ambien(t) noise

2009-12-30T21:48:00.000-05:00

i thought this would be an okay way to get back into blogging....

My Extremely Egocentric Year in Review

JANUARY

Spent NYE on a plane back from Colorado. Thought we had escaped the horrendous stomach virus that my baby nephew had picked up. Shared a drink and a midnight smooch with Seanie. One hour later he doesn’t feel so good. Seventeen hours later, I had it. It was a nightmare.

I lost weight, but my main man cleared me to stop nutritional counseling with him because I had done well.

FEBRUARY

I got my BFP at the beginning of the month, but as I was leaving for work on the last day before February break (and the day before my Mom and Sis would be flying in for some winter fun), surprise! Another failed pregnancy. Miscarried—just barely avoiding medical intervention--on the 25th while teaching chorus.

Did NOT use this as an excuse to go back to my symptoms. Go me.

MARCH

C.R.A.P.T.A.S.T.I.C month. I hate March. On the 17th, I turned 33, which was okay in itself, but I’m not getting any younger. Also, it was one week from the 24th, which was the would-be due date for my first pregnancy. I got through it (work and all) like a champ. The 28th was 4 years from when I lost my best friend Bobo. I got through that too.

APRIL

Survived another NYSSMA festival. Okay month I guess. Pretty quiet.

MAY

Gave a decent concert—much improved from the December one. Went through all the standard “recurrent miscarriage” testing. Found a luteal phase defect—possibly due to ED, but no way to know for sure. Possible blood clotting and/or autoimmune problem, but nothing clear. Started baby aspirin.

JUNE

Allowed to TTC again. Started Clomid. Typical, quiet month at school. I was a little sad to see the school year end, maybe because I was saying goodbye to the first group of kids I’ve had from first year through graduation.

Bought a bike and started exploring.

JULY

Felix stopped eating and started acting phobic of food. It was lymphocytic plasmacytic stomatitis; Felix was pointlessly hospitalized for a week. It did no good; he was given antibiotics and NOT given painkillers or steroids. I scoffed at him being tested for feline leukemia virus—he tested negative for it the day before we adopted him—but the test came up positive. We visited him twice a day in the hospital. We had to test Lucy for FELV. It was negative; we got her vaccines up to date. On 7/28, Felix underwent the surest treatment: removal of every single tooth.

On 7/29, Lucy goes under to have her teeth cleaned and to have a vaccine-site lump removed and biopsied.

A terrible month.

AUGUST

Felix has an incredibly rough recovery. He is eating so little that we feared fatty liver disease. I feed him every couple of hours around-the-clock and constantly check his eyes and skin for signs of jaundice. At 2-week check, he’s showing improvement. But eating is still awful.

8/16 was our 7-year wedding anniversary. We weren’t really up to celebrating.

My beloved bike gets stolen right out of my garage.

Parents visit; Felix barely eats. I worry about him the whole time. But we did go into the city to see Wicked, which was great.

Lucy’s biopsy comes back cancer-free! It’s a reaction to the rabies vaccine, which we’ll be skipping from now on.

TTC month 3 of 4 on Clomid.

SEPTEMBER

I’m not ready for school to begin: emotionally, I’m okay (unlike last year, which was right after my first miscarriage), but I just don’t have stuff done. I’m also scared for Felix and worried that I’ll have trouble handling middle-of-the-night feedings while working.

Things start to turn around for Felix. By the end of the month, I’m able to stop the middle-of-night feedings. At 4-week check, he still has some redness, so we do another short course of Predisone. We start looking into trying to get hold of Interferon-Omega from Europe, which requires some MAJOR resourcefulness.

TTC month 4 of Clomid.

OCTOBER

Cycle 4 of Clomid is a failure.

Went to a wedding in Connecticut—it was our first 12 hours away from home since Felix got sick! Because it went so well, we were able to do a 24-hour trip to a wedding in Rhode Island at the end of the month. Major progress!

October 15th is the would-be due date for my second pregnancy. A coworker’s daughter has her first child on that day.

The school year is starting to get rough. I have the roughest group of kids I’ve ever had in 7th and 8th grade chorus, and—surprise surprise—the biggest classes I’ve ever had (75-80 per class). My 75 6th graders are an absolute delight and sometimes the only thing that gets me through the day without pulling my hair out.

Felix is still hanging in there. The Prednisone worked: On 10/18, he eats dry food for the first time in months. No luck on the Interferon so far.

NOVEMBER

I survived parent conferences (beat-the-teacher night). It was pleasant, actually.

Still no luck on Interferon. We start the process of getting LTCI, which is an experimental treatment that is available in the US.

Meet with Dr. Mack to find out about “the next step.” Decide on IUI with mini-hyperstimulation. Start 150 mg of Clomid and also FSH (Gonal-F) injections.

An okay, pretty quiet month.

DECEMBER

Mini-hyperstim kind of failed—I got one large follicle instead of the 4-5 smaller ones we were hoping for. I talked Dr. out of canceling IUI, because there’s just no way I’ll get pregnant on my own. Do IUI #1 on 12/4.

The kids gave a good concert. It was the most relaxed I’ve ever felt and I didn’t lose my voice. Still, there are some seriously disturbing behavioral issues. For the first time ever, I have to think about kicking someone out of chorus.

Hired to sing at Christmas Eve services, and I find myself resenting the Virgin Mary for being so fertile.

Go out to Colorado for the first time in a year. We have a really nice visit and the trips there and back go smoothly. Kitties do GREAT for the cat sitters.

Ultrasound finds a big (4.7 cm) corpus luteum cyst on my right ovary, so I can’t do anything TTC-wise until it’s gone. Start a “rest” cycle. I’m hoping it’ll just be one cycle, but it could be up to three.

SUMMARY: The year was very bad for my eating disorder (which is a good thing) but also very bad for my biological clock and for my sweet sweet kitties. I’m ready to be done with 2009. I’m hoping for better things coming this way.

2009-03-08T20:47:00.002-04:00

So we're speeding towards that time of year
To the day that marks that you're not here
i wanted to add to my "physical recovery" update here. my bleeding gradually decreased. by thursday (3/5), it was down to spotting. friday (3/6), it was completely gone and i was finally able to go pad-free. i have not had any spotting since.

on wednesday (3/4), my hcg was down to 29. i need to have just one more blood draw (i'm going this wednesday, 3/11) because it should be below 5 by then. supposedly it takes 4 weeks to get your period after you hit 0. i actually have a little poll going to see who can guess the day i'll get my period (i'm just desperate for something to do to pass the time). i'm guessing april 8. sean says april 7. i got a vote for the last week in march (that would be GREAT!).

unless this blood draw goes poorly (i stall out above 5), i'll then schedule an appointment for a consult on a sunday (i really don't think my doctor doesn't ever NOT work). it'll probably just be a talking thing...i don't know if they'll start doing the blood draws until my cycle is back to normal, but if i'm wrong that would be good because, as i said, i need some sort of markers to get me from now until the time i can try again (which will probably be june).

i wonder if i talk about this every year, but (1) i'm too lazy to check right now and (2) it, unfortunately, becomes all the more true each year: i HATE march. i hate it. first, it's a LONG month. 31 days, and (unless easter or passover are abnormally early) we have no days off. it seems to be one of the more challenging times of year management-wise as well. second, daylight savings time starts. yes, it's only an hour of sleep, but (a) it always comes at the end of a week that demands extra rest, and (b) i have a TERRIBLE time adjusting to it because i'm just not a person who can say "oh hey i'd better go to bed early tonight" and expect her body to obey. it just doesn't work that way.

third, we have my birthday. my birthday used to be a reminder of another year of my wasted youth, a reminder that i don't have any friends, and things of that sort. now it's a reminder of the fact that i'm not getting any younger and i have yet to carry a child to term.

it's also exactly a week from what SHOULD be my due date with carlin. i should be 37w5d carlin and 7w4d with mellen.

four days after that, it's the 4 year "anniversary" of losing my dear animal companion (and, honestly, best friend) bobo.

four days after that, mercifully, april arrives. i'm not nuts about april 1 though (weird long story connected to my phobia). but i will be SO glad for april 2 to be here.

i don't know if i'm just tired, if i'm slightly anemic from the blood loss (although i know it was minimal compared to other natural miscarriages), or if i'm depressed, but i'm having a rough time. the only thing making me think it's not depression is that i'm not even tempted to restrict and i haven't self-injured. but i just kind of drag along through the day, trying to conserve my energy as best i can, taking so much effort to appear normal and be pleasant for my students. i'll find myself in the bathroom for my pre-9th-period pottybreak, just telling myself it's just another hour or two or whatever to go (depending on whether i have to stay after that day). it feels like i felt when i had pregnancy symptoms, but i'm not pregnant.

and times that i'm feeling okay, i'll still hearing myself thinking "i want to kill myself" or "i wish i were dead." i haven't crossed that line that lets me know FOR CERTAIN that i'm depressed....and there is a point at which it does become certain for me....but they don't feel all that invasive. i'm not making plans obsessively, but i'm not shocked at the thoughts. it seems natural to be thinking them. i'm not panicking over how i'm going to get through the next 5 minutes, but i an overwhelmed by the thought of going through a workday.

i don't know.

