I'll flag, I'll fall, I'll falter, I'll find my day may be, far and away...

Thursday, 11/01/18, 1:55pm

I don't really know how to start at the moment. I guess I'll first give you a brief update on some things. I had intended to write and upload a post a couple weeks ago. But... something got in the way. I was out of the house for a few hours, and in between a yoga class and PT appointment I was hanging out at a nearby coffee shop typing out a post. I didn't finish but planned to later that day. Well I went home after the appointment and discovered water dripping from the ceiling around the doorway of the study. I realized quickly that our master bathroom is directly above it. The source of the water was from our toilet, which we later discovered was leaking due to some rusted through tank bolts. The toilet had been jostled just enough that morning by the cleaning crew we have come every two weeks. It likely had only been leaking/flooding for 3-4 hours, but it was kinda bad since you know, it was coming from the tank which just keeping refilling. The water leaked down into the study and then down into our basement. A bit of a nightmare really.

Here's our bathroom with toilet room. Of course, it's still carpeted because it's one thing we haven't gotten around to changing and because when the house was built, somebody had this amazing idea that bathrooms should be carpeted. Those are my footsteps in the soaked carpet trying to figure out what was happening.

A lot of water mitigation happened with massive industrial grade fans and dehumidifiers, some tearing up of rooms, some plumbing and insurance stuff (plumbing only to fix the water shutoff to that toilet so we could have water to the rest of the house, not to fix the toilet). And of course quite a bit of disruption to life.

We have a lot to do. We're getting stuff all ready to soon rip up and redo our other upstairs bathroom, since it is looking like that toilet, also original to the house, is having a slow leak going on.

I guess the next project will be our bathroom, then the study (which also needs some evaluation as to damage to the walls and ceiling).

It's "good" since the flooding really only hit rooms we had planned to redo. There's some damage to our cork flooring on the main floor just outside the study but we have some leftover cork in the garage so it should be a reasonably easy fix.

But then of course it just sucks. It sucks. I don't like having to share the kids' shower. I don't like having to go to their bathroom when I wake up needing to pee in the middle of the night. I don't like the smell when I pass by the door to the study. Sigh. I know I'm a spoiled brat, but I'm still rather grumpy about all of this.



So the main reason I picked up my Chromebook to write is that today has been really challenging. I woke up feeling really really bad. I felt feel sadness, lots of shame, self-doubt, and probably even some anger. It all seems silly too, but I am learning from my DBT class to validate my feelings. (I mentioned some about DBT in the last post- I'm about to finish my 5th week of it, going MWF 9am-noon, with additional homework and an hour a week meeting with the individual therapist they assigned to me). I'm not sure I'm even going to go into the whys of my feelings, even though I tend to just share everything. I guess there's some shame happening over why I've been feeling this way.

I've been working really hard all day with lots of DBT skills. I made it to my strength circuit class at the Y, even though I really didn't want to (opposite to emotion action); I did a lot of observing/describing/participating (under the mindfulness module) during the class and tried to do it all "one-mindfully", so paying close attention to my form and breath in each movement; I used the "thoughts" skill (under wise mind ACCEPTS within the distress tolerance module) to count things in the gym like rungs on the upstairs rail around the track and my reps and the cones on the floor and various parts of the walls and floor. I've listened to a lot of music today, favorites and soothing stuff (from the distraction techniques and again, wise mind ACCEPTS). (FYI, I'm only briefly referencing the specific skills because I know you all can read up on things more on your own).

I've been taking a lot of "me time" today. I ate a good lunch and drank a nice latte after exercising, but kept up with the recent tracking food thing I've been doing to help lose some weight, and I even entered each piece of Halloween candy I ate. I read, listened to more music, worked on DBT homework to help me through some of the emotions. Eventually, just before starting this post, I had a big breakdown of sobbing. I'm working hard on the DBT validation of emotions stuff and "riding the emotional wave" stuff to just experience it all and not judge it. It's really really really hard, but AND (dialectics from mindfulness) I think it's helping.

One of the things DBT is teaching me is that doing things that help, even just a little bit, are worth doing. I don't have to try and force my way out of a bad spell by pushing away the feelings and making myself do a full recovery. I think I've put this pressure on myself for a long time that I just need to be "all better". I've never really understood quite what that meant, but I've never been there, and so in my mind I'm a failure. I've also had this expectation of myself that whenever people ask how I'm doing I answer with something along the lines of "I'm doing much better". Because that feels like what everyone wants to hear. I'm still working on a new response to that question.

I don't know that I have anything else to say right now. I guess I just want to say that the DBT stuff is worthwhile, for people struggling with emotions or whatever, and really just for everybody out there.

and all these sorrows I have seen, they lead me to believe that everything's a mess

Monday, 08/13/18, 11:21am, 4:17pm, 5:30pm

My brain.

It's hard not to despise my brain when my depression strikes, or even just in thinking about or talking about my depression. Hmmm, maybe I'll change that to "the depression" rather than "my" depression. Maybe that helps, or can help, take away some of that self-shaming. "My" makes it sound like my fault.

Anyway.

I get these depressive thoughts that run me in circles thinking that "I suck", "I'm a failure at [insert anything and everything]", "I don't deserve to live", "I don't deserve to even be treated for depression", etc, etc. This morning I was trying to (and I've certainly tried this before as well) tell myself that "these thoughts are the depression", "they aren't real", etc. And I was capable enough to tell myself this (which is a long way from what I've been in the past, or even most of my crashes), but I couldn't get myself to believe this. I start saying things like "I suck so bad that I can't even stop believing all this even though I know it's the depression".

Nasser and I were discussing this morning how to fight these thoughts, you know, cuz I was in the midst of a crash. He talked about learning to recognize that these thoughts are happening and that these thoughts are originated by the depression, which is basically the foundation of using mindfulness for depression. But then we talked about, after recognizing this, placing these thoughts away. Sorta like all the distraction techniques.

I'm starting to get a good image in my head of where to place these thoughts. Last week I was at my sister's house. And she's really big into gardening and yard work, all of which I have a lot of trouble with. I saw that she has this method of taking care of these Japanese beetles that eat the tops of fruit trees. She keeps a little bucket of soapy water in the backyard and when she finds a beetle she puts it in there. The beetle can't escape because of the soap in the water and it drowns. I saw this method again last night when Nasser and I watched a video of a homemade yellow jacket trap and they used soapy water again to drown the yellow jackets in the end.

