugs don’t work at a low level, will they work any better at a high dose?  Who knows.

Other stuff has happened, but I’m just too tired to put it all down for now.

day fifteen/turning the corner?

What a change a few days can bring.  On Wednesday, I was feeling more crap than I had in over a year.  Today, I feel fairly normal.  I say ‘fairly’ because there was some knotted stomach stuff earlier today; but in terms of my capacity to think, and to do stuff, I’m about a thousand percent better.

Who knows.   Maybe prozac is the one.  I was saying to my work friend P yesterday that finding the right antidepressant is kind of like finding the right guy, but harder.  He agreed.  And as he added, sometimes it can appear to be the one, but over time you work out that it’s not.  Which sucks.

Still, I’m feeling heaps better.  It’s hard for me to believe that things can change in such a short period of time.

I also had a win today.  SO’s dad has recently been diagnosed as having coeliac (that is, he’s gluten intolerant).  As a result, his diet has radically changed.  It seems that most of the food available for coeliacs is pretty nasty tasting, and he’s been miserable.  His favourite recipe that I make is a date loaf, and I decided to try a gluten-free version today.  He came around this afternoon and we had a taste of it.  Well, it tastes great, and he was so appreciative, poor love.  And the changes were easy, too.  I’ll have to post the amended recipe at some stage. 

So yes, that was great, and it was so nice to see SO’s dad smile while he chowed down.  First time in a couple of months that it looked like he was enjoying eating something.

day twelve. grumpy.

Well, this sucks.

I’ve been doing okay with the med changes.  Some physical stuff, the nausea, the visual stuff, but okay.  However both last night and today, some of the emotional/mood stuff is rearing its head.  I’m getting vaguer, not remembering words for common things, and I have the horrible knotted stomach thing happening again.  And no matter what I do, I can’t relax it.  It really is a physical symptom, but I know it’s a manifestation of anxiety, which is a mood thing.  Ugh.  It sucks.

So I’m not at work today.  Great, my boss must be delighted.  I hate letting her down, she’s so fantastic to work for, and just a great person.  So yes, the self-esteem isn’t the best either.

On another note, we were sitting at the dining table this morning when I noticed a baby magpie in our backyard.  I could tell he was a baby as his black feathers are still grey.  He was wandering around, and not doing much flying (another indicator he’s only young).  Anyhow, when SO and I went outside, he ran over to us.  SO groaned – ‘God, he’s tame.  That doesn’t bode well for his long term survival!’  The dopey bugger was looking for some food, or some attention I guess.  Anyhow, I watered the front garden, and when I came back he was still waiting.  I had a chat with him while he looked at me hopefully, but I didn’t feed him.

He’s still out there, sitting on the washing line.  I think I’ll call him Dopey.

depression, medication, reproduction

It amazes me how many articles on the internet discuss the impact of antidepressant meds during pregnancy and breastfeeding.  Not that it surprises me that expectant mothers get depressed; this seems a perfectly normal reaction.  (Does that make me weird?)  I understand succumbing to depression while pregnant.  What I struggle with, is people with a history of depression, who choose to go on to have children.

Okay, I admit here that I’m not the most maternal of females.  I suspect if I had my own children, that I would very well end up eating my young, for all the maternal feelings I have.  But truly, the thought of choosing to be pregnant and risking coming off/not being able to take antidepressants, and go through depression without that option, scares me.  I struggle to cope on meds; I can’t begin to imagine what life is like off them, especially when pregnant.

And then, you have the baby.  I would definitely need meds to deal with a crying, helpless little baby who can’t let you know what it needs.  Plus the interrupted sleep.  Oh god, just the thought of the bad sleep is enough to scare me off forever.  Tiredness is the number one trigger for me. 

It’s fine if the only real impact is on yourself.  I can be suicidal and know that my darling SO can still feed himself and go to work, and do everything he needs to.  A baby, on the other hand, needs a competent parent to survive.  And when I’m badly depressed, I can’t look after myself, let alone a poor little baby that didn’t ask to be born into this world to a suicidal mother.

Please don’t misunderstand me.  I’m not criticising women with a history of depression who choose to have children.  I actually think they’re about as brave as anyone I can think of.  It’s just I couldn’t do it, myself.  I’m just not strong enough.

I suppose the reason I’m thinking about this is because all my friends are pregnant at the moment.  I look at them and marvel.  And in the back of my head is a little voice that says, even if you wanted to go there and try it, you’re a good two years away from even being stable on your new drugs.  Thinking about having kids has been pharmaceutically pushed out by a significant time frame.  This doesn’t particularly worry me, but SO may well find it difficult to cope with when it occurs to him.  Poor darling, he loves kids.

So, yes.  Something else to ponder on.

day nine

Another day where I didn’t accomplish much.  Did some more laundry (washing and ironing) and some dishes, and I made SO lunch, but that was about it.  Felt very crook this afternoon at around 4pm, so I crashed for a couple of hours.  Woke up and felt considerably better.

My little brother called me in the morning and asked if I could have a look at a property with him, to which I said yes (of course).  We went along and looked at a nice little three bedroom, two toilet stand alone unit in an inner-city suburb.  We both agreed that it looked good, and A’s decided he’ll put in an offer on it tomorrow.  Poor love, he’s a bit nervous about it, but I told him that I’d help him out and it’ll all be fine.  Hopefully, it will be.

day eight

Struggling today.  I woke up early and did a few things (some laundry, cleaned one bathroom and toilet) but then fizzled into a lump of stress and ambivalence.  I spent most of the day wandering around, confused, and not getting much done.  I slept for three hours in the afternoon, and woke up unrefreshed.

I’m holding onto the fact that in a few days’ time, I’ll be starting my full dose of prozac, and will be nearly weaned off the lexapro.  Surely once I’m up to 20mg prozac, things will start being a bit easier to face.  Meanwhile, I’m sleeping lots and very grumpy, and SO is fully aware of how things are progressing.  As a result, he did the food shopping today, and organised dinner.  He’s a darling.