just a short update

I am ok. This weekend I was dealing with family/marital issues which sucked. But we got through it.

I took Emma on a mother/daughter overnight camp on Friday and we had SO MUCH FUN! I will do a post on that, with pictures, hopefully soon.

I have been really struggling with the health anxiety lately. Monday night I was up late, convinced I had a brain tumor and/or some heart problem that I cant remember how to spell. I was crying and scared and at times I felt like I was really losing it. My poor husband stayed up late with me until I finally calmed down and could sleep. He is being more understanding about this lately. I think he realizes now that it really is "real" in my head and has been more sympathetic.

My body image is in the crapper right now. When I am depressed I lose my appetite, and when I am anxious I tend to overeat. So guess which one is going on right now? Fortunately I don't have a scale, but all my clothes are tight. Even my skin feels tight. And it doesn't help that it is the week before my period. Oh well. I'm sure I will fall into a depression soon and it will all even out. How's that for positive thinking?

Well I will leave you with this lovely photo. If you were driving down south 5th street or Duff avenue last Wed afternoon, you might have seen Annie and I squatting at the edge of this puddle behind the bowling alley, nets in hand, staring at the muddy water, and wondered what the hell we were doing. We were waiting for the frogs to pop back up. I discovered that there were a bunch of frogs living here earlier in the day when I was walking to the bank. And if I see a frog, I just cant leave it alone. It's a sickness or something. So we got our nets and went over there. After about 45 minuted we came home covered with mud, but successful. We got 2 frogs. We just played with them and showed them to our neighbors/landlord/anyone who was outside. That night I was just going to let them go in our back yard, but the girls got upset and worried that they would get eaten by a snake or something. So I drove the frogs (in my pajamas) back home to their puddle and let them go.

Anyways, I had alot of fun catching those frogs because I like to find animals and nature where you wouldn't expect it, like the parking lot behind the bowling alley.

Well thats about it. Have a nice day and thanks for reading!

life grinds on...

I have been pretty bad at posting lately...guess I just haven't had much to say. I have been going through some worse-than-usual depression and anxiety and have just sort of been holding everything together. My motivation for recovery is pretty low right now, and it seems like everything hurts, but I keep soldiering on.

I have been feeling a bit lonely and isolated lately. I love everyone here in the blogging community, and the support I have recieved here has been wonderful. But sometimes I just want to pick up the phone and talk to someone. So the other day I went to a NAMI meeting, which is something I have been meaning to do for a long time. It was ok I guess. It just felt really good to be around people who understand me and I can be myself around. I think I will go back.

I am glad Cammy and I Hate To Weight are posting again...I missed you guys!

a cautionary tale

If you want to skip reading this one I will sum it up for you: Lisa + vodka= four point restraints. But if you want the gory, humiliating, and (let's be honest) kind of funny details of a twelve hour period of my life which occured back in the summer of 2000, read on. But be warned, this was the Old Lisa. You know, the crazy one.


I found myself one Sunday afternoon on the inpatient psych ward at St. Lukes hospital, facing a commitment hearing the following morning, which I was sure to lose. About a week prior to this I arrived to the hospital by ambulance from my sister's house, where I passed out (sort of, I was concious but could not get off the floor and my heart was doing crazy things). Several days of IV fluids had me feeling better, but now the plan was to send me to the eating disorders treatment center at UIHC (evil hell) against my will. I didn't have much hope of getting out of it because I had lost committment hearings in the past, when I was in much better shape.
Alone, depressed, powerless, future uncertain. What's a girl to do? Getting wasted seemed like a fabulous idea.

I started calling everyone I knew who might bring me alcohol. Oddly enough, I kept getting shot down. It seemed nobody wanted get wasted with me on the psych ward on a Sunday night? Just when visiting hours were about over and I had all but given up I got ahold of my friend Liz, who was happy to hear from me and delighted to smuggle in some contraband.

Liz showed up within 20 minutes and we both went straight to my room and closed the door. I was on a mission :get wasted, eff it, who cares. I drank till my head spun, then hid the rest of the vodka in my hospital issued mouthwash bottle (after pouring the mouthwash out under the bed, since my bathroom was locked). Then visiting hours were over and Liz had to go, and I weaved my way down to the dayroom.