So now, I'm using the soapy water image to "trap" and "drown" my depression thoughts. The image helped this morning, but I haven't exactly experimented with it much. I'm not sure that it will work but I guess over the years I'm never sure that anything will work. I just have to keep trying.

The other thing that Nasser reminded me of this morning is that progress doesn't have to be fast. I don't have to become an expert at a particular method in a day. The whole idea that progress can be slow is something I need to work on, something I need to apply to everything I do. I'm getting there with losing weight and trying to get in shape. I've been trying to make bits of progress here and there. I've been trying to recognize that I can do 20min on the stationary bike at home and still feel like I did something worthwhile. And I'm trying to notice things like "hey, I haven't been snacking so much between meals lately". I don't have to lose 20 pounds in a few weeks or something. Even if the progress is slow, it's still progress.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned, and at the moment I don't feel like perusing my latest posts, I'm still getting ECT treatment but it's been every 4 weeks for pretty much the whole summer I think. Once we hit the 4 week stretch, after increasing the interval each time, the ECT psychiatrist gave me the option to stop there and see how it goes, or to do some more treatments at 4 week intervals and see how it goes. And I chose the latter. So now, Nasser and I plan to meet with the doctor on Thursday to discuss the plan moving forward. I think, or assume, that this meeting will determine that it's time to stop, but I also want to have a clear plan moving forward of how we'll check in to be sure I don't need to go back to it. My last treatment, 2 weeks ago, was... awful. Let me clarify. The treatment itself was fine although I seemed to have some more physical pain than usual, but then that physical pain seemed to last longer than it ever had before. And I seemed to have a big emotional crash as well, that didn't recover all too quickly, and maybe it's still a bit of an issue (although it's hard to tell since the boys go back to school on Wednesday and maybe I'm sick of the summer).

I feel mostly ready to be done with ECT. But then there's also this, I guess, crutch feeling to it. I'm scared to stop. I'm scared I'll stop and I'll steadily get worse and worse, but it will be hard to tell and I won't want to admit it, and then I won't want to admit or accept that I really just need another treatment boost or whatever. I'm scared it will be too hard to recognize what I need. It's always been hard to recognize that anyway. (I assume it has been, since my memory isn't all too good.)

But then I'm glad to stop and have more memory improvement. I still find it really difficult to discover things I don't remember, I find it difficult to talk with people that I don't talk with regularly and I have no memory of how much I've talked with them about my treatment or if I'm forgetting times when I did see them over this past year.

I'm glad to stop trying to figure out a bunch of logistics for every time I have a treatment.

I'm glad to stop having to deal with the fasting, the clear liquids only stuff, and the recovery over the couple to several to many days after.

I hope that this will go well. I hope I continue to have improvement in this fight. I hope that I continually find ways that really work and that I'm able to practice them and that I'm able to make some of them second nature. I hope that I can start feeling more confident in things in my life. I hope that I can feel confident enough to start and stick with choir again in a few weeks, like I plan on doing. I hope that I can keep feeling more and more confident as a parent, and really every other role I play in this life. I hope.

this is the sound of all of us, singing with love and the will to trust

Saturday, 10/21/17, 12:54pm

I felt the first twinges of depression when I was a pre-teen, middle school/ junior high -ish age. I can't remember exactly. I do remember that I felt lots and lots of suicidal thoughts then. It was often, probably almost continuous, and something I didn't tell a single other soul at the time. I simply thought I was screwed up, I was wrong and different, and I certainly was nowhere near normal.

Today I felt a rush of those feelings I felt as a pre-teen come back from a video I watched. It was this amazing 7th grader delivering a poem she had written about the societal pressures on girls and coming to terms with "you are good enough". It's worth a watch.

In watching her poem, I was reminded of how alone and wrong and awful I felt at that age. I was reminded of how, when my hormones calmed down or whatever, in high school and college, I pretended like that part of my life had never happened. I still didn't talk about it, I still had no idea how I had "gotten over it" or whatever, and I probably just embraced the stinking stigma even more. Perhaps it's part of the reason my depression hit so hard the second time around. Perhaps it's part of the reason I was/am treatment-resistant.

My mother-in-law is in town this weekend, this is Adam's mother of course. She has become even more involved with NAMI and such since Adam's death, and she was telling us about this NAMI conference she went to in Chicago this past week. She attended the keynote on suicide prevention and was telling us about what she'd learned. It was so... touching/moving/tear-jerking to hear about some of these things that are known and taught and are, from my experience of feeling suicidal at many points in my life, so right on. She talked about how the biggest deterrent for people from acting on their thoughts is thinking they won't succeed. (So true).

She also talked about a man who spoke to them about having survived a suicide attempt of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge, I think one of the ones in this story.

Here's the video of the one man telling his story, also worth a watch (whew, personally sobbed through this one, big time, but again worth.the.watch.):

Sorry, dear readers, that this is such a heavy, heavy blog post. It's important stuff though, stuff that I think I tend to gloss over more often than not. And even though I'm doing so, so much better than I was just a few short months ago, it doesn't mean that all of this is gone. The depression that hit about a week and a half ago was hard. And not devoid of these thoughts. I think that I had had these really high expectations, since "getting better" from ECT, these expectations that I'd never feel the "I want to die" thoughts again. And maybe that's why it hit as hard as it did that day. Because I had convinced myself that I'm too much better for those thoughts.

I don't really know what recovery totally looks like. I know that I have a lot more good days than bad these days, LOTS more. So I consider that recovery. I know that typically when depression hits now, it's not as hard as it used to be. So I consider that recovery. But I guess it probably doesn't mean that it will never hit as hard as it used to. And that can still mean recovery.

I've never acted on the "I want to die" thoughts. I've never cut myself, or attempted suicide. I suppose that doesn't mean that I never will, despite the recovery. But surrounding myself with people who love and support me helps, and keeping up with mindfulness/meditation activities helps, and seeing my therapist and psychiatrist regularly helps, and continuing to find new and extra ways to help helps. The battle never really ends, and I can never really be, well, off my guard.

But that can still mean recovery. And I can still revel in that.

To finish, some fall colors from yesterday's run attempt, which turned into a walk to finish. And some yardwork to get ready for the big town compost pickup this morning. And TK's last soccer game.