23 days until april.

2009-03-02T20:37:00.002-05:00

i've been realizing over the last few days that i am really in recovery. no BS. in fact, you could say i'm recovered. maybe if i gain a couple more and get over the magic 85% line...but that's really not that far away. i haven't even been tempted to restrict after this second miscarriage. if that's not proof, i don't know what is.

back to that. okay, i found it really helpful to read stories of miscarriages on blogs like waiting for a miscarriage, waiting to miscarry, and babydust. i got even more detail in a thread on the mothering.com forums.

so i decided to give an account of my own. if you're squeamish, skip this next part.

2/1 (11 dpo) faint positive!!

2/2 (12 dpo) another positive! blood test revealed hcg was 50 and progesterone was 41.2. i don't have to use progesterone suppositories! yay!

2/9 (19 dpo or 4w5d) hcg is 2042! yay!

2/11 (5w) despite a really crappy night of sleep, i'm awake and not walking around like a zombie for the first time since my BFP. i also finally make a decent poo (i get REALLY constipated from high progesterone). not sure if this is a wonderful thing or a terrible thing, but it didn't go unnoticed.

2/13 (5w2d) stood up after breakfast and felt a trickle.....checked it and it was thin, pinkish-brown. stayed home with my feet up. went into the doctor that afternoon for a blood draw to check my hcg. very very light spotting (staining really, not even spotting) continued until the evening.

2/14 (5w3d) got results: hcg was 2700 (only slightly up from 2042 on 2/9). this is bad news. doctor wants to do a repeat blood draw on monday (2/16) and possibly an ultrasound to rule out an ectopic pregnancy. i am certain it's not ectopic, but whatever. very light spotting returned

2/16 (5w5d) hcg is 1450. it's over. ultrasound reveals a gestational sac (in the uterus) that measures 4w3d. the doctor sits me down and give me options (d&c or wait, and if things aren't progressing i could take a shot of methotrexate). i choose to wait. he seems to be concerned that that'll be bad for me emotionally, but i don't have a problem with it. i just don't want to have general anesthesia and a tube down my throat and surgery and the feeling of low blood pressure when i wake up and that weird parkinsons-like thing i get in my legs when i'm anxious. i'd rather just wait. i hope i can do it naturally.

there's only like a 5% chance of having two miscarriages in a row.

the dr. talks to me about the plan. now i'm a recurrent miscarrier, so it's time to "put our helmets on" and do testing. i'll have to pass this, then have one period, then i think we'll start testing the following cycle. it's all blood tests. when i mention that my mom has a retrovert uterus and my sis had a septate uterus, he said we could do a hystosomethingogram but that would be another cycle. part of me just wants to try again right away...just one more time...because i know this is going to be a long 4-month wait.

it seems like a luteal phase defect is possible given my history of abnormal bleeding and the eating disorder. having good progesterone at the very beginning doesn't rule it out. that would be easy enough to treat.

still, there's only about a 50% chance that we'll find any particular cause.

that night, i go into the city to spend the night with my sis and mom and see mamma mia. sean is going to meet up with a friend to see a movie. when it's time for him to leave, i completely lose it and can't stop sobbing in the hotel lobby, because i'm just not ready to be away from him. we end up going home.

2/17 - 2/22 light spotting. i have probably 3 episodes in which i think that things are getting started. the spotting gradually turned redder and got slightly heavier. but i distinctly remember thinking "okay this is happening" several times, and i was wrong.

2/23 go back to work after having the week before off. after work, go to dr. for another blood draw.

things seem to get SLIGHTLY heavier that night--probably after being on my feet all day. i start to see some clots.

2/24 dr. calls--my hcg only dropped to 1100 (from 1450 the week before). things are not progressing. i should have a d&c or shot of methotrexate. i choose the shot. the dr. says he needs to double-check on the protocol, and he'll talk to me the next day.

bleeding is heavier today, and there are lots of little clots. i'm REALLY surprised my bloodwork didn't reflect this...i'm confused, really.

i start to research methotrexate. the more i read, the more afraid i am. i start to pray that i'll miscarry naturally overnight.

2/25 bleeding is SO heavy today. oh my god. my back feels tight all day. by about 11 am, i'm soaking a pad an hour. i debate going home, but i keep saying "just get through ___." eventually i realize i'd be wasting a half day for just a couple hours. i don't leave the piano bench during 6th grade chorus as i gush. i talk to the school nurse, and she said it still seems within the "normal" (not hemorrhaging) range, but if it's still like this tonight to call the doctor. i get a tall stool to sit on for 7/8th grade chorus, and i'm terrified it's going to leak out all over. in the middle of teaching (not sure if it was 7/8 chorus or the make-up lesson i was teaching in self-help), i feel a particularly big gush.

i go straight home, shower, and put my feet up. before getting in the shower, i see that what i felt come out wasn't a gush of blood, but solid material. i basically passed whatever placenta/fetal material there was in the middle of teaching. (i'm pretty badass). i rinse it off and look at it for a while. it's maybe an inch in diameter, not spherical, and very solid. it looks like meat...liver maybe. i examine it, but decide against cutting into it to look for the gestational sac. what purpose would it serve? i flush it.

the doctor calls at 8:30, and i cut him off right away to say that i really do think i passed it today. he chides me for not calling him. what is he gonna do? say, "good job...keep miscarrying! go girl" why bother? he asks me to come in for another blood draw in the morning.

2/26 i stay home, mainly to avoid embarrassment from the amount of blood i'm gushing. besides, it seems like the bleeding is slightly more manageable when i'm laying down. the heating pad and i are best friends by now.

i get my results at night: hcg is only 300 (down from 1100 on 2/23). this is really good news. i don't need the shot.

2/27 i go to work. i probably get about 2 hours out of a pad, maybe. by now, i'm sick of bleeding and slightly sore from wiping.

2/28 i stay off my feet for most of the day, but i'm very crampy. at night, we go to the grocery store, and i feel like i'm bleeding SO heavily...i assume it's from standing up. when i get home, i see that i passed another small piece of tissue. (when i'm talking about tissue, i'm not talking about blobby clots...i'm talking SOLID chunks of stuff).

3/1 FINALLY i start to see the bleeding slowing down. it's like normal heavy period stuff...not the crazy running faucet. i stay off my feet for most of the day, and then we go to the mall for a big, and it doesn't pick up a lot.

3/2 snow day! i stay off my feet, and i notice the blood is getting browner and i'm getting a good 4 hours out of a pad now.

so that's where i stand. i'm going to get another blood draw on wednesday or thursday--i'm hoping it'll be below 50.

i think i get my period 2-6 weeks after it hits 0. i'm predicting my first period will be around easter. i'm looking at not behind able to try again until june. sigh.

other than that...i'm a little concerned that i'm anemic. i don't want to be melodramatic--people lose WAY more blood than me when they have later miscarriages--but i am VERY tired all the time. i've been napping between 4 and 6 the last few days, and i haven't had ANY trouble sleeping at night. this is unlike me.

as for the emotional stuff....i still don't know. i just don't know. i think i might have been using the "need to document all the physical stuff" as an excuse not to think about my feelings, so that's out of the way now. now what?

if you googled this because you're going through a miscarriage, my heart goes out to you. i hope this helps.

2009-02-22T20:41:00.003-05:00

there's a new star in the night sky

it's been quite a while since i've updated, and i guess for now i'll stick with the big thing.

mellen (little pleasant one) luke (light)

i've had another miscarriage. i didn't really tell as many people about it in unlocked places on the internet...not because i was vowing to wait until second trimester (in fact, maybe i knew i wouldn't make it anywhere near there), but because i just hadn't had the chance yet.

again, it started so good. i was cleared (weight-wise and in terms of recovery from the d&c) to start trying in december. i didn't get pregnant the first month, which is probably a good thing because we both ended up EXTREMELY ill with a stomach virus over the new year, and i was running a high fever even after taking tylenol. we were pathetic, and it was actually kind of traumatizing to both of us: me, because of the emetophobia (i took 2 of my 3 remaining zofran pills, and i know that's the only thing that saved me) and sean because that was the sickest he has EVER been, poor thing.

we recovered and, much to our excitement, my most fertile days fell on MLK's birthday and obama's inauguration day. on february 1, at 11 days past ovulation, i got an extremely faint positive. i was going to wait it out to see if it was a chemical pregnancy, but the line got darker the next day, and i ended up calling the doctor. my hcg at 12 dpo was 50 (good) and my progesterone was 41.2 (excellent), which meant i didn't have to go on progesterone suppositories (which i HATED last time). a week later (2/9), my hcg (which was supposed to double about every 48-72 hours) was 2040. i was PSYCHED!

and i had SYMPTOMS! i was sooooooooooooooooooo tired. so crazy tired. like zombie tired. and i was smelling things. i have a weak sense of smell, so i'd say that pregnancy brought me up to a normal sensitivity to smells. and i craved eggs like nobody's business, which is just disgusting. (i ate them anyway). i was constipated too. but mostly--i was constantly yawning and dragging my feet everywhere. but i couldn't sleep.