From here on out it's kind of a blur. there are some things I remember very clearly, and some things that I did I do not remember at all, but were told to me by other patients the next day. Apparently I got up on the pool table and started giving a speech about freedom to the other patients. I remember the speech, vaguely, but I do not remember the pool table. I remember hearing my name on the loudspeaker, asking me to report to the nurses station immediately. I remember to long walk down the hall to the nurses station, the way the walls were swaying as I tried to make it there without falling down. I don't remember if I was successful or not.

The next memory, I am in my room, and one staff is searching the room and another one is sort of frisking me and shaking me at the same time and saying "what did you take? What did she give you?".
Me (slurring): "kiss my ass!"
Me again:"But first you'd have to shave it! Haha!"
Yes, in my drunken stupidity I had insulted myself. Classy. But if you need any more evidence as to why I shouldn't drink, read on.
They left and I was alone sitting on my bed, with a staff person sitting in a chair outside my room keeping an eye on me. I remember falling out of my bed and landing on my head, but it didn't hurt, just sort of felt like I was floating down. Staff helps me back into my bed. I don't remember much after that.

Here's where the other patients fill in the blanks. They weren't supposed to go down the hall where my room was because of the "crisis", but several of them kept finding excuses to walk by and get a glimpse of the drama. Apparently at some point I crawled out of my room and partway down the hall. When staff asked my where I thought I was going I replied "I'm going to f-ing Pizza Hut". Also I threw up all over my room and the nurse was overheard saying "well, at least we know she ate dinner!".

But I guess things got a little crazy when the lab showed up to draw my blood. I totally flipped out, which is why I woke up the next morning in the seclusion room in restraints.

I drank so much that when I woke up monday morning I was still a little drunk. So I was not alarmed to find myself strapped down in the seclusion room. Maybe I was a little amused? You have to remember, at this point in my life I was quite dysfunctional and didn't care about much. Anyways, as I lay there surveying my situation, it dawned on me that I was wearing scrubs. I realized that at some point while I was unconscious (or semi-conscious) someone had stripped me and changed my clothes. Things seemed less funny after that.

After being checked on several times, a nurse came in and unstrapped me. She brought me out of the seclusion room and over to a chair in front of the nurses station and said "SIT". So I sat there. I'm not sure how much time passed, but eventually my doctor came on the unit, walked right over to me, and said "I can't believe I had to get a phone call at 10:30 last night for an order to put you in restraints! There is no longer any doubt in my mind that you need to be committed, only now I am rethinking my recommendation on where they send you after discharge!" Then he huffed away.

Next my court-appointed lawyer shows up. "Lisa, it doesn't look good."

"I know." I say.

When it is time, the nurse takes me from my chair to the room where the committment hearing takes place. I sit silently through the whole thing and don't say much. There's no point.

After the hearing, the nurse asks me if I want to go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. I shuffle into the bathroom, look in the mirror, and find that my hair is wild and crazy and I have dried puke on my face.

I just sat through my hearing with dried puke on my face.



I will end this story here. It just goes on and on and gets more painful and embarrassing. For years. Until eventually, remarkably, against all odds and predictions, I start to come out of it. I think maybe getting pregnant with Emma was what jumpstarted it. I started eating, quit drinking, started going to church. I did these things, not because I was sure that "health" was what I wanted, but because of my deep "mother's love" for my daughter. I had to take care of myself, to take care of her. A few more years would pass, bringing marriage and another baby along the way, before I really began to see that life without the eating disorder was possible, and worth fighting for.
I guess I'm still fighting. I have my ups and downs, but when I think back to where I used to be I realize how far I've come. It's like looking at a completely different person. When I look back I see a sad, desperate girl, acting out because she is afraid to face her feelings, desperately wanting help but unwilling to accept it, spinning her wheels in the mud that is the life that she created for herself.

I'm so glad I'm not her anymore.

Fear and Change

A lot has happened the past two days, or it seems like. I am trying to collect my thoughts. I wish my therapist was in on Fridays, but she isn't. I guess this blog will have to sub for therapy, which is ok because it has before.

