|THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016).|
it's been raining in texas. one fun thing about that
is that the snails come out. mostly the young garden
snails that are, as far as i can tell, trying to get
to higher ground from the saturated earth. it's kind
of zen to sit on the back patio and watch snails
slowly glide up the walls.
panic attack. anxiety. my entire body was shaking. i
could hardly walk. girlfriend's brother-in-law had to
drive me the 2 blocks. they ran every test they could
think of. catscan, brain mri, x-rays, sucked all
kinds of blood out of me. got there around 5:30pm,
they saw my condition and didn't even give a second
thought to admitting me immediately. finally got a
room at about 4am. shared it with an incontinent
geezer who shit himself twice within an hour of my
arrival, and another old dude who seemed to express
himself entirely through flatulence. they gave me
massive doses of librium, which brought my blood
pressure down from the stratosphere to normal.
now i'm told librium is supposed to be majorly
addictive but i've had no desire to take another
pill. they wanted to keep me there a 3rd night but i
whined my way out of that. i was actually happy to be
there. this had been building up for 2 or 3 weeks, or
maybe even longer, going back to the day i almost
fell into traffic on that drawbridge connecting
queens and brooklyn. now i'm not shaky at all. it's
the only time in my life i've stayed overnight at a
hospital. looking forward to that never happening
again. blood pressure yesterday was a perfect 130/80
dave. now there's a blast from the past.
y'all need to pick it up. :)
easement of our property drops down into shoal
creek. which means we pay retarded amounts of
money for flood insurance.
fucking hell i hate talking about weather!
but anyway, the creek turned into a river, gushing
all the way downtown to where i used to live when
i first moved to austin. and on the front page of
the paper a few days ago was a photo of a man
stranded across the street from that apartment
building being rescued by uniformed men in
inflatable rescue rafts. sirens all day long, all
night long, all day the next day.
we have a very large piece of land considering
where we live well inside city limits, and the
creek was about four feet from coming up into our
yard - a safe distance. but the rain pooled in
our yard, making it a large pond, and the water
rose so high that it was only about 4" away from
coming up and over our foundation into our newly
it's rained so much and been so cloudy for so long
that the tomatoes and cucumber plants in my garden
have grown so high, presumably reaching up for
it rained last night. it's just rain rain rain.
for the first time ever - back in early april - i
bought a first class rain jacket, rain boots, and
a serious looking umbrella.
the 1/3 full lake travis reportedly is now 2/3+
full, but the upper lakes still not so much.
in non-weather related news, we are taking a 2
week vacation to northern california in july and
august. we're staying in a beach house in small
town on the santa cruz bay called aptos.
we'll also be taking a short side trip to
yosemite. and when i was on priceline trying to
find lodging, well first of all, it was nearly
impossible because i'm late to that game. but
interestingly, one of the places that came up in
my search was an incredibly shitty looking "bed
and breakfast" in Coulterville.
i don't know if you remember, but i've been to
Coulterville before, back in 199?, where Sheila
drove down to meet me and my friend - we were
travelling. we all ate something, and then we
followed sheila way up the mountain, on crazy
windy roads with drop offs on either side, all the
way to her house, where i met Lucy, and other
characters, and her husband Paul.
we are not staying at that bed and breakfast, but
i would if i could get a hold of sheila.
senor's niece is going to stay at the beach house
with the monkeys while he and i take another side
trip to napa, sweet jesus i really need a break
lastly, mark. jesus h. what was going on the 2-3
before you landed in the hospital?
sorry, one more thing.
mark, upon recommendation from her psychiatrist, i
am giving my eldest 1 gram of inositol twice per
day to treat her anxiety and ocd. it's a totally
tasteless, textureless powder that completely
dissolves in liquid. i put it in her apple juice.
get it on amazon. or pay cash for it $20 at whole
foods or vitamin cottage or whatever they have out
the psych says it's been effective in treating
both disorders in double blind studies yada yada.
