It used to be that whenever I bought something electronic, I had to beat the salesperson and their extended warranty off with a stick. These days, I actually ASK for the extended warranty. I ordered this Nikon from our local Staples (12 mp with 7x optical zoom!), and got the two year extended warranty. The reason I did that was because the last camera bit the dust after only eight months. The guy at the store said the whirring, lens jammed thing was so common with digital cameras that most manufacturers won’t cover it themselves. So I basically paid an extra fifty dollars so it would last two years instead taking the chance I’d only have it for a few months.

So I’m excited that I’ll be back to taking pictures again. I’m not sure why, since I spent hours today on my Flickr account downloading photos to have made into a photo book on Snapfish. There are 1500 family photos on there, and it is really overwhelming. The idea of actually editing the photos and then arranging them in a digital book with cute quotes and stories gives me a headache. It’s my duty though. It’s either that, or opt for the easy print order through Flickr and then just throw them in a book from Wal-mart. It seems like that would be a shame, given that the other option is readily available. Sometimes I think we have too many options…

The drug situation remains in limbo. I started Zoloft, and had a few wonderful days of churning out hundreds of dollars worth of articles. I quit again because I got so hyper that midday, I would literally almost collapse and had to leave work twice. Now I don’t feel like writing that crap, and GET why people take Ritalin to study boring subjects. I’ve taken a break from trying to quit Ativan, I’m just trying to maintain the amount I’ve gotten down to, which only seems to be possible with exercise. I lost my groove for a while after I got a cold, and it felt like I was going to come out of my skin. And it’s been months now!!! Jeez this stuff is addictive.

I’m reading a delightful book called Trainwreck: My Life As an Idoit, and it is a hilarious first person account of growing up with learning disabilities and a drug problem. I see many of my students in this story. I also see a bit of myself. The guy describes doing an insane amount of Ecstasy and then basically having a dopamine deficiency the rest of his life. I have to wonder if prescribed antidepressants have the same effect in the long run, seriously. Sometimes it feels like it.

At any rate, I think anyone who works with people with learning disabilities should read this book. Besides the pure entertainment value, it really does give you a peek into how people with reading difficulties and ADHD may perceive things, and perhaps provides a dose of empathy at the same time. All that is below the surface, though. The main thing is that the book is just freakin’ hilarious.

And because I worry about stuff like this, yes, I misspelled idiot on purpose.

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I just finished reading Margaret Atwood’s The Year of the Flood, which was apocalyptic and predictably chilling. But that’s only because she’s so good. I only hope that she’s not as good as Orwell in her predictions. I now want to go back and reread Oryx and Crake because that book was delightful in an absolutely undelightful way.

I’ve been reading up on the neurotransmitters. One thing I’ve learned is that I definitely have too much norepinephrine activated in my system at any given time. I’m learning some ways to control this, all of which involve some version of chilling out, whether it’s yoga, meditation, listening to the Drone Zone on SomaFM, or something else equally boring calming.

It seems that if I’m ever going to get a grip on the anxiety, I’m going to have to change my personality. Like a adrenaline addict, I amp myself up all the time, and have a good time doing it. I love feeling excited. Of course, I don’t like it when it all overflows and I go over the edge. So to not have that happen, I’d either have to have my brain chemistry changed, or deliberately become one of those calm, contemplative people…which goes entirely against my hyper, neurotic nature.

Sage and I did yoga today. Amazingly, it actually did make me feel calmer. It also managed to make muscles in my back that I had been previously unaware of hurt, a lot. Sage is better at it than me, and made sure that I noticed.

Anyway, how do I put a lid on “excited”? I just love that emotion so much! What’s your favorite emotion? And does bombing the moon bother anyone else?

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I am catastrophizing again. I’ve promised my therapist that I will make a note of these thinking errors.

The thing I am currently being confronted with is Sage not doing well in school. I think that his teachers don’t like him. I may be right. For the past two years, none of his teachers have said anything remotely positive. At the same time, he is a kind, respectful child who tries hard. I don’t know that his teachers see all of this.

When an adult talks to him, he may look away, or say “I know” (a reflex caused by being worried about being thought stupid) or simply stare blankly because he doesn’t get what they are saying, and doesn’t want to ask for clarification because of the “stupid” thing.

I really want to homeschool Sage. I am so worried about negative peer relationships (he’s been invited to one birthday party the entire four years we’ve lived here) and him not understanding academic material because of memory issues and auditory comprehension difficulties.