Oh and one more thing. Today is World Singing Day, which we didn't attend the event in Boulder for it today, but I still hold it dear in my heart. I am not doing choir this year, because of treatment and getting better and all that, but I do miss it in so many ways, and I miss regularly singing, even though I've picked it back up for boys' bedtimes again more recently.

I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings, coming down is the hardest thing

Sunday, 10/08/17, 11:23am, 1:34pm, 3:33pm (plus all the draft times this week, including the hour this morning that I'd been writing and nothing saved, you effing blogger, you!)

Oi, whatever. I've had some time to get over losing the entire post that was ready to publish, and I've decided that this new one will just be better.

That's the attitude to take when things go wrong, right? And that's certainly not something that is instinctual for me, but I'm working on it.

I haven't blogged since the Las Vegas shooting that happened last Sunday evening. I don't really want to say much, there's plenty being said out there anyway, but the one thing I want to add to the conversation is my frustration that every time we have a mass shooting (and they happen way more often in this country than they should), many, many people decide to blame mental illness/ mental healthcare so that they can take the blame off of some of the more obvious and true factors. I appreciated this article which discusses the many reasons "Better Mental-Health Care Won't Stop Mass Shootings." I could quote the entire article here to state my case, but I'll just put in this one bit:

“If we were able to magically cure schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and major depression, that would be wonderful,” Jeffrey Swanson, a professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at the Duke University School of Medicine, told ProPublica. “But overall violence would go down by only about 4 percent.”

Personally, my depressed and anxious thoughts have never once led to thoughts of mass killing or violence against others in any way; the only "violent" thoughts I've had have been directed towards myself. It's so unfortunate that these mass killings keep happening, obviously, for many reasons, but it most certainly doesn't help the stigma against mental illness. And that just makes the journey towards recovery that much more difficult for people like me.

And yet, the difficulty I encounter doesn't deter me from "daring greatly" and continuing this blog and continuing to tell my story to neighbors and acquaintances and friends and family and friends of friends. I've had the uncomfortable silences and quick topic changes and shifting glances with people plenty of times before, and I've been told in various ways to "get over it" or lost friends or been recommended all kinds of things that don't help, or I've tried plenty of times before, or aren't even applicable to depression versus simple sadness. I've had to sit through all kinds of completely non-entertaining jokes that undermine the struggle I've gone through. And yet, I've also been told, by many people, that I'm brave, that I'm strong. I've been thanked over and over for being open about my struggles. Now that I'm doing quite a bit better, so many people have shared with me their happiness over my recovery. I've been hugged and been offered help and love countless times. I've been shown appreciation by fellow sufferers of mental illness for being open. The good bits make it all worth it. And when it's someone who has similar difficulties who feels helped, even just remotely, by my blog and by my being open, that feels the most touching to my heart. I told an acquaintance today that I am a patient, first and a mental health advocate, second. I hope to make things better for all of us sufferers as much as I can.

I also wanted to share with you fine readers some things from this week. This was my first full week being off the 24/7 supervision requirement. (As a reminder, I'm still going through electro-convulsive therapy, or ECT, but we're down to treatment once every two weeks right now. I guess we are truly into the maintenance phase of ECT, but we're still hoping to spread the treatments out even more eventually. We'll keep it at every 2 weeks for several more treatments to make sure I'm not deteriorating the few days prior to each treatment before we spread it out more. Oh and I still have 24/7 on treatment days, of course.) I'd say that the week went pretty well, but I think I noticed a lack of confidence quite a few times. But I think I need to figure out, it feels like it's from scratch, how to live with myself, for myself, all over again. I think I haven't really known how to do that, successfully, for many years now. I have a pile of books I want to, plan to read, several of which are of the more "self-help" type, but it's been rather difficult to read for quite some time now. The treatment made it really hard to get through any kind of reading, like my brain couldn't handle it, maybe still can't handle it. I started re-reading this week a book I got years ago, at the recommendation of a therapist, called Mind Over Mood, but I haven't gotten very far yet. And this one has lots of exercises in it too, so not strictly reading. It feels like therapy has been helping more the last several sessions, than it has in a long while. I'm also practicing more with a phone app I have to help with calming down in the moment. The only one I like so far is called "Meditation Game", although I've been downloading several more free ones to try to find a few options for myself. I've still been using the mood tracking app, "Daylio", and it's actually been a full two weeks since my mood has fallen below the average rating, or "meh". That's pretty good, in my humble opinion. I'm still working on my schedule for this week, but I plan to put a little more responsibility onto my shoulders, at least a few times, even if it's only for short periods of time.

I have another big thing to tell you all. I drove yesterday, for the first time in almost four months... woah. It didn't go entirely to plan, because originally I was going to drive my car, which is automatic, but when it was time to leave with the kids, it wouldn't start. I guess it shouldn't come as much of a surprise since we haven't actually started it in several months. We ended up using Nasser's car, which is manual, so... that was fun. It really wasn't too bad, but I learned stick shift later in life, so it made the driving again experience a bit more stressful. We didn't have the kids with us, of course; RG had a birthday party and we took TK to my parents' house for a playdate with his cousin while all the grownups watched the Cubs' game (stinkin' Cubs yesterday!!! ps- yeah I'm a Cubs fan since I grew up in the northwest suburbs of Chicago). We started me off in an empty parking lot, then progressed to the empty road in the business park, then on to real streets (taking the smaller roads where possible) back to my parents' house. We hung out for a bit and put in an order for Thai food before heading out again. This time I drove on some of the busier streets to pick up some dessert before even busier streets to then highway to get the Thai food. Nasser took over after that to pick up RG from the birthday party and head back to my parents' house. All in all a decent amount of driving, and I feel a bit more confident, although I'd prefer to get back to my car sometime soon, once it's fixed. We haven't decided yet when I'll drive on my own, and of course, then eventually, with the kids.

It feels like lots been happening, even though it hasn't really been that much, it's just... life. Despite being so much better than "before" (before ECT really), there's plenty of ups and downs, which still surprise me, oftentimes. As a friend said at the Moms' Night Out we had this week (which was so, so, so wonderful to be around my big group of mom friends again), "it's hard to be human."

Let's finish off with some gorgeous fall colors pictures... before we get snow (pwhat???!!!) here in Colorado tonight and tomorrow. (This is real, I'm not kidding...)

in my place, in my place were lines that I couldn't change, I was lost, oh yeah

Wednesday, 09/27/17, 10:36am, 1:01pm

Hey there.