Yesterday I completely freaked out. I think it was the strain of the past few days just wearing me down. I woke up very anxious and jumpy and had Chris dole me out a Xanax before he left for school. But at about 11:30 the Xanax wore off and I was even more anxious and then I started feeling suicidal. My meds are all locked up, but Chris had recently gotten some Lunesta which was not locked up and I had a strong feeling that if I was in the house any longer I was going to overdose on it. So I got Annie in the car and called Chris and told him that I was on my way to pick him up. His class was out but usually he takes the bus home, but I felt I had to get out of the house and cold not wait.
When we got home I was very upset and could not go back in the house. So I sat out in the car while Chris and Annie went in the house and had lunch. Then they came back and it was time for my appointment with Dr. Sean so we went there.
I was very upset at Dr.Sean's office, shaking, unable to talk or focus. Chris and the doctor talked most of the time. Dr. S decided to take me off Xanax, put me on librium instead, and increase my oral risperidone and also put me on risperidone injections right away. He wanted us to go to Walgreens (the only place that had the risperidal shot in stock) and come right back and have the nurse give me the shot. So we went to Walgreens but found out my insurance hadnt authorized the shot yet and it was like $280. So we called the Dr's office and he said it would be ok to wait until today after I had IOP, it would be authorized by then. He also had me make an appointment for next tues to come back to see him.
Then we went to hy-vee to get my librium but they didn't have any in stock. So I came home and took a Xanax and the rest of the evening was kind of a blur. At one point I asked Chris if it would be easier if I was just in a group home and he didn't have to be my caretaker and could go on with his life, but his answer was an emphatic "no". He got me a very lovely card at the Hy-vee and if made me feel alot better.

Ok, so I woke up this morning with these goals: go to IOP, pick up the risperdal shot and the Librium, take the shot to the Dr's office to have them inject it, stay calm and don't have a crisis.
At IOP, everything got shaken up.

I was supposed to see the psychiatrist at IOP for the first time today, but he was busy so he sent his physician's assistant to see me. The PA took my history, including the new meds from yesterday, and I could tell she was not happy. She had me wait while she consulted the doctor, and then she came back and told me to NOT get the shot, or the librium, and they want to take me off of most of my meds, starting with the methylphenidate right away. I just started to cry, because I was so anxious about this. I mean, i just had this "breakdown" yesterday, and Dr. S had changed some things and that was supposed to help, and here was this PA telling me to do the opposite. And the thing is, i know Dr. Sean and I trust him. These people don't know me at all.
On the way home i called Dr Seans nurse and talked to her and I was very upset and I didn't know what to do. Get the shot, dont get the shot? Go off the methylP? What about the librium? The PA told me to take Xanax in a pinch, but DR S didn't want me to take it anymore. AARRGH!

Dr. Sean called me back and told me that he had talked with the PA and I'm not even going to go into that whole conversation but basically he though I should do what they told me to do. So I was like "ok, see you tues" and he said no, they cancelled that appointment because the psychiatrist was going to do my meds now. So I just said "ok, well, take it easy then."

I feel as though my whole world has been shaken up. On one hand, I was looking forward to having a psychiatrist take a look at my meds. But I didn't know that he would switch everything around (without meeting me)! Who is this guy, anyway? Can I trust him? That might sound like a paranoid question, but I have dealt with psychiatrists who just as soon commit you as look at you. In the condition I was in yesterday, a psychiatrist might have committed me. I have always appreciated Dr. Seans's willingness to trust me and work with me. Now he is gone (or it feels like he is). Have I started down a risky road? Today at IOP I was signing releases and I noticed that one of them was for CPC, with is county case management, and i got really scared and asked them why they needed that release. I was thinking "are they thinking of putting me in a group home?"! But the lady said it was just a funding source, in case my insurance didn't pay for the IOP.

Part of me is thinking "run! run while you still can!". Have I started down a risky road that will lead to having my life controlled by psychiatrists and social workers again? Or am I just worrying too much. Should I quit IOP and just go back to DR Sean? But maybe he wouldn't take me back, after all, he agreed with the PA.

I don't know what to do. i will just try not to "be crazy". I am not going to give them any reason to committ me. I wish my therapist was in today. I would love to hear her take on all this.

I know I am getting paraniod because I was just in the tub and there was a knock on the door and the door bell rang at the same time, you know, like "officaial" people do. I felt cold all over because I knew it was the sherriff, come to take me to the psych ward, and all I could think is "no they cant do this! I'm ok! I'm not doing anything wrong!". But it was just the UPS guy with a book from Barnes and Noble.com. Sigh of relief.

over a fence

I was suprised and happy to learn yesterday that my dad bonded out of jail. I guess the felony escape charge from iowa didnt come up on the computer, so it looked to them that he hadn't been in trouble before, and of course he didn't say anything. So my dad is back home and he told me that they even left him one full pipe so he could smoke when he got there. He has a lawyer and is hopeful to get probation, but I am under no illusions that he could complete probation successfully. I mean, they do drug tests, and he would have to get a job (gasp) and stuff like that. Well i am going to try not to worry and just be glad that for now he is out.