He is one of five in his class who doesn’t get to watch the reward movie on Friday because he got one too many numbers this six weeks. Numbers are for things like forgetting one’s agenda, talking in line and the like. His class has some holy terrors in it. I can’t believe that my child is one of five. I would think it would be the entire class, more or less, who is not getting to watch the movie. I spoke with his teacher, and she is entirely unsympathetic. I try to advocate for Sage, and the school ignores me. I’m going to have to go all BITCH on them and I’m afraid it won’t work anyway.

I am afraid that the teachers are not treating my child fairly. I know from working at my own school that some teachers really don’t like “Aspy” kids.

I am afraid to quit my job and homeschool. I’m afraid that I’ll go nuts in the house. I’m afraid of not having insurance, and of my writing job going kaput, as they often do. I’m afraid I’m not doing the right thing.

I love Sage so darn much. It hurts SOOO bad to see him try so hard, try to put a good face on things and then be so disappointed with the C’s from failed reading comprehension tests that he can’t study for at home and so on.

He hates school.

I am so worried. No surprise I am having problems with anxiety right now…there’s just too much fear.

I wish this was a little thing that I could minimize. I don’t think it is, though.

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I got inspired yesterday by a post I read about heroes and English class. It made me think about how an alternative program such as the one I teach in would benefit greatly from an English class that focuses on heroes. So I’m ordering Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces and we’ll see where it goes from there. I also ordered another book, The Latino Education Crisis: The Consequences of Failed Social Policies because it looks like really interesting reading. Right now, I do see those consequences…I suppose my hope is that there will be some proposed solutions. And for fun, The Year of the Flood: A Novel by Margaret Atwood. I feel really decadent ordering that one, because I never spend money on “recreational” books.

I’m really thrilled that our district will be using the FastForWord product, as I had literally just called the company about using it at home for Sage. The price is several hundred dollars a month, but I was ready to pay it. Then my principal asked me to be the campus coach for our new reading program which is…you guessed it…FastForWord! So now I get to be trained on it and my kiddo will get to use it. Yea!

One thing I’m not thrilled about is that the kid who hit me in the neck a year ago last May is back at my school. He is not in my exact program…yet, but his behavior has been horrible, and he is working his way there. NO WAY will he be in my classroom. Frankly, I can’t stand it that he’s on the same campus. This is a kid who ripped the phone out of the wall when my old principal tried to use it, threw it across the room, attacked three staff members and generally tore up the office. A recent article about a teacher being killed by an emotionally disturbed student in a neighboring town has everyone a bit on edge when dealing with these particular students.

I’m afraid to write too much about this…but, someone at the local university hinted that they’d like to “steal” me for an position there. If that happened, I could get my doctorate for free (I think)… I’m trying not to think too much about it, because I don’t want to be disappointed if that position is not created. Anyway.

Bad news on the homefront. Greg’s kitty, Gordon, has about ten percent of her kidney function. We have no idea how long she’ll live, although she seems to be doing much better now. This makes me sad, since she’s no longer the feral little beast she was when he got her…now she’s my little “Gordita.” When Greg took her to the vet, he told them that he had changed her name to “Wood Stove” since her treatment had eaten up our original savings for that item. They didn’t get the joke and literally changed the name in their computer, which was a real hoot. The whole thing that is going on isn’t a hoot at all, but it is what it is.

I’ll be doing the freelance thing again all weekend. We’re only two hundred dollars away from getting a wood burning fireplace insert. Warmth will be good this winter.

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I got a lot done today, and the day is not over yet! I’ve done the grocery shopping, all of the laundry, cleaned the kitchen and made a hundred bucks writing articles. Hopefully that money will go towards something we need and not vet bills this time. We also went for a little walk on the trail with the dogs, which was fun. Today it was in the eighties and sunny…nice!

I usually don’t go on the trail because I feel trapped (you can’t get off of it whenever you want, you have to just keep walking!) but I decided that it was too nice of a day to go to the gym instead of being outside. Thankfully, I managed to have fun and not feel the usual trapped crazy feeling. I think it might be because I decided that I can’t just give into those irrational feelings, at least not today! That, and it’s simply easier to walk longer distances since I’ve been going to the gym and have lost some weight. Anyway, it was sooo beautiful.