As usual, of late, you know, like the last several weeks, haha, we shouldn't put any kind of "standard" on my life of the past many months or years or anything like that... but "as usual", the week, since Monday, has been going rather decently well. Unlike the weekend was. This seems to be my life as of late, shall we say the last month-ish? Because as a quick reminder, I suffer from treatment-resistant depression, and anxiety, at least for like the last 10 years or so, with an additional bout of it when I was a pre-teen.

If you haven't read my whole blog, which I'm sure most people haven't, you may not know my history. If you want a better understanding of how my depression manifested, or just a reminder, read here. As many of my readers know, we experienced a big loss last year: my brother-in-law Adam, who had been suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, died on May 13th on May 13th when hit by a train. I think my depression took a big turn for the worse after his death, and I couldn't seem to recover. You know, speaking of which, I was so lost in my own "worseness" and whatever, I didn't even acknowledge the 1-year anniversary of Adam's death in my blog. In the years before his death, I was medicated for depression and anxiety, I went regularly to therapy, tried to practice various coping techniques at home, and I think I often convinced myself that I was "good enough". I'm not sure that I ever really was, even before Adam's death, but when medications worked, at least a little, it often didn't seem worth it to switch to something else.

Last year, November 29, is when my psychiatrist first brought up "treatment-resistant depression"; this was before he was quite ready to diagnose me as such but when we were going to try one more antidepressant as a last-ditch effort. My post about that, actually, describes my various medication efforts decently well. I've been re-reading old posts more today, hence all the links, mainly because of my memory issues from ECT. If we recall, I've got this weird phenomenon going on called "state-dependent memory", so it's rather difficult for me to really remember how truly bad I was before ECT. I think going through some old blog posts, especially seeing ones I wrote when I was in a bad state, or like when in one of the posts I described how 5 of the last 7 days have been shitty days.

That's not how I'm doing currently. It's changed... significantly... since ECT. It's weird, from that first time I'd ever mentioned ECT, hoping I'd never have to read more about it, to my description of the first treatment, and to writing 5-star reviews of my ECT place on Google, things have changed, just a bit.

I am much, much better. Although the weekends have been tough, over and over again, and this Sunday Nasser and I discussed various treatment changes, we discussed it at length with my long-time, primary psychiatrist, the one I've been seeing for many, many years now. I'd say, for sure, that he knows me, he knows my history, very, very well. Nasser and I, both, trust his medical/psychiatric opinion. When we mentioned the idea of trying a new antidepressant, he was immediately, like, "oh no, I wouldn't want to chase perfection." Because he sees how much I have improved, and really, we have a pretty decent idea of what we need to work on. It's the weekends- whether it's the lack of routine, or ridiculous expectations I place onto to-dos, etc, I do believe it's something we can improve, without changing treatment. It's something we can improve with the help of all the troubleshooting we're doing, with the help of my therapist, with the help of my doctors, and family, and friends. It's not something that feels like the end of the world anyway, because in strong contrast to how I was doing before ECT, I can, and do, improve and recovery within in the same day of dipping down into that depression.

Well. I think that's just about as much as I can handle today with this post. Sorry, dear readers, I am feeling a call and need to relax. Haha. Before I do, I'm going to leave you with a picture from my run on Sunday, the one that really helped me recover, the one in the rain.

Oh, and some pictures of my kiddos doing chores the previous weekend... because despite what I say about weekends being tough, they haven't been all bad.

you've got to get yourself together, you've got stuck in a moment and now you can't get out of it, don't say that later will be better

Sunday, 09/24/17, 5:23pm

I've been debating the last ten to fifteen minutes about whether or not I actually want to blog today. I guess I finally decided to try. But I can't guarantee anything mind-blowing or lengthy or whatever.

I felt really great when I blogged on Friday, really that whole day. I felt like, hey, I can handle this depression thing. And although I'm feeling slightly more capable now, five hours ago I felt like I was in the depths of some of the worst depression ever. But I'm going to take a deep breath and write about it, I'm going to dare greatly and share about stuff that is very difficult to share.

It's weird. Yesterday, for as Nasser called it, 2/3 of the day, I really was doing well, I was enjoying the day, I felt good. Then I got triggered somehow, I yelled at the kids quite a bit, I felt like Nasser scolded me about that, really I think he just asked me to stop yelling at them, but I felt like a complete failure: as a mother, as a person, in my existence. I've questioned my existence a lot this weekend, and that's been tough. Nasser has been supporting me, a ton, and really got me through the worst of it today, enough so that I actually feel like I made a decent recovery. A recovery, like I'd been talking about on Friday, that wouldn't have happened before ECT, remember electro-convulsive therapy, this crazy treatment I've been going through since mid-June. Today's state had me wondering if I need another round of acute phase of ECT, you know the time for a few weeks where I have to have treatment 3x a week. It sounds awful to have to go through that again, but that's how bad I felt earlier today. Then, this afternoon's "recovery" has me feeling like maybe that doesn't have to be the answer. (By the way, I think the biggest part of my recovery this afternoon was getting myself to get out for a run, in the rain. It wasn't a long run, but it was slightly longer than the last, also slightly faster, and felt a bit better, maybe partially because of the rain.) Nasser mentioned maybe we could look at other antidepressant options. I mentioned on Friday we have an appointment with the doctor; I had been referring to the ECT doctor, but we also have an appointment with my regular psychiatrist this week too. I even have an appointment with my therapist. Lots of good, important appointments. And, really, exercise was always super important to me, and maybe it still really is, probably it still is. And it's been awfully hard to get exercise in, especially the way I want it, with ECT. I mean, for quite a bit of the treatment, I had tons of fatigue, plus treatments rather often, so it was almost impossible to do anything. Now, it seems the 24/7 thing gets in the way of a lot of exercise. I need a buddy for everything, and granted, I've been doing walks a lot more often with the family I hang out with, with is so much better than nothing. But, I miss bike rides and runs, and the freedom to exercise however I want, whenever I want. The flexibility in the 24/7 is helping, and I know we are getting there, slowly.

Oh that neighborhood party I was talking about on Friday didn't happen this weekend. They moved it due to weather, which is good considering all the rain today. I have to say, I kinda enjoyed the bit of cold and rainy weather this weekend. It helped avoid the guilt and shame feelings of not spending tons of time outside, which wouldn't have helped my depression. I've really enjoyed wearing sweatshirts and comfy sweatpants. Plus, I think the colder weather plus rain rather helped my run today. I'm looking forward to lots of colder fall weather.