i didn't FEEL nervous though. i felt more laid back than i would have expected.

on february 13, at just 5 weeks and 2 days, as i was getting ready to leave for work, i felt something wet. it was a couple drops of pinkish-brown blood. i started tearing up because i didn't know what to do, and i didn't know what to do about work (it's a real taboo to be out the day before or after a vacation, and february break started the following day). i called into work, and my coworker told me to stay home and she'd talk to our principal for me. my doctor told me to put my feet up and rest, and he'd call once he got through an emergency c-section. i didn't end up going to the doctor until 1:30, and he just did a quick blood draw. i stopped spotting by the evening, but i really didn't have a good feeling about it.

the next day (valentine's day), i got the bad news: in 4 days, my hcg had gone from 2040 to 2700. it was probably over. i mean you can't say "definite" until you get a drop, but it was awful early in the pregnancy to have that kind of slow down. he was concerned about it being an ectopic pregnancy, but i really doubted that (i had no pain at all, and they really aren't all THAT common).

on monday, he did another blood draw in the morning and an ultrasound in the afternoon (which i'm thankful for--i think it was important for me to see some sort of evidence that this pregnancy was real). i had continued to spot starting saturday night, and i worried that i had passed what was left of the gestational sac, and then the doctor would assume it was ectopic when he didn't find anything on the ultrasound. (he would have given me a shot of methotrexate--it didn't seem like the side effects are too bad, but i wanted to try to let this happen naturally).

we did find a sac on the ultrasound--one measuring 4 weeks 3 days, not 5 weeks 5 days. also, my hcg had dropped to 1450. apart from flukes like "vanishing twin syndrome," a pregnancy does not survive a drop in hcg until much much much later on in the pregnancy, well past the time when you'd even bother measuring hcg. it was a very clear miscarriage.

the doctor had really pushed the d&c last time because my hcg had gotten high enough that there would be a decent amount of tissue in there. i was afraid of labor pains and transition-like pain and vomiting, and that outweighed my fear of general anesthesia. (interestingly, after the d&c, he said to me "this was NOT a good pregnancy--there was hardly any blood," so maybe i would have survived "expectant management). i got through the d&c, but honestly it was traumatic because of my phobia, and because i did that weird thing where i get the parkinson-like movements and can't sleep and then start freaking out...

this time, he seemed to favor the d&c, but he said i could definitely do it naturally and it would probably just be a heavy period (but i might have a very long wait that could be hard on me psychologically). i figured that this was CLEARLY a bad pregnancy, and my hcg never got that high, so i can do this.

and so i wait.

and wait.

i'm not finding the waiting as hard as some other women do. a lot of women want to be knocked out, sparing them the physical pain of cramping and the psychological pain of deciding what to do with a recognizable gestational sac and/or embryo....i totally understand that. but i didn't even make it to 6 weeks.

so i wait, knowing that if my body doesn't get to work clearing out my uterus, eventually i'll HAVE to have a d&c or else risk my future fertility. i think i have at least 2 weeks from the day the miscarriage was diagnosed (2/16), though, before he really starts to worry about infection or whatever.

i've been spotting for 10 days now (from 2/13), but today was more like a light period, and i got some red for the first time (apart from a couple very tiny and random clots). i've had a lot of false starts ("this is it. i think it's starting"), but today is the first time i'm starting to feel confident that i can do this on my own. it's just very slow going. but as long as i'm bleeding at least a little, i figure my body is working on it.

i have to go back for a blood draw every week until my hcg is below 5. after that, i'll wait for my first real period (which will probably come in 4-6 weeks, although it took 7 after i had the d&c). the following cycle we'll start the testing, because i'm now a "recurrent miscarrier." apparently the chances of 2 consecutive miscarriages with no live births in between is less than 5%. aren't i a special snowflake!

while i'm spouting useless statistics that clearly don't apply to me (e.g., only 15-25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage): the chances are at least 50% that all that testing won't yield any answers. i could have a funky-shaped uterus (although that's supposedly more likely to affect things much later on in pregnancy), or i could have a luteal phase defect (if there is a found reason, this'll probably be it), or there's like a 1-2% chance it's some weird genetic or immunological or whatever exotic thing.

it'll be another month after that if i have that hystosomethinggram where they shoot dye in your fallopian tubes to look for structural abnormalities.

part of me is relieved that i have a doctor that goes with the "2 miscarriage" guideline to initiate testing (rather than the many doctors who make you wait until 3 to investigate), but part of me just wants to take advantage of the much-talked-about post-miscarriage super-fertility to try one more time, right away.

i will wait.

the first time, i said "i don't think i can go through this again." and i didn't mean the miscarriage--i meant the day of and the 24-48 hours following the d&c. this i can handle.

and i don't feel at ALL confident that my next pregnancy won't end in miscarriage, yet i want to try again. some people have 3, 4, 5, 6 miscarriages before they have children. and the only way to get there is to go through it. i know it's kind of callous to say that, and it implies that i just want a child and that i don't think there would have been anything special about the children who i never got to meet....

and that's not even a little bit true...i miss them...

but i definitely WON'T have a child if i don't work on it.

and then i think about most of my life...even as a teenager, i didn't know if i wanted kids, but deep down i thought it would be hubris to just assume that i could have children. maybe that's right...i can be incredibly intuitive. maybe i KNOW.

if that's the case, at some point i'll give up on having a biological child, and i'll get on an adoption waiting list. i'm concerned that i wouldn't be considered a good candidate because of my mental health history, but i'll cross that bridge when and if i come to it.

i'm at the babbling point now.

and i'm THINKING. i haven't done a lot of crying. i cried last friday and saturday, and i had a HUGE freakout on monday, but that's kind of it. i don't know if that's all there is, or if it hasn't hit me or if, like last time, the amount of sorrow is infinite, so crying doesn't really seem to bring me any closer to "okay." that's going to take some time to sort out. but yes, i'm intellectualizing now. maybe i'm still in shock, i don't know.

i'll update with my progress (or lack thereof), and more processing.

this really DID happen though, and i'm not ashamed about it, and i'm going to talk about it. i miss you, mellen luke. i really wanted you to stay.

2008-11-06T20:36:00.002-05:00

i started to write this to kerry as a response to her comment (asking what my reasons were for wanting to have a baby), but as it got longer and longer i decide it was really more of a post, because this is good stuff for me to examine:

i didn't think i had a biological clock either...i went from "i'm not sure i'm ever going to want to have a baby" to "MUST GET PREGNANT ASAP" within a period of about 6 months. even as i started feeling it, it took me by surprise.

let me start with why i DIDN'T think i'd ever have a baby. first, after seeing what my sister and her husband went through in order to have children, i always thought it would be hubris for me to assume that i can just decide i want children and get them. i have a history of menstrual wackiness, and it took my sister years of trying and 2 in vitro fertilizations in order to become a mother. i really don't know that i'm strong enough to go through all of that, but i somehow knew that once i started trying, if i had trouble, i would end up going through some of the same things she did...and that really frightened me.

second, i had some serious concerns about myself as a mother--particularly my borderline tendencies. i probably don't need to even take the time to type out the details of my concerns--some of them i experienced on the child side of things, and other ones are my own unique brand of craziness that would be unfair to inflict on a child. i have been particularly concerned about having a girl, because of the eating disorder.

third, i didn't consider us financially stable enough to even consider it until i got tenure.

fourth, i doubted if i even WANTED a kid. and, of course, if you're not DYING to have a kid, choosing not to bring one into the world is the way to go.

okay, so now let's see what has happened to the top four reasons that has maybe children my mind:

(1) nothing has really happened to this...i went into it trying my best, but definitely hoping rather than assuming. i got pregnant right away, so that was reassuring. (of course, now my fear is that THAT was hubris, and now i'll have a terrible time conceiving).

(2) i've talked about this a lot in therapy, and i have gotten a lot of reassurance. a psychic told me (with little prompting) that i am much much more aware of what my issues are, and therefore much better equipped to deal with them rather than making it my child's problem. i plan to continue with therapy and any other treatment that i need to be healthy for myself and my child.

i also started thinking i'd probably have boys anyway.

(3) i got tenure.

(4) i was always afraid that i'd get past the age at which i could have a child, and then i'd seriously regret not having children. in fact, as year after year passed without an audible tick of a biological clock, i became more and more convinced that this is how it would be.

but, most importantly, i just suddenly wanted to have a baby.

when it comes right down to it, it wasn't logical. it wasn't a decision. i didn't make a list of "pros" that was longer than the list of "cons." i don't have an answer for why i want to have a baby...sure, i could put some advantages of having a baby into words, but when it comes down to it, it's ineffable. it's like answering the question "why did you fall in love with your husband?" i can name reasons, sure, but it isn't for a reason. it just is.

what came over me over the last year is a very powerful force.