I begged off a last minute birthday party for Sage’s cousin. My sister-in-law is a piece of work. Words are useless here. Suffice it to say that she gossips viciously about everybody, and when I saw her at the community pool this summer, she pretended like she didn’t even see me, even though our kids were playing together. She has taught her daughter some atrocious things. I was appalled when that formerly sweet middle school student told me that she believed she was better than the girls who DIDN’T have a collection of Coach and Kate Spade purses. Whatever! I called her out on it, even though we were at a family dinner. I didn’t say a tenth of what I wanted to, though! Anyway, I guess I did have some words about my sister-in-law. The evil one, that is. The new one is a real sweetie-pie.

I can’t believe I’m still writing at this point. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t nubs!

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I have been agonizing over this decision. Agonizing. I took a bit of Zoloft today with the idea of getting back on it AGAIN.

Here’s what happened. I got off of it in May, largely because I was feeling so great. In June, I enjoyed a period of being fairly manic and especially creative. I spent July and part of August crying. I got over that, and had a couple of good weeks, that I am very confused by. Because now, things are just getting worse. One thing is that I have little motivation to go to work. I know why. My unmedicated self is very bored by my job much of the time. At an alternative school, it’s very GOOD when there’s not excitement, but I’m not a one-on-one type of teacher, and unless we’re crowded, I don’t get to teach groups. I called in sick today out of boredom. I have a cold, too, but the reality is that a cold wouldn’t ordinarily slow me down like this.

The other thing is the anxiety. I don’t think I can blame all of it on cutting down on Ativan a bit. That would make me anxious, but I don’t think it would bring all of these dark thoughts into my head. Like, I was at JC Penny trying on some clothes in a locked dressing room and had this thought that I could die in there and they wouldn’t realize it until that evening. That sort of thing. I turn my life into a horror novel with these thoughts, which seem to come out of nowhere. I don’t have them near as often with the Zoloft.

I also have this social anxiety I didn’t have before. I wasn’t always very social, but I wasn’t having panic attacks just thinking about being social, either. I also feel afraid to be alone, which is a HUGE change, because normally, I love alone time.

I also get this paralyzing anxiety out of nowhere. It is truly awful.

The thing that really pisses me off is that I didn’t have the social anxiety thing, and the alone thing before I started the Zoloft in the first place. I had some of the dark thoughts, but not as many. I know it changed my brain to make it where I have to have it or suffer these consequences.

When I took the pill out of the bottle today, there was a new warning on the bottle that I hadn’t seen before. It said, “Use during the third semester of pregnancy may cause serious health problems or withdrawal symptoms in the newborn.”

I took 50 mg when I was pregnant with Sage. I was having panic attacks and of course, couldn’t take Xanax. He was a “difficult baby” to say the least. He could never just relax, poor guy. Then later, he was diagnosed with sensory integration disorder, which is how I feel coming off the stuff. I could beat myself up some more for taking it, but recently I read that excessive stress in the mom can literally cause the babies brain to be smaller and cause problems. So. If I had known all of this beforehand, I wouldn’t have had him. And I’m glad I had him, so I suppose I need to stop obsessing about it.

The hard thing about this is accepting that I have a disease that may not ever go away. Everyone has always told me that I’ll “get over it someday.” I just don’t know. The way the Ativan withdrawal has been going, (and probably protracted Zoloft withdrawal too), I see it being a couple of years just getting off the stuff altogether. And then some more time for my brain to adjust. The brain may be plastic, but it doesn’t mean that it will go back to the way you were before. Perhaps an approximation, that’s it.

If I could just find a balance. I want to have more memories, more dreams. I want my creativity. Pacian commented that creative people often have stuff like this or worse. I’m angry. Why do I have to pay the price of crippling anxiety or being dulled by medication? I don’t like my choices here.

I can’t stand the idea of being physically addicted to anything. So I’m still hoping that even if I get back on the Zoloft, I can quit the Ativan, or at least take much less of it, the Zoloft being the lesser of two evils.

It bums me out that exercise, an exemplary diet and bucketloads of supplements aren’t making me “normal.”

Okay. Pity party over for now. I know I’m going to struggle with this though. I need to concentrate on being thankful for what I have.

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1. School is going well. I now have six students, all of whom are fairly well-behaved. There are days when I can’t believe I get paid for this. I’m sure I’ll look back on this post and laugh at some point, although I hope not. Seriously, there were more “bad” kids when I tried to control too much and didn’t go with what turned out to be a natural flow that works for my class.