Alright, I don't know that I have much more to say. I shared about the ups and downs of my weekend. Hoping to keep chugging along alright. FYI, all you friends (and really anyone) out there who struggle with similar stuff, and hide it from almost everyone you know, or don't hide it, because everyone's struggle sucks, I hold you all in my hearts closely. Lots of love to you all, dear readers~

I'll trip, fall, pick myself up and walk unafraid, I'll be clumsy instead, hold me love me or leave me high.

Friday, 09/22/17, 11:26am, 1:49pm

Hah. I know I've started a blog post (or two) recently at the same time- 11:26am. The reason I remember the time so well is it's also my birthday- 11/26 or November 26th- haha. I guess I get similarly timed urges to write on different days, or something.

Happy first day of autumn, everyone. I'm glad we're technically out of summer now, even if the weather isn't perfectly following, you know, due to climate change and all.

It's been a little while since I've written, at least compared to how often I was writing, but there's a reason for it. For awhile I had some trouble filling my time during the days; reading has been awfully difficult most days, even though I bring like the same set of books around with me to everyone's houses when I go and hang out with different family during the days. But then this week, well last Saturday actually, when I was having some depressive feelings, I recovered a little by restarting a Netflix show that Nasser and I used to watch some time ago, one that I really didn't remember much. So it's kinda like I'm watching it for the first time again. But that's been a nice way to fill up a lot of my time, haha. And really, this is a good time to be doing this, considering I am still going through this rather intense treatment, right you guys? Does everyone remember I'm going through electro-convulsive therapy, or ECT as we refer to it a lot of the time? Although, we are seriously getting the treatments more spread out, which is an awesome, awesome accomplishment. I don't know if accomplishment is the right word, but it does feel that way a lot of the time. My last treatment was Monday, this week, and my next treatment isn't until Monday, Oct 2nd, so a full two weeks apart! Pretty nuts, pretty awesome, hopefully it goes well. I'm getting much closer to coming off the 24/7 thing, I think, I hope. We have an appointment with the doctor next week, and I do want to talk about that a bit with him, as well as some of the memory stuff, in particular, the "state dependent memory" thing. Now, I know I mentioned this phenomenon briefly in this post, but I couldn't find it elsewhere in the blog, so I might never have actually explained this. Maybe I did, and my quick search just couldn't find it, but just in case, I'm going to explain it again.

So. I've been finding that I have lots of gaps in my memory over the past, well, bunch of years, like at least since I was diagnosed with depression after RG's birth. What the doctor has explained to us, is that I'm being affected by "state dependent memory". State dependent memory is (by Wikipedia's definition) the "phenomenon through which memory retrieval is most efficient when an individual is in the same state of consciousness as they were when the memory was formed." So we hear about this when it comes to alcoholics or drug users the most, but this applies to things like depression, as well. So I formed a LOT of memories over the past many years in a state of depression, and now that I'm much, much less depressed than I was (which is, of course, a good thing), I have lost a lot of those memories. It's... confusing. The last year, since Adam's death, has probably been especially worse. His death seemed to trigger me a bit further than before, and there's a bunch of things from the past year that I just can't remember. It's overwhelming in some ways to just not even know what memories I'm missing to some extent. I had planned two friends' ski trips this ski season- one in January with kids and one in March without kids. Nasser has shown me pictures from both and talked me through the trips a bit to try and bring back some of the memories. The January one, while super fun, was just about completely missing from my memory prior to talking with him, most likely because there was an additional, super stressful aspect to that trip. Unfortunately the original house I'd booked for it was double-booked and our party ended up being the group that lost out, but of course the owner didn't tell me until the day we were supposed to be moving in to the house. I scrambled to find a replacement, which ended up having several issues, and I put all the blame and stress onto myself. All that depression and anxiety I was in for that weekend made it so that the "state" I was in while forming all those memories was a bit more severe than the normal stress I would have been under, and apparently the result was my mind lost ALL the memories from that weekend, like at first I didn't even remember the trip had happened. I still don't seem to recall any of a trip we took last fall to Tuscon, AZ for my brother-in-law's father's funeral, and we have tried talking about that one and looking at some pictures. It's kinda a scary phenomenon to have going on, and I'm hoping to get a better understanding of what to expect, what's considered "normal", how much we can bring back those memories through pictures and talking, etc, from the doctor next week.

I mentioned before that I'm having a hard time reading books, somewhat because of short-term memory issues still, but definitely some because of my cognitive side effects. Like my brain just has trouble processing stuff. And processing books seems a lot more difficult than processing a show. By the way, the show I'm watching is Once Upon A Time. It's quite fun.

Oh and the other thing I've been filling my time with more this week, is friend time. I saw something like four different friends this week, which has been a big increase from what it's been. Although I suppose the start of school has made a lot of people busier, etc. And we're still trying to figure out some routine and trying not to use any one group of people too, too often because I worry that people are just going to get sick of helping me or something, because that's how I think, even though I know I shouldn't. Anyway, seeing friends a bit more has been quite nice. As part of that, I've gotten a little swim in, twice this week, and it's been awhile, so it's been a nice change. I still haven't run since my one run (last week was it?), but maybe I'll get another in this weekend.

We have a lovely bbq planned in our neighborhood on Sunday, which I'm pretty excited about. It's always a nice event, and although it is supposed to be a bit cooler this weekend, I'm hoping the weather holds out enough for it. We've seen neighbors at the bus stops and around and such, but it's not like we talk to people all too often. So this should be nice.

So I know I mentioned how I'm "doing better" than I was, and it's weird. Because of my memory problems, I tend not to always believe that, especially when I do fall into a tougher state or whatever. This morning, with Nasser, I was a little bit triggered, but it wasn't, like, devastatingly triggered like I used to be, and I still recovered rather easily. Nasser can see the difference, rather easily, but I don't, oftentimes. He reminds me, though, which helps, a lot. He was reminding me this morning, how the recoveries I've made the past several times would never have happened before. This is all pretty new, really, since ECT. And that's huge. I can hardly remember the bit of triggering I had this morning, now. I feel good, after having met up with a friend, gone swimming, had plenty of coffee and talked to my brother-in-law a bit, watched my show, done some blogging. And hopefully, of course, this mood continues. But then again, I guess I am recovering much more easily than I used to. And that is really, really huge.