2008-11-04T19:49:00.001-05:00

2008-11-02T20:35:00.002-05:00

since the last post.

voice hasn't gotten too much better, but i got rid of what was left of the cold-type-thing i had, and it's a new week, so who knows.

my little niece is in the hospital. she's been in the ICU for a week. when she first went in, her oxygen levels were way too low, and her bloodwork was a mess. i think the original diagnosis was pneumonia, but the breathing stuff was so bad they had her on a ventilator (which meant she had to be sedated, which meant her blood pressure kept dropping). the bottom part of her left lung had collapsed...i don't know exactly what that means, but it doesn't sound great. they tried weaning her off the vent, but they ended up turning it all the way back up, but i think it's down to 60% now.

later on this week, the dr. theorized that she might have a pseudomonas infection...that's basically a tough, antibiotic-resistant infection that you get in the hospital. like a staph infection. in her case, she probably got it from being on a ventilator...the bacteria is everywhere, but healthy, non-immunocompromised people just don't get sick from it.

i'm been googling this and reading the real stuff--stuff from peer-reviewed journals.

oh have i mentioned that she's only 7 years old? it's not fair. not fair to her, not fair to my sister and her husband, not fair to her sister and brother. it scares me. it's like every....i don't know....6 months maybe?...a really scary thing comes up with her (bad infection after having her feeding tube put in, scary bloodwork, this), and she recovers because she's a VERY tough girl, but NO ONE EVER GETS TO THE BOTTOM OF IT. and i understand that it's not like she has one underlying illness to point to, but i get so angry every time because it FEELS like people just kinda put a bandaid on it and move her along until the next time. the evidence points to that not being at ALL true--i'm not being logical at all, this is just how it feels to someone who lives thousands of miles away and gets her information thirdhand. it doesn't feel "okay" to me until all the questions are answered but, again, it's not like she has ____ (insert a condition: ms, cystic fibrosis, etc.). her "case" is just so complex.

speaking of cystic fibrosis, pseudomonas infections are common among people with CF who are on vents. i think that her not having it is working in her favor in terms of her recovery--i don't think she's generally considered immunocompromised. i looked up at a bunch of studies in peer-reviewed journals, and she has a lot of the characteristics that point to a better prognosis, and very few of the characteristics that point to a worse one. so that's good. but it's still not fair.

in other news, i've never wanted a period so bad in my life. i finally got my first (of the three i have to have before i can "try" again) 7 weeks after my d&c, and according to my old "schedule," i would be due today. however, neither my CM, my temps, or the dr. seem to think i ovulated this month, so i wondered if i'd get a period...and i saw the time when i can get pregnant slipping farther and farther away. then i had a little spotting today, and i practically wanted to throw a party. then it stopped. but maybe it's coming. if i skip a month, that'll set me back to trying in january rather than the end of december...i feel like i'm chasing a carrot that's tied to the back of a wagon....

i think that's it. i did a lot of cleaning and housework things this weekend. i'm actually doing something social this weekend and i think it must have sunk in because i had a brief period of anxiety about it. (and we're talking about a little slumber party here--not a big blowout). the cleaning was so the house would be cleanish without me rushing around to try to clean it before people come over. i can concentrate on food now...or...errr...i don't know what to do about that. well, i know I'LL be eating at any rate...

did i say i am not vegan any more? i miss it. i miss my soy. the dr. has been working with me on weight restoration before i try again (it couldn't hurt right?). he looked over my vegan menus...and it was WAAAAAAAAAAY too much soy. when i cut down soy, it was still too much soy and not enough protein. i'm supposed to eat 1 c. of full-fat ice cream every month (probably because of the link between full-fat dairy and improved ability to conceive) and have 2 big (NY-style) slices of pizza every 3 days for dinner. if i distract myself and try to rinse out the gross dairy aftertaste, it's okay. i miss soy terribly (i'm only allowed 2 servings a week--because of the link to breast cancer), and i hate having to take lactaid all the time.

peanut butter, almonds, walnuts, black beans, and chickpeas are my saviors. yum yum yum.

so...yeah. i'm planning on sticking with this until...i was thinking (in moments of I WILL DO ANYTHING AT ALL FOR BABY), but i don't know. i need to gain the weight (i've gained 11 lbs since last january, about 6 since i got pregnant). having a bmi of under 18.5 correlates to a MUCH higher miscarriage rate, and i'm well under that (for now). but maybe i can learn how to do it vegan. maybe in time i can work toward being a vegan that gets at least 70 g of protein a day. i'm already eating more nuts than i used to, and starting to work on beans. so maybe i can get there without soy (i don't like seitan, alas). or maybe once i reach a reasonable rate, the doctor will clear me to eat somewhat less protein.

i definitely still bake vegan. it's so easy to sub ener-g egg replacer for eggs, which gross me out. i made a vegan gingerbread today, yum.

anyway. if there are any vegans reading my journal, i hope you're not too disappointed. maybe you understand the feeling of NEEDING to do whatever you can (even though there is little you CAN do) to make the next baby stay.

i find myself wanting a girl. i wanted a boy before...or i just said that because i assumed i was pregnant with a boy, and i thought i'd get a head start on being psyched about the sex. around the time i lost it, i kept thinking girl...and i couldn't get "playboy mommy" out of my head. then i found out it was a girl, and now i find myself wanting a girl. that's a problem because, (1) you're not supposed to put everything on the subsequent baby, and (2) the next one is going to be a boy, and that's a wonderful thing, so i'd better just snap out of it.

i think i've written enough. good night all.

2008-10-23T16:56:00.002-04:00

i'm worried about my voice. i've felt tired and "goopy" for the last couple of days, but no actual illness has developed, leaving me without an excuse for the haziness in my voice. i can feel it going. i can hear it too, but mostly i can feel it. i know my voice. if i'm not sick, then that would mean there's swelling, damage. it's so early in the year. i admit i've used it a LOT, but i was perfectly fine until this week. but that wouldn't rule out nodules--it can happen quickly. if it's not better (or i don't come down with an illness) by monday i guess i'll be going back to the ENT. i'm nervous.

i also had a frustrating day of trying not to have to deal with me sucking.

i've gained a good 11 pounds since this winter. i'm up to what i weighed when i left renfrew--just 3 lbs below 85%. i was slipping on the eating, so i didn't really expect to gain this week...so now that i did, i'm a little freaked out that i won't know what to do when it's time to stop gaining. i only have to go every other week now...which is good, because i tend to have to be an add-on, which means i have a long wait. dr. m said "come here" and then basically frisked me. i don't mean inappropriate touching, of course--he was checking to see how much fat i had on me. i said "wow this is just like when my husband hugs me and checks my ribs."

so...i started charting my BBT after i got a period...i just need something to do for the next couple of months. i used to ovulate on day 20. day 20 came and went without EWCM or a rise in temperature. ditto for day 21, 22, 23... i told the dr. about it and he said "if you haven't ovulated by day 20, you're not ovulating this month." i don't know if i've ever not ovulated. i told him that i got a period every month, even when i was at my lowest weight, and asked if it was possible that the only thing making me get a period was my crazy-high consumption of soy. he said "absolutely--that's estrogen. if you eat enough, the body will trick the pituitary gland into thinking the levels are high enough."

now i'm like....what now? what if i don't get a period? i've been consuming large amounts of soy for YEARS. and now i'm worried, of course, that i'll have trouble conceiving. he said that if the 3 months go by and i don't ovulate, he'll do something to trigger (i'm not sure if he meant a period or ovulation), and if that doesn't work, i'll do clomid. but he doesn't think that it'll come to that, so that's hopeful.

i just feel so crappy about myself. i'm hideous and incompetent and why would anyone look to me to lead them or teach them?

2008-09-29T11:32:00.003-04:00

somewhere where the orchids grow

today, i asked the doctor for a copy of the pictures from the day we got a heartbeat.

i guess it kind of ....re-reminded me that this really happened. i really carried a life in me--with a beating heart--and i couldn't keep that life alive.

the doctor put me on this super-high-fat and calorie diet to put weight on me. my intake went from like 1200 to 1800-2200 on september 24, but i somehow lost 2 lbs. the nurse seemed upset. i told her i thought i was wearing heavier clothes on 9/24, and i had to pee, and i'm wearing light clothes and don't have to pee. she didn't seem any more satisfied with it. dr. m didn't seem too worried--or, at least, he didn't want me to worry. he said, "well, it's not going in the direction we want it to, but you're doing well."

i think i've decided that i WON'T get pregnant unless i get up to 110 at least. i don't want to lose another one. but then the psychic said my next would be a boy. i would love a boy, but it also makes me sad because i want this one, and there will be no denying that it's not carlin. not that babies are every interchangeable....i don't know.

tomorrow i would be 15 weeks.

work is getting a little bit easier--i'm able to somehow scrounge up energy and focus most of the time. but all the emotional stuff is actually harder in some ways. i know i'd be showing. i said to sean last night at ikea, "does it seem like everyone is pregnant?" he said, "yes--it's definitely not just you." i said, "well, actually, it's everyone BUT me." but at least i'm out of the "depression starvation" phase.

2008-09-21T20:40:00.000-04:00

we named the little tyke tonight:
carlin aleah

carlin = "little champion"
aleah = "ascending"

we're sad because the little champion ascended instead of staying with us. i miss you carlin.

2008-09-19T21:09:00.002-04:00

i'll say it loud here by your grave
those angels can't
ever take my place

i found out (via a psychic) that it was a girl.