but whatever, it works. i put her on it, symptoms
diminished. took her off it, symptoms worsened.
put her back on, symptoms diminished.
waiting room when i saw this. i asked the doc if he
had an opinion on inositol but he'd never heard of
it. that doesn't necessarily mean anything. i'm
willing to give it a go, though it wasn't on the
shelves at Walgreens or Rite-Aid, so I'll look at a
fuller vitamin shop. i have a stock of Lorezapam,
which is said to be the exact same thing as Librium.
i have not had to take one yet, though a few episodes
this week caused feelings of panic and chest pain.
the whole sorry emergency room episode and what led
up to it is too much to type, and there are people
out there i would not want reading it, even though
they do not know about this place. i had blood test
results from 10 days ago read back to me today and
everything is normal, even the liver, which was
surprising considering my alcohol intake these days.
it really was all in my head, the panic attack. next
pharmaceuticals and professional therapy can't
i don't mean to be flippant. if you all truly knew
me you'd be shocked i'm still alive at all. yet i
even outlasted my doctor; lost him to kidney
my secret: the park. any park that's handy. just
wandering around whatever patch of nature is handy
to me, whenever i can get to it. and wine: a 750ml
bottle a day. though i could stand to cut back a
no guarantees, but i'd still take it over isotoner
i don't go about announcing to the world that my
daughter has psychiatric diagnoses, but most
everything i write here isn't relevant in the
outside world. it's safe here because in the
internet universe nobody's got a telescope trying
to find it.
and if anyone should find any of the classified
information i've shared here, by that time the
idea of privacy will be moot. and i'll be too old
it's hard to believe that there's something more
personal than so much of what's been written in
dreamland, or other places that used to be front
anyway, it's easy for a psychiatrist to give you
meds and send you on your way, with interval
check-ins to see if dosages need tweaking. my
daughter's psychiatrist handed us a packet with
specific things checked off:
meditation (specifically Indigo Dreams by Lori
cognitive behavior therapy
sometimes we pay doctors to point out what we
already know, what's obvious, but we forget in the
day to day.
and so putting the matter of psychiatric health
into our own hands, instead of the hands of a
pharmaceutical company, is a great start to
discovering if you can manage yourself - but holy
hell it's a lot of work.
and i love and pharmaceuticals and respect their
power to save lives! but like droop said, it could
be right in front of you, as simple as frequent
walks in the park. or getting more sleep. eating
more nourishing meals at regular intervals.
for years now my girls have a color chart in their
room with colors representing emotional states.
green = happy
yellow = starting to get agitated, sad, worried
orange = super frustrated, angry, scared
red = tantrum
purple = emotions out of control, seizure-like
and the key is to learn to recognize when you're
in yellow, approaching orange, and being able
steer back to green. both girls have their own
way of doing it, and i used to have to help them a
lot. once they're in the red or purple, they
aren't reachable, we have to let the thing ride
the thing about having kids is that they teach you
everything you need to know about yourself. and
it's a lot simpler than we make it out to be.
If the rain comes they run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes, if the rain comes
When the sun shines they slip into the shade
When the sun shines down
And drink their lemonade
When the sun shines down
When the sun shines, when the sun shines
Rain, I don't mind
Shine, the weather's fine
I can show you that when it starts to rain
When the rain comes down
Everything's the same
When the rain comes down
I can show you, I can show you
Rain, I don't mind
Shine, the weather's fine
Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines
When it rains and shines
It's just a state of mind
When it rains and shines
Can you hear me, can you hear me?
been iconic in my mind, for reasons I cannot
necessarily articulate. I've met a surprising number
of perfectly respectable people who have woken up at
Bellevue, unaware how they got there until someone
explained that they were found unconscious on the
exit ramp of the FDR, that they had been pulled from
a burning building, or some other circumstance beyond
But the psychiatric services division in particular
stands apart from the medical facility. I read of it
in high school, when (if i remember correctly) the
director of the place called it a "wastebasket" of
society. They have to screen and evaluate all the
people that other social agencies turn away, and on
account of that they are forced to be highly
selective about who they admit. That fact was not
anywhere in my mind when I made this appointment or
when I showed up. Why would it be? I knew I was in.