Alright, I am done for today, haha, partially because I want to watch another episode! Have a good weekend, all, and a good start to the fall season.

but see how the wind it blows, all the birds scatter and I’m out here alone

Sunday, 11/27/16, 12:28pm

Today is one of those slipping at the edge of a deep dark hole kinda days. One where every once in a while I feel like I'm sitting there, with my butt just barely on the edge but enough to rest. And then it feels like I slip again, with Nasser or a friend reaches down to hold one of my limbs and helps me climb back up.

I think being out of reality in Steamboat Springs this past week has been wonderful but also, well, out of reality. I pushed away the depression and anxiety when it hit, I guess until now. Yesterday was my birthday, Thursday was Adam's. They were ok days in fact, all things considered. Better than I expected at least. Maybe all those feelings were just delayed until today.

I happened to glance at the subject line of a Quora Digest from yesterday, entitled "What is the loneliest thing in the world?". I have not yet looked at the answers, right now I cannot. But I can start formulating my own answer.

I would venture to say, as one who suffers from depression and anxiety, that the deepest, darkest feelings of depression is the loneliest thing in the world. That state, that one that breeds those darkest feelings of despair, is so lonely, that you are incapable of seeing those parts of your life that are not lonely. When I am starting to feel despair about my life, I think that everyone around me is judging and hating me and would rather I not exist. That's a big part of what breeds the suicidal thoughts.

To me, yes, a state of life and love and health and companionship and community and many other wonderful things often prevent people from feeling lonely. However, the state of depression will typically remove the ability to see the good. To see what's all really wonderful and what's to be thankful for. The state of depression makes it all lonely.

And then there's the stigma. I know, I know, here I am talking about the stigma again. But. I do believe that the stigma prevents us sufferers from sharing with eachother oftentimes. I write this blog, and I know, from people sharing with me once in a while about their own struggles, that I am not alone. But depression still feels very lonely. I don't feel much more able to reach out for help or support usually, other than to blog or to send a vague text to a friend. Of course, I reach out to Nasser all the time, since he sees my depression regularly and is really the only person in the world who really, truly gets what my struggle is. He sees it day in and day out and knows about every single depressive breakdown, even if he only finds out into the recovery. I don't know what I would do without him.

Today I'm writing, but I don't feel all the warm and fuzzies about the blog as I usually do. Today I feel like a failure and that totally and completely extends to my feelings about my blog. It also feels like a failure and a waste and perhaps something to just scrap. I do feel that way about my blog sometimes, when I'm feeling really bad or I've had another vulnerability hangover; I feel like I should delete its existence. There is too much awful stuff about me for others to read and know. How can I let that exist and be available? I don't know and I'm often not sure I will forever. Sometimes it is just too painful to share.

I will leave with some non-depressive thoughts. I have some pictures from the week. My constant pajama-wearing kiddos played some card games, also enjoyed being kids with eachother, also tried some fun new activity mats, and learned how to better use chopsticks.

More games pictures. :)

Believe it or not, we made it onto the slopes for a bit on Friday. It was not too successful and we made it down one long run, switching between green and blue difficulty, but the boys (and we) were super grumpy by the end. Some newish snow on top of packed icy stuff was not great and some sections were a bit too steep for the boys as it was the first run of the season. I have no photographic proof of this skiing adventure since we were all way too grumpy.

Nasser made me a mocha and yummy breakfast for my birthday yesterday morning...

And here's our best family photo from Thanksgiving, all. Love to everyone.

I will lay me down in a bunker underground

Saturday, 11/05/16, 10:44am

Well I feel like I've already got two failures for today. I was planning on attending this extra choir rehearsal this morning, and I think I had this vague plan on biking there. But this morning, while making pumpkin pancakes (because I also went and made that great suggestion last night. Delicious, but what was I thinking?), I finally started to think through the logistics and at that point I wouldn't have enough time to be able to get the bike ride in.

And although I was super bummed and stressed about not having the time to bike, I really tried to make it work to get myself to the rehearsal. I took my shower, fighting tears, got dressed and even made it into the car and down the street a little. But the tears were coming too strongly by then. And I turned around and sat in the driveway for awhile, even called Nasser to ask him to join me.

No choir today, no bike ride today. Maybe yoga soon. Sigh.

I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure.

I do make mistakes, and sometimes my anxiety and depression do get the better of me and plans change. That does not make me a bad person. That does not make me a failure.

And yet, there's that crushing feeling of failure everytime the depression hits. The feeling of "I let this happen to me". Why do I put such ridiculous stigma upon myself?? It's not like people "let" themselves get cancer, or "let" themselves have a seizure or migraine or whatever. These things happen to people and mental illness should also fall into the same category.

I'm doing a few things from my list to try and recover. Blogging, clearly, some deep breathing, next is yoga. I already took a shower in the midst of the breakdown, but maybe even more is needed. And maybe I still won't quite recover.

This one was bad. Like when Nasser was talking me down, I told him I couldn't go to choir because I didn't feel safe enough to drive. Then of course, even if he had driven me, I didn't feel well enough to be around other people.

It's gonna be OK. I can get through this. Maybe for a small recovery today.

I feel the wind a blowin’, slowly changing time

Thursday, 10/20/16, 12:06pm

Uggg, I suppose I'm doing "better" today and yesterday, at least in comparison with Tuesday. But not fantastic, not amazing, not great, barely ok actually. Getting through therapy yesterday, with Nasser there, wasn't super easy. He went in hoping to get some ideas on how to support me better, and I felt like the main conclusion was just, Alisa needs to do a better job on her own, without relying so heavily on Nasser. I think Nasser did get some ideas, but they tend to focus on giving me more "power over my recovery" or something like that.

I feel like I'm just constantly faced with the conclusion that I'm not doing a good enough job in fighting the depression, and that just further demoralizes me and then makes the depression worse. And I continue to just do a worse and worse job at fighting it. God, I suck at life, don't I?

Let's try not to go there though. It's way too easy to cycle downward with those thoughts.

One of the things we talked about was making a really good list of like 10 things I can do when I'm in a hole. I suppose I've done exercises like this before, but these lists get buried in notebooks, or on handouts from therapists or my phone somewhere (maybe in one of those note apps I've attempted?) and don't end up being too comprehensive. Let's start with listing here for today. It might get added to my decorative mirror with the affirmations, and maybe also on an index card to carry in my purse at all times.