2008-09-01T21:39:00.002-04:00

i miss being pregnant.

i would be 11 weeks tomorrow. i think i would have popped out by now. i think i would have been SO happy to be going back with my belly that only i could see. or maybe i'd just have to wear a fitted t shirt with low-rise pants.

when you have a miscarriage, you're supposed to name the child and not re-use the names you had picked out next time. but i've had these names picked out for YEARS. i thought about just picking another name, but i know that i had every intention of using one of these two names. i'm slightly less attached to the boy name--it's just a name i love, while the girl name is after my grandmothers. the doctor didn't tell me if the results of the pathology were XX or XY, and i didn't ask. at the time, it didn't matter....it would only be certain if it was XY. if it was XX, it could be a girl or the sample could have been uterine lining. if the answer was XY, though, i could figure my boy name was taken and pick out other ones (i actually have one picked out, i think). i don't know what to do. i'd like to just re-use those names. or at least the girl name. it doesn't mean i'm any less attached to the baby i lost. i mean, i was referring to it as BBC, so i definitely wouldn't do that again...i don't know. i guess i sort of "named" the baby by calling it that. i'm not attached to brendan as a middle name....we could just keep benjamin and get a new middle name. i don't know.

so we were discussing baby names at lunch. really just boy names. i'm not giving up the girl name. and it was pathetic...there we were, talking about it as if we were just starting to try, or as if we hadn't lost the baby. it's going to be a while until i can be pregnant again--december at least.

i just wanted to get something down, because i haven't updated in a while. i've been sort of burying it in books. i think i know all that a layman can know about the subject now...but finally i found a book that's actually helpful emotionally. it's called a silent sorrow, and i think i'll get back to it now. good night, folks.

2008-08-17T18:54:00.003-04:00

my breasts leaked today as i was laying in bed watching lifetime. they still feel so full. i actually found myself thinking the ridiculous thought "maybe it was a twin that was sucked out, and they just didn't look hard enough for the other one, who is healthy." ridiculous. apparently it happens.

i had an upsetting dream last night. i had teeth falling out (bottom molars). i think i lost about 4 in this one. one of them had a golfball-sized clump of matter attached to it, two were normal tooth loss, and one crumbled into pieces in my hand. i wondered if it was ever going to stop. wonder if i only have crumbling teeth dreams when i'm stressed. according to the google search i did as i couldn't slepe between 5:30 and 7:00, these dreams are really common. they can be about any of the following:
(1) fear of aging
(2) anxiety about appearance or how one appears to others
(3) relative or close friend is going to get sick or die
(4) anxiety about life changes
(5) painful loss of a permanent part of your life (or something you thought was permanent)
(6) loss of power & control in your life

etc etc.

(1) & (2) i don't think there's a fear of aging, appearance, public embarassment...well...actually i do have some anxiety about the beginning of the school year. going out into public when you've been nursing your very-raw wounds in a bubble is extremely scary. when i was in renfrew, i went straight from inpatient to SPX, and it was EXTREMELY difficult for me. i will still need support, but there's really no good way to work "i had a miscarriage and i'm having a horrible day" into a lunchtime conversation.

(3) i lost a relative last monday.

(4) i was already anxious about life changes before last week. i didn't allow myself to think about it, but i was freaked out about moving. i lived in that apartment with sean for 6 years--it's the only place we've lived together. last week, i automatically went home from group to the apartment rather than our house. it's a good change, but any change seems to freak me out.

i was anxious about bringing a child into the world--even ambivalent, if i'm a little nervous. yes, i had moments of "i'm not ready for this." i even consciously thought once or twice (if i remember correctly, the context was that i was freaking out at night about getting morning sickness), "i don't know if i'm ready for this. i bet if i miscarried this time, like so many other people seem to do, next time around i've be 100% sure and 100% ready and not so freaking out about this." guess i got what i "wanted." well, what i wanted about 0.0000000000001% of the time.

later on in the dream--or maybe it was before--i ran into lexie. she was a friend i had done a couple shows with, and i was pretty close with her my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. she was in love with jeff when we dated, and none of the three of us knew why he went that route rather than going for her. he never really liked me. anyway, about a week after they started to get together, he died in a car accident. on sean's birthday. there's probably some connection there to that loss. in the note i wrote jeff and put in his coffin, i promised to look after her. i broke my promise completely, and i have since lost touch. i'm sure there's no way of getting in touch now--she's probably married with a different name. i wonder why she was in the mix.

back to the list, sorry.

(5) i guess this is self-explanatory.

(6) i gave up the control over my intake, the eating disorder, for myself and for my baby. i gave up control over my body in order to be pregnant--i couldn't control whether or not i had fatigue, headaches, morning sickness, bizarre cravings. i accepted that (with anxiety). and i had no control over the life (and then death) inside of me.

i don't know the point of this post--but the tooth thing happens a lot for me. i'll know i'm going to lose one tooth (usually a molar on the bottom), and then i'll find another 2 or more teeth just fall out. the crumbling into my hands was a new component.

other than that...i'm just kind of zombie-like. maybe that's good. i would think that that was normal, a sign that i'm moving on, if it weren't for the crazy thought earlier today. i had to actually tell myself (don't remember if it was out loud or loudly in my head) that the pregnancy was over, that the baby was gone and will never come back. i guess it's an improvement upon convincing myself to ignoring decreasing hcg numbers.

2008-08-14T19:53:00.003-04:00

i need to tell this story, because it still doesn't seem real.

on monday, i brought my husband with me to the ultrasound. if i'm honest with myself, i was full of false hopes. foolish hopes--hcg doesn't lie. on the outside, it was because i'd need him, but inside that 5% of me that always hopes for the best, i wanted him to see the heart beat.

there was no heartbeat, and there had been no growth. the sonographer said that the yolk sac was too big, and she said that usually indicates chromosomal abnormalities.

ah, the old "chromosomal abnormalities." doctors will tell you that 50%-to-most early miscarriages are due to this. a sperm with the wrong number of chromosomes, or an egg (usually it's the egg, i read today), or something wrong in the genetic "instructions" for combining. this thought was never a comfort to me, because it didn't come with any guarantees that all my eggs aren't defective. no guarantees that it wouldn't happen over and over. i finally figured out why "they" think it's good news--it's proof positive that it's not your fault. i'm not looking for blame--i'm looking to have a baby.

i'm telling the whole story of my d&c because i need to process, but also because all of the other accounts i've read tended to gloss over the whole thing. maybe i am the only person in the world who feels traumatized from the experience itself...

my doctor said i'd have the d&c scheduled for the following afternoon or evening, and to call him at 8:00 in the morning. i was pissed off because you have to fast all day beforehand. he suggested having breakfast at 6 am. i decided i wasn't going to set my alarm for 6 to eat breakfast just in case it was at 2 pm. i ate at 7:15 when i got up. i had a bowl of shredded oats, some walnuts, and then a bowl of cheerios with blueberries.

the procedure was scheduled for 4. i had to be at the hospital at 12:30 for pre-operative testing. i got there and signed in. i was given a cup and a vial for urine. i told the person who gave them to me that that simply wasn't going to happen--i hadn't had anything to drink all day. she said that that was okay, she was just obligated to give me the vial. i filled out some paperwork, and then waited to check in. a woman checked me in and had me sign a bunch of papers (hipaa, informed consent, etc). i went back to the waiting room. i was called back to get blood drawn. the nurse was very kind. after she weighed me, she had me sit down, and she offered condolences. when i started to cry, she offered me tissues and put her hand on me for comfort. i had written on the form that i was emetophobic, and i would require anti-emetics along with the anesthesia. she told me she's write that on her communication to the anesthesiologist, but i should also mention it when we meet. then she convinced me to try to pee, and i did.

i was sent back to the waiting room for a while, and then someone came to walk me over to ambulatory surgery. when i got there, a girl took me back to a locker room to change into a hospital gown and slip-resistant socks. i left my regular socks on underneath, since my feet are usually cold. she asked me if i was okay, and i said yes. i guess i started tearing up at some point, because she asked again, and i started openly crying. i can't remember what she said to me, but it was kind.

when i came out, i saw someone i knew out of the corner of my eye--it was the mother of the former student who had sung at my wedding. she just walked by really quick, but i knew it was her. i asked if there was a nurse sullivan there, and one of the nurses came up and said her last name was sullivan. i couldn't remember the first name, i just said no...another one. it was her. she came over and gave me a hug and i really started sobbing. i couldn't believe i was there.

i was terrified. the room was sort of a waiting area before operations and a post-recovery room. i was so afraid that people would vomit. i even saw a couple emesis basins. they got me in a bed, then moved me to a more private area since i was crying so hard. they told me a little bit about the procedure, and they gave me an iv drip of fluid and an antibiotic. i told mrs. sullivan that i was emetophobic, and i was afraid that all the mucus i was swallowing would make me sick. she asked if i had a cold, and i said "no--i've been crying all day." she got me pepcid and reglan to help push anything in my stomach out so that i'd be less likely to be ill from the anesthesia.