His bust made the evening news and I guess he had like 15 minutes of fame while he was in jail. the other prisoners were whispering about him and asking "is that the guy? Is that him?" and they were giving him high fives and stuff. I guess he got a nickname in jail- "old school"- that's what they were calling him. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to glorify what my dad did or make light of the situation. It's just that sometimes I think my dad is funny, is all. Do you think I should start calling him "Old School"?

It turns out his neighbor Dave turned him in. My dad built a privacy fence that obstructed Dave's view (they all like to sit on the front porch and watch the goins' on down south) and this pissed Dave off. He started hinting to my dad that if he didn't take down the fence, he was going to narc him off. My Dad was worried about it, but didn't really think Dave would do it, especially since Dave sold pot for my dad sometimes. Well, my Dad is really mad now and he told me last night that now he is going to extend the fence all the way to the street just to show him and mess up his view even more! Seriously, these are grown men.

IOP was ok. Not great, just ok. If nothing else, I will get to see the psychiatrist on friday and hopefully get some input on my meds. There are only 3 of us in IOP. Maybe i will write a little more about it later.

The weather here is so nice. I stopped at the store today and got some more sidewalk chalk and bubbles and some little plastic boats for Annie to play with in her bucket o' water. So we are sitting outside again and enjoying ourselves. I actually feel pretty decent right at this moment.

I know I have been behind and inconsistent on commenting on people's blogs, and I am sorry about that. I have been reading every single blog but sometimes that is all I can do and I cant think of anything to say. But I know alot of people are struggling right now and i am thinking of you all even if I didnt comment. I will try to do better, the last few days have been crazy. Thank you all for the support and love you have shown me, it is the best therapy ever!

not going to put a title on this one....

....beacause I cant think of anything positive to say. No way to put a happy, peppy spin on the huge pile of crap this day has been. Well, here it is.

Was paralyzed by anxiety almost from the moment I got up, yet determined not to start the day out with a Xanax. Puttered around the house a bit, tried to clean things up and get ready for my day. I had an appointment with Dr Sean this afternoon, and my husband was going to come, and I was looking forward to all of the input. I was thinking it was going to be sort of a "where do we go from here" type of meeting. Oh, btw, my skype with the psychiatrist that was supposed to happen yesterday was cancelled because my insurance wouldnt cover it. SO Sean's still my main man.

One idea I had that I wanted to propose is doing iop at the local hospital. I called and got information about it and it seems pretty doable. Plus I think I have care for annie all arranged, and I would be home by the time Emma got home from school. Its actually only 3 hours 3 days a week, so I wouldnt even be away from annie too long. And if i had therapy on tues and thurs, that would be some form of treatment every day.

SO anyways, I was going to propose all this to the doctor, but his nurse called and told me he had a family emergency and had to leave for the day. UGH. I got rescheduled for tomorrow, but chris cant come too because he has class. And I really wanted chris to be there. Bolth to witness that I am being good with the xanax, and also to be a part of my treatment planning. Damnit.

Well, it is what it is. I did get an appointment with Kim tonight because I feel I am losing it. To get from here to there, I am just going to try to do one thing at a time. Finish this blog.make an early dinner. Do a little housekeeping. Like in the group home, when they told you it was therapy, but it was actually chores. Sweeping the floor, cleaning the toilet. You had to mark it off on a chart that said LBD (learning by doing). Can you believe that crap!? Never again will i be in a place like that. Thats why I am working so hard to keep it together, and reaching out for the help I know I need.

well, here's a bit of good news

So I am feeling a little better today. This morning I was counting my Ativan and i realized that I didn't take a third one on thursday. I just counted wrong or something. So that was a huge relief, and I feel like I am taking the meds responsibly.
I saw Dr. S at the saturday clinic for my vitamin b shot and mentioned to him that the Ativan wasn't working that well so he gave me a weeks worth of Xanax and he wants my husband to come in with me to my appointment next week, just to get his view of how I am handling the benzos. I feel good about this and I am glad I have my husband and my doctor's support. My meds are all still locked up, and I am totally ok with that, especially with having benzo's in the house and all.