Things to help me when I'm down:

• Blog
• Go for a run or bike ride
• Deep breathe
• Yoga
• Meditation
• Go for a walk
• Distract myself with a show/movie
• Journal
• Take a bath
• Read a book
• Look at pretty pictures of the world and nature/ watch Planet Earth
• Take a shower
• Practice mindfulness

The list may change and get added to, but I feel it's a good start. That's more than 10 anyway. I could put on there "talk to a support person", but that one is tough. It's probably a good thing but I'm trying to balance it between "seeking help"/"feeling the guilt&shame of seeking help"/"trying to accept that seeking help is ok and not something to be ashamed of". And I need to learn to rely on myself more, to trust myself more, to believe in myself more.

TK is begging me to go outside so I'm just going to finish up with some pretty fall colors pictures I've been attempting lately. If I get some good enough ones, I want to do some photos to canvases sometime. Not sure I've captured quite what I want yet. Although we're really running out of those fall colors now!

all I really want is some comfort, a way to get my hands untied

Tuesday, 09/06/16, 9:31am

I don't really want to blog right now. I'm not in the mood for it, but I feel the need to somehow.

The main reason I need to blog, is I found a NAMI blog post, shared on facebook, that really resonated with me. The author writes about "smiling depression", which
 
involves appearing happy to others and smiling through the pain, keeping the inner turmoil hidden. It’s a major depressive disorder with atypical symptoms, and as a result, many don’t know they’re depressed or don’t seek help. People with smiling depression are often partnered or married, employed and are quite accomplished and educated. Their public, professional and social lives are not struggling. Their façade is put together and accomplished. 

But behind the mask and behind closed doors, their minds are filled with thoughts of worthlessness, inadequacy and despair. They’ve usually struggled with depression and/or debilitating anxiety for years and have had some experience with therapy or medication. Many don’t disclose their depression due to fear of discrimination from loved ones or employers. “Oftentimes, I am the only person in this individual’s immediate circle who is aware of how he or she is feeling on the inside,” said Dina Goldstein Silverman, Ph.D., a licensed psychologist and assistant professor of psychiatry."

The entire blog post is worth the read, but this is important because Silverman says "there's a troubling connection between smiling depression and suicide."

I wouldn't really say that I suffer from "smiling depression", anymore, because I've become so open about my depression with others, but maybe I still do to some extent. In person, I will talk about my depression more often than I used to, but oftentimes I will hide it with others, if I'm feeling those feelings and I'm forced into a social situation. This can happen when we travel with others, for ski vacations, camping, family trips, visiting friends or family. If I'm constantly around other people for a weekend for example, I will typically have at least one depressive breakdown, maybe a half hour to a couple hour event usually taking place while hiding with Nasser in the privacy of our bedroom, and then "recover" enough to go be social and happy with the others. I won't usually discuss what happened, even though others may know I've been crying by looking into my eyes. Really I bottle those feelings up for the moment. And it forces me into some resemblance of "recovery", only I don't think it really makes me any better in the long run.

I've been backing out on social engagements more lately, and I think it comes across as "doing badly" or I have "worsened depression". But I don't think that's what it is. Since being more open with my depression in the blog, and as well as on facebook recently, I feel more authentic. And honestly, I'm less interested in being social right after a depressive breakdown because I don't know how yet to be truly authentic (and emotionally safe) with everyone I know when I'm in that state. How can I know that really? We shame "bad feelings" or "moods" so much, that we instinctively hide it when we're around others. Or at least I do. And I'm not interested as much in pretending to be "better" when it's just a façade and a temporary recovery. I do it, still, plenty often, but I'm learning to be more authentic with those I trust. I will talk about my depression and share about my most recent depressive breakdown at a party or family get-together, because I'm trying to be authentic.

It's been hard for me to know how to respond lately when people ask "how are you doing?". When it's someone I don't know, like at the grocery store, I still say "fine, how are you?" or something along those lines. But when it's someone I know, and I assume now that they know I have depression and they may or may not read my blog, I want to be more authentic. And no, actually I'm not really fine. I haven't been "fine" in a long, long time. Like truly fine, like consistently fine. Maybe it's only been since Adam's death, or maybe it's been since my depression really manifested 8.5ish years ago.

And we continue to work on it, as we've done since I first started treatment. I've been on several different medications and am now working on a new one, I've been doing therapy consistently for a long time, I've read (some) books and many articles on ways to help depression, I've blogged, I've discussed it at length with friends and family, I've cut out alcohol to very rare occasions, I've been working on affirmations, I practice mindfulness and I recognize the important of exercise and eating right on my overall health. I have put and continue to put so much effect into "not being depressed".

And I still. get. depressed.

I think that will always be the case, but all I can do is to continue doing the things I do. I continue to try to be better, to limit the depression as much as possible, and to cut myself slack when it hits or when I'm going through tough things like changing medications.

And it's ok. I will always continue working on the things that are shown to help, I will continue trying new things (even if I'm slow to start them, because there are still emotional hurdles to overcome with these), and I will continue to seek the support of others and try not to feel guilty over it.

We're going to end this post with some affirmations now.

I am strong. I am loving. I am capable. I am compassionate. I am brave. I am loved. I am nurturing. I am supported.

I am absolutely NOT a failure.

I dare greatly, at least sometimes.

And I continue.

if you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting, time after time

Monday, 08/29/16, 3:14pm (It is pi time. I am such a nerd), 4:15pm

Things have been hard. Yesterday was a long and difficult day, and so far, today hasn't been without struggle. It's like I'm continuously, mentally fighting these thoughts that pop into my head throughout the day. Thoughts that I was too scared to voice aloud in therapy this morning. Thoughts that I know are not a representation of how I truly feel or who I truly am, and yet they appeared in my head, without warning. This has been going on for several days.

And I know that I'm especially worse because I'm switching medications. I'm in the weaning process of the old anti-depressant while I have simultaneously started up the new one. There can be side effects to being on 2 anti-depressants at the same time, and I theoretically should be having some dependence type symptoms from weaning the first. Oh and from what I know about anti-depressants, they can take up to 4-6 weeks to kick in. Can be earlier, so we will hope for that.

My therapist told me to view it like I got a really bad case of strep throat, one that resisted the first round of antibiotics and just takes weeks to get better. I would have to cut myself more slack. In the same way, with however long this medication change takes, I have to cut myself slack. I should be resting more, doing things for myself to help make things better. I shouldn't feel guilty or shameful because right now I need to do that.