eventually, they moved me again so that sean and i were in front of the tv, and they gave us the remote. we watched scrubs, and we laughed. i was joking around about having gas. they told me that i'd be taken over at about 3:30. my heart sank as the time approached. just as they were wheeling me out, my doctor came in, and i pointed him out. he came over with me. we paused in front of the operating section, and sean gave me kisses and told me he loved me.

they wheeled me in, and paused in front of a desk. two nurses came over and introduced themselves. they put a heated blanket on me, and they said the anesthesiologist would be right there. he and a student anesthesiologist came over, and i don't remember what they said. i told them that i need anti-emetics, and they said that they'd give them to me. my doctor came over and talked to them about it as well. he said he'd give me zofran after, but he liked ____ for the procedure (he used initials--i'm not sure what it was). he also said that he would collect and take with him what they sucked out of me so he could examine it.

they wheeled me into the operating room. it was freezing, and it was bizarre being in there. i saw a bizarre rubber thing that looked like a mask that you'd use to hold a gag in. i always pictured being unconscious before going in, but that makes no sense because then they have to move your body to AND from the gurney. they had me move over to the operating table, and they gave me another heated blanket. they had me put one arm out (i think they may have strapped it down). then they had me do the same with the other arm, so i was crucifixion-style. they then put a breathing mask over my face that smelled strongly of plastic and rubber. the nurse told me to breathe in the fresh air, and my doctor held my hand. i kept breathing, and i was still conscious, which frightened me. my doctor said "good night, amanda," and the room started to spin a bit (but no so much that i panicked that i'd be ill." after maybe 3-5 more breaths, i woke up in recovery.

i was laying on my side (i'm guessing that's the easiest position to move someone into) under a blanket, with a pad just sorta wrapped around me. i felt very groggy, and woozy on and off. i think it might have been because my blood pressure was low (something over 42 the last time they measured it), but i was of course panicked that i was nauseous, so i kept digging my nails into my thigh to try to get through it. i was afraid that people would vomit, but all i heard was snoring thank god. i thought it was 5:30, but as i became more with-it i saw that i woke up at 4:30. the nurse came over at some point and said i could leave recovery once my blood pressure came up...probably in a half hour...and that i could just go back to sleep. i didn't want to go back to sleep.

my doctor came in and told me, "that was not a good pregnancy--there was hardly any blood." i don't remember what else he said.

although i was very out of it, i started to have that weird leg thing that i get when i take compazine without abstaining from prozac for a few days before. i could barely keep my eyes open, but my legs were so uncomfortable that i couldn't keep them still. they weren't in pain, just....uncomfortable. i had to keep moving them in a certain way.

once my blood pressure was up to 90/58, they wheeled me back to the pre-ambulatory surgery area that i started out in. after a bit, they went and got my husband. they offered me juice, tea, or ginger ale. i got a small can of ginger ale, and they gave me some lorna doone cookies (which i did not eat because they're not vegan, and because i was afraid to eat). he ate the cookies though. the legs were getting more and more restless. they asked me if i was in pain...i said not really, just mild cramping. they asked if i wanted anything for the pain, and i said no (i was afraid they'd give me something that would make me feel sick, and the cramping really wasn't all that bad). they told me i could go home after i peed. i asked if i could try then, and they said sure.

they sent someone to my locker to get my clothes, and sean gave me my underwear so i had something to hold the pad to me. i struggled to get them on. then they attached my fluid bag to a movable pole and walked me to the bathroom. i really thought i was going to pass out, because when we got there it wasn't set up properly (they were supposed to put a cover on the seat and a hat in it to catch the urine, and lay out a fresh pad and a paper towel on which to put the used pad). i was praying i wouldn't pass out, because that would slow me down.

after they left, i sat down, and it hurt to pee. sort of like a urinary tract infection. it was peach-colored from the blood, but i DID it. that meant i'd be out of there! i came out, and the nurse asked if i had urinated. i said yes. she went in to look and said, "oh...no...that's not enough. that's less than 100 ml." apparently, i needed to pee 200 ml. i was worried that a small pee would be held against me, but eventually sean asked, and the 200 ml didn't have to be in one sitting. the next hour or hour and half consisted of me getting a second iv bag, pacing the floor (they let me walk around with my little drip pole), going through most of it, and trying 4 more times unsuccessfully. meanwhile my legs were getting increasingly anxious. eventually, the nurse offered tea, and said that helped. two or three tries later, i was successful. they let me get dressed, and then wheeled me outside while sean got the car. i thanked everyone for their kindness.

the drive home took forever. i think i must have gone right upstairs when i got home. no, i think mom gave me a hug first then i went upstairs. i very gingerly showered and got my pajamas on while sean went out to get my zofran prescription filled (the doctor told him he doesn't usually prescribe this, but since i was so worried he would for me). i think all i ate that night were saltines.

i tried in earnest to go to bed starting at about 9. i think i might have dozed for up to 20 minutes at a time, but i couldn't stop moving my legs. it got worse and worse throughout the night. by about 2:00, i was definitely not sleeping at all. at 4:00, i had to get up and pace around the bedroom. i wasn't sure if this was allowed, because i'd read that the less you do in the first 72 hours, the faster your recovery. i was afraid i'd make myself hemorrhage. at 5:30, i took a second shower, and i washed my hair this time. i was more and more panicky, which i tend to interpret as "maybe i'm going to vomit," so i let a zofran melt on my tongue. at 6, i was pacing again. sean woke up, and i started crying because i was in a state of panic by then. all night, i kept going over and over the day. i didn't want it. i hid my discharge papers--it was almost as if they were tainted. i couldn't face any reminder.

i told sean that i hadn't slept, and i started crying. i kept saying, "i don't even know where to start." i felt traumatized. sean convinced me to call the doctor, and i left him a message apologizing profusely and asking if it was okay to take a couple xanax that i had had from an earlier period of anxiety. he called back 10 minutes later, very groggy, and said to take one, and if i needed another 45 minutes later, to go ahead. i took 2. in 30 minutes, i fell asleep for another hour and a half.

when i woke up, the legs were better, but not totally. i had to keep GOING that day. we went to target and made returns. we went to ikea and picked out stuff to order.

that night, i took trazadone, and i slept for 12 hours. that was last night. when i woke up this morning, i could manage to keep my legs still, and i didn't feel like i was dying when i thought about the procedure.

but i still think i'm in denial. my boobs are bigger than ever, and my stomach is all swollen. i went to the library and got some books on miscarriage. i don't think that it has truly sunken in, and i'm terrified for the day when it inevitably does sink in. i read somewhere that the sorrow reaches its peak 3-9 months afterwards. i fear for myself in those days. i guess that's the point of writing this--to move things along. but then again, focusing on the physical stuff is probably a way of denying the REAL pain.

i'm frightened. i can't go through this again. i don't think i have it in me. and the recognition of that scares me even more.

2008-08-04T17:01:00.002-04:00

crazy.

okay, my hcg went down (16,000 on thursday to 15,000 today). very bad.

but.

we got a heartbeat!!!!!!!!!

so....we're doing another ultrasound in a week. i don't know if i can go that long. i'm probably going to call wednesday or thursday and beg for a blood draw so i can check my hcg.

i will gladly take this rollercoaster ride. it buys me another week of hope. and knowing that i have a beating heart inside of me.

i love you, little embryo.

2008-08-04T12:44:00.001-04:00

dr. mack examined me, and there was no bleeding. my cervix was closed. i don't get it. i hate these things that give me false hopes. i'm going back at 3:15 for an ultrasound and, hopefully, the results of my bloodwork. we'll still planning on the d&c for tomorrow (unless something miraculous happens, which would be fine with me).

in a month or two, he wants to do a hysteroscopy to try to figure out if anything's wrong with the lining (since i have a history of abnormal bleeding). he said i can start trying again after three cycles.

he promised that i'd have children.

2008-08-04T08:36:00.002-04:00

i talked to the doctor. he said if i'm not bleeding freely and cramping, i'm not miscarrying. i'm seeing him at 9:30. he's going to do a short exam, draw blood to check my hcg, and go over informed consent stuff for the d&c. i'll get the results this afternoon, then go in for one more ultrasound tonight. unless a miracle happens, i'll be having the d&c tomorrow.

i'm scared of general anesthesia. he said it's not as deep as you'd have for, say, abdominal surgery, so i probably won't get nausea, but i'm scared. maybe it's the "twilight sleep" they do for endoscopy...i think he said i wouldn't need a trach tube...guess i'll be googling the crap out of that today.

2008-08-04T07:45:00.000-04:00

i think i'm starting to miscarry.