2. Sage’s teacher called me today about some homework he didn’t turn in. The homework was written in his agenda as “link study” and he didn’t remember what it meant. The teacher suggested he was “playing me” and focused on his lie to her that he hadn’t had time to do the work. I know that he was embarrassed to tell her that he didn’t remember the name of the homework and what it meant. He is at that age where saving face is really important. I could tell she thought I was making excuses for him, which pissed me off. She’s not at my house, where I have a child who after school, plays raquetball for an hour, comes home, walks the dogs, practices piano, does his homework, eats dinner, cleans the table, maybe has some free time, reads for half an hour, takes a bath and goes to bed. Without complaining, which is more than I can say for myself in fifth grade AND now.

3. Three years ago, one of Greg’s friends dropped a stray cat off at his house. This cat, Gordon (a girl), has pretty much been feral until about six months ago. Recently, she got sick and Greg took her to the vet. They did about one billion tests, diagnosed her with kidney failure, gave her fluids for one night, released her and charged us over $500. We need to change her name to “heater”, because that’s what that money was set aside for. I’d like to send part of the bill to the friend who dropped off the cat. People don’t realize how expensive animals are, or perhaps they do, and that’s why they didn’t keep her themselves!

4. I’ve got another freelance writing gig. It should bring in another $600+ a month, which should enable us to fix some things up around here. I also need a new car pretty soon. The minivan is getting a bit hoopty.
5. I’m stuck at 3.5 as far as the whole pill withdrawal thing goes. I’m still feeling it, and every time I try to decrease this crap anymore, I feel really bad. I’m pretty frustrated with it, but trying to be patient and hoping that I’ll feel “normal” on this amount at some point so I can manage to decrease it again.

6. I’ve been exercising like crazy, and it is finally showing. My old rings fit, and I feel more energetic. I have less general anxiety, too, which is nice. There is a HUGE difference between exercising for half an hour two or three times a week, and exercising for an hour six times a week. I’ve hit a new low on the scale and that feels great.

7. I’ve been reading this really fascinating book, The Brain that Changes Itself, which is all about brain plasticity. One of the things I’ve learned is that it’s more difficult to unlearn things than to learn them, which definitely applies to an anxiety disorder. Another interesting thing is how if you learn a language as an adult, you will “lift up” some other skills that are located in the same region of the brain. I guess some of this is old hat, as the book is a couple of years old, but I’m hoping it has some answers. I really feel as though the meds I’ve taken have given me some cognitive impairment, and I am being serious. So, time to learn Arabic! When, I don’t know…

I’ve found that playing guitar during a panic attack will pretty much turn it off. I think that’s because it must be impossible to play different things with each hand, sing and read all at the same time and still have room in my brain for anxious thoughts. It has gotten to the point where if I feel panicky, Greg will offer to bring my guitar.

I’ve been thinking a lot about meds and emotions. When I was taking Zoloft (which I quit in May), I had much less social anxiety, and less anxiety in general. Looking back, I realize that if I had been taking it, I would have made it to my brother’s wedding. Bad timing on quitting, I suppose. My new doctor (who is not pressuring me about the benzos) wants me to get back on it.

The thing is, I FEEL things so much more when I’m not on it. I have this love for my family that is just amazing, and I feel more creative. I care about thinking more complex thoughts and taking on more challenges. I’m not content to just coast along.

I suppose I’m going to keep on with the exercise, guitar, and healthy diet and keep praying that I snap out of this anti-social thing and get a grip on the anxiety. I may try some hormones too. I researched estrogen dominance for an article I was writing and learned that it can absolutely cause panic attacks. I know I am estrogen dominant, so I think I’ll finally be taking my mom’s advice on the hormone thing and getting some progesterone cream.

This was really a meandering post…

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My camera makes a grumbly whirring sound when I turn it on. Then it tries to start, makes some more crumbly grumbly noises and shuts itself off. So. No photos for a while. Greg and I are pooling our money to buy a wood stove so that we aren’t all freezing in one room this winter while still paying a $400 electric bill like we did last winter. We’re aiming to buy one that is made in the US. Hopefully, that will be affordable.

Not that I ever really made a, um, habit of this, but I’ll think twice before ever again casually saying, “Yeah, and his mom’s a drug addict.” I’m getting the whole addiction thing, really getting it. It’s not cool. I’ve had about fifteen unpleasant side effects so far, including my arm going numb today, causing me not to be able to complete a credit card transaction without dropping the pen twice and feeling disembodied, somehow.

I saw a therapist, who made me an appointment with a doctor who is supposed to know what they’re doing. It occurred to me that if I hadn’t been honest with the first one, saying that I wanted off this stuff, that I wouldn’t be in this particular fix. I could have just picked up my prescription and tapered off on my own. Stupid.