I created an "affirmation wall" on our bathroom mirror earlier today, as a suggestion from therapy. I'm really happy with the outcome.

(So sometimes "doing things for myself" is not worrying about kids playing Minecraft during their playdate while I blog in my bedroom, and listen to the Minecraft background theme over and over while the boys chatter about what they're building, etc).

I'm sick of setting myself up for failure with the expectations I put on myself, especially around my depression and its treatment. I can't expect for the treatment to be fail safe, ever, I can't expect to never have bad days, and I can't expect for changes in my treatment to lead to immediate recovery.

It's pouring rain outside right now, which is just perfect, to me. It makes me feel less guilty about kids playing video games just a few minutes longer, and it sounds and feels like all my emotions can temporarily be represented by the weather.

We're going to end with some happy pictures (not that the rain picture isn't happy- for me it is). The boys and I enjoyed the hammock a bunch yesterday and took some goofy shots.

think about direction, wonder why you haven't before

Thursday, 08/04/16, 10:33am

I am doing better today. Yesterday, although it went mostly well, was still more of a recovery day. Sometimes my episodes can require a full day to really recover.

I've kinda mentioned it before, but my treatment needs some work. I am going to therapy much more often than I had been. I'd really been pushing the time between appointments, some based on travel, some based on expense because our health insurance changed significantly this past year, some based on "I felt that I should be". I do this with therapy appointments and psychiatric appointments and it's not entirely a conscious choice that I make. It almost happens automatically. But now I'm consciously trying to stop that and making the therapy appointments at least weekly.

I've mentioned before, but I've started tracking my mood. Yesterday after discussing some ideas with my therapist and my sister, I created a Google Form for myself. It's a quick series of questions to gauge my mood as well as gather data on the circumstances (menstrual cycle, medications, exercise, etc). I can input a response on the form as often as I'd like, but this time, I'm not going to look at the data until I have a good amount of it. Looking at the tracker app on my phone has made me feel even more down, just seeing what feels like often low points.

I'm such a nerd. But I'm totally in love with this idea of tracking, gathering hard data with my illness to help improve my treatment.

Nasser has been researching the various medications out there for treating depression and anxiety, ongoing clinical trials, understanding more about "treatment resistant depression" and wondering if I have that. Because I've truly been wondering, am I really that different when I'm not on medication? Now, you may point out, I had a bit of a depression rut earlier this summer when I missed a third of one of my medications for about a week or so. But there were other things going on which may or may not have played a part as well.

I think that I probably need to be on medication, but I'm definitely wondering whether or not I'm on the right ones.

Let's talk about periods for a second. Skip the last paragraph if you can't handle it, although if you can't handle it, I'd invite you to push yourself out of that comfort zone and try to normalize menstrual cycles a little more. If you haven't read my rant on that, see here.

So the latest on my quest for hormone balance through my menstrual cycle is I'm on a high estrogen, some progesterone birth control pill (the second pill I'm trying), and so far, my body doesn't seem to want to follow the regulated cycle. What does that mean? I don't get my period when I'm supposed to on this pill. It's supposed to be during the placebo week, the last week of the pack. Mine comes a good week early, and it's lasting longer than my period used to without a pill. Sigh. I've decided to stay on this pill for a full 3 months to see if my body will take to it, but if it doesn't, I'm thinking of giving up this quest of finding the right birth control pill. Unless I find the right doctor to support me there. Seems like it might be difficult to find an ob/gyn who would be willing to work closely with me and my psychiatrist to figure out the right hormones for me.

bright morning stars are rising, day is a breaking in my soul

Friday, 03/11/16, 1:03pm

I'm getting there. It's been a tough week and it's not really over, but I'm getting there. This is probably one of my longest stretches of episode + lots of mini episodes through the recovery. There's that word recovery again. Remember my rant about "being in recovery" and how it doesn't really apply to me? I guess it does to some extent. But with chronic depression, it keeps coming back over and over and over again. Such is my life though. It's all about appreciating those in between times of recovery. And working on techniques, etc to reduce the severity and frequency of the episodes.

Yesterday one thing that helped was I did some baking. I had volunteered to make something to sell at our choir concerts this weekend so I kinda had to do it. It was really a good thing to do yesterday. Baking, for me, can be therapeutic. I enjoy it, I usually take part in the raw tastings (YUMMY but yeah, I do risks the whole salmonella thing), and it's something I did, with family or friends, growing up that makes it a kind of comfort activity. It helped that I wasn't pressed for time yesterday. TK even helped me add ingredients to the mixer. Yesterday, I kinda needed that messy beater all to myself though, once he was off playing and I could enjoy it without him asking me why I was eating it all.

I have to point out in the above picture, dark spot in bottom left corner is Buddy the cat. See below for better view. :)

And of course I had to get a picture of just him. Crazy hypnotizing eyes, no? That wound above his right eye is looking so much better from when we got him, I think you can hardly tell now.

Things have been going much better with Buddy now. My boys love to play with him, feed him, give him treats, pet him, talk to him, say goodbye to him when we leave the house, and say goodnight to him when they're going to bed. He feels part of the family now. We've been keeping him in the laundry room at night for the past week-ish due to some relapsing of the ummm... litter box situation. Improving and will probably stop the nighttime solitary soon, whenever I feel ready to risk it again. Not this weekend. This weekend is way to busy and hectic.

I'm slightly terrified of this weekend. It's going to be fine, it's going to be good, but it's risky for my ability to not have a relapse on my episode and ruin the weekend. My mother-in-law is likely coming into town today, I say likely because she's flying stand-by (her husband is a pilot, pretty cool, no?) and flights were looking questionable. Having her in town will be good, and the kids adore her, but I still don't like getting depressed in front of anyone besides Nasser. And there is the issue of me blogging right now instead of getting the futon bed ready and finding clean towels. It'll get done, maybe a bit later, but I'm trying not to worry about that. But then this weekend is my choir concerts. I have one tonight and one Sunday afternoon. So that's a huge chunk out of the weekend right there. And, again, here I am blogging instead of reviewing the spots in my music where I feel shaky. Sigh, and yet I can't tear myself away from the blog because it feels so therapeutic today. And I need that too, perhaps more importantly.

After a read-through of the above, I will finally take a shower so we can get RG from the bus stop and get going on all the stuff I need to get done. Let's do this weekend.