2008-08-03T20:36:00.003-04:00

tomorrow

11:00 blood draw. i don't think they're going to do anything else.
i'll probably get my results somewhere between 4 and 6.

we started packing this weekend. the movers were estimating 20-30 boxes. we have about 30 boxes of just books. we're going to call back tomorrow to update them. we got all the CDs, and about 2/3 of the books, packed up. i have all my music books packed but accessible.

felix seems a little freaked out--he's giving me a little more trouble putting in his ear drops (he has that gross dark brown stuff in his ears, and the vet was kind enough to give that to me from a sample rather than making me put him in his kennel). lucy doesn't seem to mind. as long as her kitty condo is around, all is well in her little world. now i'm starting to think he's going to be the one more upset by the move. i don't want either one to be upset. i don't ever want any stress or harm to come to either of them. they are such wonderful pets, and their snuggles make this pain a little more bearable.

my mom is coming into town tomorrow night through friday to help us pack up (i'm not kidding--she bought a plane ticket to come help pack). i'm glad she's coming out, but i have this thing about crying in front of her, so i'm worried i won't be able to contain it so i just vent at bedtime with sean. i'm planning on going to group tomorrow night if i'm not a completely useless blubbering mess, so that'll give me a place to cry.

i really want to be pregnant. i wish i was still pregnant.

2008-08-02T21:21:00.003-04:00

i know it's over. some people are telling me to hang in there with the 20% chance, but i knew when i was pregnant, and i know that i'm not. i don't understand. i was pregnant, and now i'm not. there was something alive in me, and now it's not.

i was thinking i'd want to wait until after we move to have the d&c, but i think it would be better if i just had it as soon as possible. i'm wasting all this money on progesterone ($52 for 15 days worth) just to stop me from spontaneously miscarrying because, if i miscarry before the d&c, i probably won't be able to get the pathology.

ERPC. "evacuation of retained products of conception." that's what it's called. more like the end of the rare potential for contentment." that's just off the top of my head. it's really just the end.

2008-07-31T17:35:00.001-04:00

the news isn't good. my hcg is not what it should be. he said his gut feeling is that it's not a viable pregnancy, but there's about a 20% chance that the low levels are just due to the loss of the twin, so he's going to check my hcg again monday. if it hasn't doubled, he wants to do a d&c and examine it to see if it's chromosomal or whatever. he also wants me to do weight-restoration with him just in case that's the problem, and he wants to monitor everything about me for a month. i can't try for another 3 months or so.

obviously, this is not what i was hoping for, but i really haven't had a good feeling. in the meantime, i'm going to continue the progesterone just in case.

2008-07-31T15:27:00.002-04:00

i'm still in limbo. the sonogram didn't show a heartbeat or fetal pole...when i asked the sonographer if it's still early for that, she said, "well, i really would have liked to have seen them. but there's still hope." there was growth of the sac (it went from 5 weeks and 2 days on monday to 5 weeks and 6 days today), which is hopeful. my progesterone suppositories weren't ready today, and the doctor sort-of-jokingly said he was mad at me for not calling him, because my progesterone would already be falling. he gave me a shot, and we tried another pharmacy.

he drew blood to check my hcg levels. if they're good, he'll do another sonogram in a week. if they're plateaued or dropped, it's over, and i guess he'll do a d&c. he said to call at 4:30 for my results.

2008-07-31T09:14:00.000-04:00

in 45 minutes

i don't think i want to go to this appointment. i'm afraid it'll be over. i don't want it to be over.

2008-07-30T20:42:00.002-04:00

it's been so long...and the longer i wait, the more daunting the task of catching up is. i'm going to do a lame catch-up post so i can get back to my regularly scheduled self-loathing.

-i've been eating normally for months now.

- i was approved for tenure. i was recommended, and the board voted to approve. once i work that first day back in september, i'll be officially tenured.

- we bought a house. we're closing any day now, but we've run into a complication (seller doesn't have a certificate of occupancy for the screened-in back porch, and he refuses to do the work/spend the money to get it up to code). it's annoying. but that's definitely not the thing that's weighing the heaviest on my mind....

-i'm pregnant. no exclamation point for that statement because, although this embryo is very very very much wanted and loved already, it seems to be about 50/50 that i'll miscarry. my progesterone went from 42 at 4 weeks pregnant to 16 at 6 weeks pregnant. it's supposed to go UP, not down. i bled a little bit (bright red) on monday. i went in for an ultrasound, and they got a sac that was a little bit small (but still within the margin of error) and a yolk sac (which is good). no heartbeat, but it's early. they don't know what's causing the bleeding. the doc's theory, based on the extremely high progesterone early on (and hcg....it was 656 at 15 days past ovulation and went to 1948 within 46 hours...it's supposed to double in 48-72 hours) is that i lost a twin. that would explain everything--the dropping progesterone levels, the less-sore boobs, the bleeding. (they also found a ruptured cyst on my ovary, but the dr. didn't even mention that when we talked). the doctor gave me a shot of progesterone and told me to go home and tape myself to the bed.

so i'm going in for another ultrasound tomorrow (and another shot, if my progesterone suppositories aren't ready yet). if they don't get a heartbeat (it's still early, but a heartbeat would REALLY make things look hopeful), he's going to check my hcg. if the sac has still grown, that'll be good. if the hcg isn't what it should be, then that means i'm going to miscarry.

there's really nothing i can do about this. i sat up today and took my cat to the vet, because i really don't think bedrest is going to save a doomed pregnancy. i hope it's not doomed though. i really really really want it to stay.

2008-04-13T21:46:00.006-04:00

my mom told me that i need to make a big list of things before doing any serious house-hunting. the list should contain three things: (1) absolute must haves, (2) things that would be nice but aren't required, and (3) things that are total dealbreakers.

i was thinking it might be interesting to do that for my life right now. like, today and tomorrow.

ABSOLUTE MUST-HAVES
a decent night of sleep
at least 1500 calories a day
something sweet to eat after dinner
tenure
quality time with my kitties
work on taking less sleep aids (or working my way down to just benadryl)
call that guy about the nyssma festival i can't judge TOMORROW
keep up with my efforts to be social and fit into society in a comfortable way

THINGS THAT WOULD BE NICE
8 hours of sleep
1800-2000 calories a day
tofutti bars after dinner
finding out this week for sure
30 minutes of interactive play each day
cold turkey on sleepy meds (ain't gonna happen)
decide whether or not i'll schlep out to manorville on saturday
give the apartment a really thorough cleaning over break
get rid of some more clothes
try not to so easily be plunged back into self-hatred or dissatisfied with what is meant to be a warm interpersonal intereaction.
change the pictures and lyrics on top of this blog.

NO NO NO NO WAY
stressing too much over how much sleep i get
less than 1500 calories a day
trying to skip dessert
not getting tenure (whether or not i find out this week)
going away friday without giving them daily workouts and snuggles
take something more than 5 days a week
judging the whole festival
giving up or backtracking on the progress i've made with social interactions

2008-03-24T16:21:00.003-04:00

i am fused out of iron
i haven't updated in a while. i think i was thinking about waiting around to get "the news," but that could be april 15 or earlier or, hell, even later if that's what they wish. so i'll update anyway. but i have now saved up money for the present if i get it.

i have gained a couple pounds (or maybe like 3) since i decided in january to try to recover. i'm having trouble not restricting now that i'm not taking remeron anymore. i told my doctor i just can't take it--not just because of the binging, but because i'd find myself binging on non-vegan things. i can handle eating 2 tofutti pops, but i have certain knowledge and pictures in my head that i can't undraw, so 10 cookies made with butter and eggs are neither safe nor morally okay with me.

i may take a remeron tonight.

i've been listening to menomena and MGMT a lot lately. i really appreciate that the lead singer of menomena actually enunciates final consonants. i get onto my kids (and the kids i judge for NYSSMA) about that all the time, and it's so rare in commercial music.

i took some pictures of my kitties today...i keep thinking "hm if i had my dream camera, i bet these would be incredible." if i had it and knew how to use it.

2008-02-24T20:47:00.002-05:00

so raw

i seem to be going through an extra-sensitive phase...which is extra-annoying, because i'm already too sensitive as it is. smart-aleck jokes annoy me...or remind me that i don't have any friends....or, WORSE, act as bizarre triggers.

my stomach has been bothering me, so it's been harder to stick to my meal plan. i feel really full randomly (i'll eat, feel hungry a couple hours later, and then feel really FULL an hour after that even if i haven't eaten anything, i'm having chest pains). i don't know if it's my GERD getting worse (nexium doesn't seem to help, and i can tell what i'm swallowing, and my voice is just a little hazy) or re-feeding stuff or something else. and i'm not sleeping...i woke up at 12:30 the other night, extremely nauseous. i took a meclizine. and then i was feeling really anxious last night (what if it happens again? what if this keeps getting worse and i start throwing up? what if i can't afford the pillcam so it's endoscopy or nothing?)....

maybe the chest pain is a little bit anxiety too...

so i gave in and took valerian, which helped! i got 8 hours of good sleep last night!

i was trying not to take anything over break, so that maybe my sleeping pills would start working again....i took remeron tonight, about a half hour ago. i'm crossing my fingers.

anyway, all of this is kind of freaking me out, and i have to weigh the benefits of actually eating so i gain (my weight is back down :( ) against the cost of eating and then refluxing (voice problems).

today was better though. not so much symptomwise, but moodwise. the sun was out, and i slept, and i had a really good "jog" on the treadmill (one of my motivations to keep going with the eating--i really want to work my way up to jogging/running)...

i guess i peaked a little early today, because i can't stop thinking about the stupidest smart comments...and feeling lonely...and afraid of failure tomorrow at work (and the next day and the next and the next). it would almost have been better to not have a vacation. but i felt optimistic when i woke up this morning, so maybe i'll be okay tomorrow. i've made sure to take my meds the last 3 days (i had completely blown it off for about a week before, and had gotten to be very inconsistent for weeks before that).

off to my book: a review copy of the wisdom of whores. i have accepted my affinity for non-fiction. i'll read just about anything that's nonfiction and enjoy it...at least i know what i'm getting (until 6:15 tomorrow).