Sage has been playing racquetball like a fiend everyday after work with his friend while I do the treadmill. I see him getting a lot more energy. I wasn’t able to eat solid food for about a week, thanks to the withdrawal crap, so I have become the smoothie queen. I realized after about five days that I was eating a raw food diet, which was funny, because Emma had just mentioned it to me a couple of weeks ago.

Recipe: One cup blackberries, peaches, blueberries or any combination thereof. One cup almond or soy milk, unsweetened. One to two tablespoons raw nut butter. One packet Stevia. Blend. It tastes like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the bread. So delicious, and kept me going this week. My skin is very clear, and I’m dropping weight.

I heard a story about one of my students from last year today. He’s a smart kid who, classically, doesn’t work to potential. Story goes his uncle told him he’d beat the snot out of him if he ever brought home another A. He comes from this redneck family that he doesn’t fit into, so I can see that being true, unfortunately. It’s one of those truth is stranger than fiction things if true. Right now, he’s in the Texas Youth Commission (TYC) because he got in another fight and hit a teacher. He told me on the last day of school that he knew he would be locked up.

I am wondering how to make enough time in the day for Sage to have free time. He has so much going on. We go to the gym after school, then come home, he walks the dogs, practices piano, does his homework and reads for half an hour. By that time, he doesn’t have time to really unwind. The gym is pretty much the closest thing to free time that he has. I’m wondering how this is all going to shake down when he’s in band next year. I hate to see him drop the piano, because he’s really good at it. Oh, and I forgot to mention Boy Scouts. We don’t even play sports…those people must have particularly crazy lives! He is not complaining about it though, and he is working very hard. I’m so proud of him.

Mornings are funny at our house. I get undressed and get on the scale before drinking an ounce, hoping I’ve lost weight. Greg drinks his coffee, gets dressed and puts on his boots, and THEN gets on the scale, hoping he’s gained. Really, I wish you could donate fat just like blood. That would be so cool. Not that Greg needs my fat, he’s perfect just the way he is.

But can you imagine? Fat donation? It would put the Red Cross to shame, you know it would.

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I just went on a Cowboy Junkies binge, no pun intended. I was singing Working on a Building at the top of my lungs, and then ended up ordering five of their CDs. The good thing is that they are all old and therefore are about 75 cents on Half.com. If you’re not familiar with them, they’re a Canadian band that became popular with some folks in the late eighties. Their remake of Lou Reed’s Sweet Jane is what did it.

Their music is like Valium, which is a very good thing right now.

I’ve also been on a Ron Rash kick lately. His book, One Foot in Eden is a smooth, poetic storytelling of Appalachian life, and it just blew me away. His other books are awesome as well. I’m not easily impressed, and have read, literally, tons of books, if that counts for anything.

His books are a bit like Valium too, I suppose, with their dreaminess and depictions of flowing rivers and such.

I’m still looking for a doctor who understands how benzo withdrawal works. It’s amazing that the people who prescribe all this crap don’t seem to know anything about it. I guess that’s a good thing, because if they prescribe it knowing what it is and can do, then I think that uncaring and irresponsible are words that are too kind for them.

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Yesterday, we wormed Wile E. In order to do this, we had to find out his weight. So I got the scale, and Greg weighed himself and then picked up Wile E. and I read the number.

I was totally horrified.

You see, the number on the scale when my husband was holding a German Shepard was one of my goal weight steps.

Ye Gads.

I’ve been taking the weight loss thing in 25 pound increments. I’ve already lost one unit of 25, now I’m working on the next one. And the number on the scale was that goal.

It really puts things in perspective. Once I meet that goal, I’ll definitely need to lose 25 MORE pounds before I can put down the German Shepard I have apparently been carrying, in fat.

On the bright side, I stepped it up a bit at the gym today. I’m not at a point where I am running or anything like that, but I can tell the difference in my fitness level. Despite my weight, I was able to walk up the hill to downtown without feeling winded at all. I hardly noticed I was doing it, which was cool.

On the not so bright side, the withdrawal thing is no fun. I had to back off a bit because I developed IBS, an overactive bladder and a whole host of other problems including waking up yelling in the night. When I looked it all up on the computer, guess what the treatment for these things is? Ativan! So apparently, you GET these things when you are quitting. So I’m hoping that going slower will help. Hopefully the doctor (who wants me to quit in a three month period) will understand.

Anyway.

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