I feel so fragile right now but will do just about anything not to have to go to the psych ward. I am just trying to take things one day at a time. Thanks so much for all your support!

April Fool's day part II, and Le Whiff

Ok, I have to confess that I didn't think up the idea for the fake eggs on my own. I found it online. But I still count myself creative, in the sense that i am willing to try out new ideas and add new ways to have fun with my kids.

I saw Dr. Sean today and nearly had a panic attack in his office. I have been so depressed, and something that happens with me is that once I am in a prolonged state of depression I get this secondary anxiety. Sort of a fight or flight response to the constant emotional pain. Except I can fight it and I cant flee, so my anxiety just keeps rising and I start doing things like crying suddenly, jumping at noises, swearing, ect. Basically I am a beast to live with right now. My poor husband. I went to bed last night at 8 just to put him out of his misery.
So anyways, I saw the doctor and he wants me to get DAILY shots of B12 for a week, than weekly for a month. He also really wanted me to consider adding ANOTHER antipsychotic, since he is wondering if this might be fallout to me going off the seroquel in january. And, the good doctor doled out *7* doses of ativan to get me through this week! And you know I ripped open the pharmacy bag with my teeth as soon as I got in the car. Yes, I am currently feeling much better than I have in weeks. I am determined not to abuse them. But how can you abuse 7 pills, anyways? I guess that was the point of the abbreviated dose.

SO, I go in for a shot tomorrow, one sat, then again mon and all week. I am going to have B12 coming out my ears (or my kidneys).

I am struggling with restricting, but I don't really feel like getting into that right now. Maybe if I start to feel better, that will take care of itself.

Oh I almost forgot-Le Whiff! It's this new product that comes in an inhaler and apparently with the coffee flavor you get about as much caffiene as a shot of espresso. You just inhale it. I'm torn. Part of me thinks this could be bad for me. But the caffiene junkie in me is REALLY REALLY excited and wants to click on over to the website and order some! Hmm, what to do, what to do.

April Fool's Day

These are the "eggs and toast" I fooled the girls with this morning. The "eggs" are yogurt with apricot halves, and the "toast" is angel food cake. The girls really got a kick out of it. Chris was not fooled for a minute, though, and I think he was disappointed that I did not really make him eggs. Oh well.

Don't have much else to say. I have been very depressed and anxious these last few days. At first I thought the Vitamin B helped but now I am not sure. I see Dr Sean again today. Maybe I will write a real post after that.

fall fun!

Making caramel apples! The girls had so much fun unwrapping the caramels, stirring the melting caramel, dipping the apples, and of course licking the bowl!

Huge pumpkin at Hy-Vee (grocery store). I put in a guess of 918 lbs. but since I havent heard back I dont think I won.

A culinary delight I call "octopus over seaweed". You should have seen the girl's huge grins and heard the giggles when I called them to lunch!

Me and the girls at the LDS church's trunk'r'treat. If you don't know what that is, basically we line all the cars up in the parking lot. Some trunks are decorated. The kids go from trunk to trunk and get candy. It's a nice warm up for Haloween.

Our jack o' lanterns.


I love being a mom, especially this time of year and straight on through to the Christmas season! I love creating fun memories for my kids! It's kind of like living the best parts of my childhood all over again.

When I am really depressed I try not to let it spoil the holidays. I don't want my kids to have bad memories of feel like they missed out because Mommy was sick. I guess my trick is to pace myself. Pick one thing, like making caramel apples, and think of it as a goal. Like "I'm making caramel apples with the girls tonight, so what can I do today in order to feel good enough to make that happen?". It's like a balancing process.

Yesterday was I didn't do such a good job. We had the trunk or treat in the evening, and I knew it, but still I overscheduled the day and ran myself ragged. Part of it is the methylphenidate, and part of it is this feeling that if I just stay busy, I can outrun the depression. Anyway, by the time we had to leave for the event, I was way stressed out. But I did what I could do to turn it around. I let Chris take the girls around, and I stayed at the trunk to pass out candy. Seeing all the excited little kids in their costumes and wishing them all a happy haloween reminded me that this was a happy event. It was just the therapy I needed! So we all had fun and,last night, that was all that mattered.