Still, thinking about it now, I don't know if I
should be satisfied or alarmed that they admitted me
without any inkling of second thought. The screener
said up front that "most of these interviews take
about 10 minutes." we talked for a half hour, which
i'm told is considered epic for this sort of thing. i
kept coming back to the shrink i saw 18 years ago,
and how i felt bad about ending the sessions with
her, but that at the time i felt i had to. she kept
ripping my mother a new one, calling her a bad parent
and even a bad person. i was offended, and did not
appreciate the comments, but i've come to realize in
the years since that i was afraid that listening to
this therapist repeat these things over and over
would inevitably poison what love i had for my
mother. more threateningly i feared that the opposite
would occur should i inevitably let slip what was
going on between that therapist and me. now that my
mother is gone i think it does not matter any more
what we say about her.
we talked about dad's suicide, which comes back to
haunt me at unexpected times. we talked about the
drinking, the suicide attempt, the emergency room
i came to this session better armed than other times
i sought therapy to guide this process the direction
i want it to go. i am in control of this as much as
they are. i did not feel that way in the past.
I left feeling more positive than I have in a long
time. A miscommunication with the girlfriend quickly
soured that feeling, as it so often does. Today I'm
back to remembering how Bellevue felt like home the
moment I walked through its doors. It's an amazing
complex, like a cross between a shopping center and a
monstrous castle. I promptly got lost, requiring the
assistance of a nurse to help me figure out where the
hell they put the lobby of the building. I was so
fucking nervous, not on account of that selectivity
thing but because this was real, and this was really
happening, and that if another chapter of my life is
really opening then i should temper my enthusiasm
with the discipline to do the hard work that lies
i tried Inositol. it seemed to have no effect, and i
also read that it can worsen symptoms for bipolar and
depressed individuals, of which i am a classic
example. I might try it again but I think I am going
to see about getting Librium. i popped an Ativan last
week and it decidedly disagreed with me, even if i
think it actually worked in the end. at the ER they
fed me monstrous dosages of Librium but prescribed
Ativan because Librium is not covered by my
insurance. i got the impression that Librium is
wildly expensive without insurance but a 60 day
supply is like $12. i guess that's considered
expensive when a 30 day supply of Ativan, with
insurance, was about $1. of course the insurance runs
me $400+/month, so do that math...
initially i resented having to fire all my doctors
and the dentist and specialists by switching to an
ACA plan but now i'm starting to forget about the
change. i liked my PCP a lot as a human being but now
that i think of it a majority of his prescriptions
and diagnoses were way off base. the dentist i also
liked a lot but my teeth are as close to perfect as
you'll ever see. i do not exaggerate when i say that
my jaw is thing of wonder to every dentist i've ever
seen. so unless i get into a bar brawl or something i
can probably get away with another 10-year gap
between dentist visits, as happened between roughly
and all that.
But never had the chance to talk to the specialist.
I was abused when I was young, I mean, I was sexually abused by a boy who was two years old than me in bed naked.
Over burden mother and absent minded father is what I blamed for my problem and never told them.
When a guy who did that to me in bed made me feel like I am a girl. I don't know how to comes out to make a express my feeling and guilt.
of people care for you and wish you well.
This may seem a touch trite, but you might consider eliminating
(most or all) carbohydrates from your diet and eating more fat.
I've been doing that for the last two years and it's had fantastic
cognitive effects. Your body starts producing beta
hydroxybutyrate (ketones) and your brain switches over to using
mostly that for energy instead of glucose. That ends up being
pretty good for bipolar:
Of course I wouldn't suggest ditching any meds to do this, but
you might think of doing it on top of any therapy you might get.
If you were in Baltimore you could come to my support group.
Though at the moment I'm pretty low.
See post elsewhere.