2008-02-20T12:13:00.000-05:00

giving up already

i'm going back to bed.

2008-02-19T14:47:00.002-05:00

she's touching his hiney!!!!!

now she is curled up against my lap, and he is behind me sleeping.

i went to group last night, and it was safe enough. i'm managing to enjoy my vacation well enough...it's kind of boring, but my anxiety has been manageable. it's been a nice break. i haven't even taken any sleeping pills, which might mean that they actually work again after a 9-day break.

i'm working on running. er, jogging really. and my jogging is slow. right now it's more like high-impact walking at 4.2 mph, but i'm trying not to get down on how pseudo-running it is, because if i stick with it i'll hopefully be able to get there. i can't even jog 30 minutes. it's more like i jog 20 out of 30 minutes (with brisk walking for the rest), and i only job up to 10 minutes at a time. but that's how you're supposed to train. i'm not following any particular training plan (i.e. "5k in 6 weeks" or whatever), but just kinda listening to my body. and so far i'm not really focused on the calories as i'm exercising, so that's good.

so far.

2008-02-13T11:54:00.004-05:00

guilt

at some point--maybe when i was in my early 20s, i looked back on my life and realized that i have had a truly bipolar relationship with guilt. when i was little, i guess was conscientious, and addition to the normal things that a young perfectionist might feel guilty over (i.e., an a- on a book report that i didn't put my all into, mom crying etc.), i would feel tremendously guilty over tiny and/or random things. like, if someone tells a bad joke and no one really laughs, i'd feel terrible, and i'd work hard to convincingly laugh at it because i just couldn't bear to see someone stand alone.

i think the guiltiest i ever felt was the first time i ever wore a bra to school. and it's weird, because getting a bra and getting your period are (pardon the pun) red-letter days for a tween. i wanted it...in fact, my older best friend, heather*, would loan me a bra and we'd wear them for field hockey practice (i wore it secretly and kept it under my mattress until my brother told me he knew about it because heather told him about it. when i confronted her about it, she was completely unrepentant: "yeah i told him about it. he's your brother--he has a right to know!"

* in retrospect, i've realized that there is a good chance that my childhood best friend was a compulsive liar, and i'm starting to think that it messed me up a little. that or maybe her disloyalty...when i ran for student government secretary in 4th grade, and TIED with a 6th grader, she casually informed me that she was going to vote for me, but she didn't because the people around her were voting for dale. when i said, "oh that's okay, i'm just happy that i tied with a 6th grader!," she said, "GOD! you don't have to brag amy" and walked off in a huff. (when we had a run-off, i lost). but that's another post for another day.

from puberty onward...i ONLY experienced the random guilt, but it was powerful. when i made my mom cry, or she told me i made her life a living hell, i felt nothing. but if someone at school was saying that they like (insert band name, or article of clothing, or food), everyone else disagreed, and i failed to support the loner (whether or not i actually shared the opinion), i'd be consumed by guilt for days.

so on the one hand i was a psychopath but on the other hand i was very sensitive.

i don't remember much guilt in late adolescence/my 20s. i felt guilty about making my parents give/pay for a wedding. when i got to renfrew and realized how worried sean must be, i felt guilty.

all of this to say that my years-long guilt depression has swung to the other end, and i'm now in guiltmania. i can't get away from it...i can see that it crept up over the last couple of days, and now it's completely overwhelming. i can't manage it. i don't know what to do.

i've got the barely-contained anxiety about tenure. and then i have stress over group. last monday, i called one of the leaders to leave a message to explain my absence, and she answered the phone. (she NEVER answers the phone--she always gets back to me, but she never answers when i call). i couldn't not go...but then i went and regretted it. this monday, i said "enough! this is too much right now," and just didn't bother calling.

i don't feel guilty about skipping group, but i feel TERRIBLE about not calling.

then, yesterday, i canceled my individual session with that same group leader...like 2.5 hours before my appointment. i was getting a migraine...no bs, but i know how frustrating it is to have last-minute cancellations. she said she may have an opening at 4 today...but then one of my (thursday) private students called to ask if she could change her lesson to today, because she needs helps with something for a show she's in. i scheduled her for 4:30 today, precluding the possibility of therapy for this week.

i was dopey from the migraine meds, so i thought a sonata and melatonin would be enough to get me to sleep. i did sleep a bit, but then the cats were scrapping, and that had me all stressed out. i took another sonata at 2 am. next thing i know it was 3:30, and today was a really crazy day (teaching- and schedule-wise)...there's no way i could do it on little sleep. i called out sick--this is the first sick day i've taken all school year.

now, i have a student teacher who is getting observed today, and i'm not here to help with the computer stuff (this is only her 3rd week!). i emailed her detailed instructions for everything...but i'm such a jerk for this. i'm not even sick.

i told she she could cover lessons (i had this conversation with my dept chair a couple weeks ago, and she said i could get away with having a student teacher cover lessons solo...at least, i think it was my dept chair, not the other teacher in my building....but as usual my memory gets messed up on important stuff). my student teacher texted me this morning saying that the other music teacher said she can't be alone with students, so she canceled lessons. so now i feel like a jerk, and i'm freaking out dreading getting "reprimanded" by a colleague. i KNOW i had this conversation...but this has happened several times before...i'm told one thing, and then some time later (even a year or two later), i'm told the opposite.

so no i feel guilty for letting down my student teacher, for not actually being sick (i have off all next week! i should have just hung in there!!), and for asking her to do something that's not allowed.

this is unmanageable. i took a xanax that the doctor prescribed me a few weeks ago, and didn't do a THING. i can't live like this. it's like all my anxiety and guilt has taken a physical form, and it's too much. i don't know what to do. i can't continue feeling this way all the time...i'm sabotaging myself by my sketchy behavior today, and by having this sap away energy that i ened to put into improving my teaching so my career is not over. i really need help. no one can help me though. maybe i'll go to the gym and then take 2 (0.5 mg each) xanax and see if that helps. i just need a little break, to not care for an hour or so.

2008-01-21T21:05:00.001-05:00

no need for everyone else to jump in and save you from me. i hate other people having to save people from me--i'll save you. i give up, but at least i know you'll be okay. i'm out. i'm done.

2007-12-18T17:35:00.000-05:00

graham crackers...
....are too good. i have them with (soy)milk, not apple juice, but i still think i get some sort of regressive comfort from it. if i were bulimic, i would surely binge on them (with or without peanut butter).

okay, fine. i have binged on them before, but the two i had just now were divine, so they're on my mind.

i also had two vegan donut holes (labeled "gingerbread" donut holes, but they're actually plan). i think i get just as much enjoyment out of a graham cracker dipped in plain soy milk.

my concert is tonight, and i feel almost totally confident about it. the only thing i'm not confident about is the "behind the scenes" stuff. specifically, will i lose my voice? and if i do, is it okay, like a kid losing their voice from shouting at a football game, or is it catastrophic like it was 4 years ago? i'm still holding out hope that i won't even have to ponder those questions tomorrow. you never know. my voice seems to hold up a little better each year.

i also made a decision today that i'm proud of. a couple, actually. i turned down something that would have been fodder for my self-destruction, but i said, "no thanks--i'm full." good for me.

i'm actually looking forward to tonight--just the actual conducting part. getting 220 kids in place is stressful. but the 20-30 minutes of making music with them will be wonderful.

2007-12-16T21:42:00.001-05:00

eureka

that's it--i've got it. i lost a friend today. (that explains the single dream about losing a tooth, but not the others).

2007-12-16T21:12:00.000-05:00

i'm feeling so anxious lately, and i don't know why. the concert is tuesday--but it's not that. actually, i feel surprisingly confident and excited about it. the only tangible thing i can point to is my voice. i've been having symptoms. over the last couple of weeks, it's been foggier in the morning, and it seems to take longer to warmup. i know my voice, and i know what this means. it was quite tired by the middle/end of last week, but i still (over)sang friday night because i was getting paid to sing. i've been having a lot of "no talking" nights that don't end up that way, and i think i shouldn't have talked this weekend. i've also been having a lot of stomach pain. i had my nexium refilled, and i finally picked it up and took it today. but i constantly feel like there's a ton of mucus and my throat is dry (again, symptoms of GERD). and tomorrow i teach 6 periods, the last of which is with 153 kids in the gym and nowhere to put them (bleachers broken) except in lines on the floor, but i can't even get in there 8th period to set up.

so there is that. specifically, i'm terrified that i have soft nodules (which may have never gone away for all i know) that will turn to hard nodules this week:
http://www.med.nyu.edu/voicecenter/conditions/voice/vocal_nodules.html

i should scan and post pics of mine, but i'm hoping they're history that need not be (dug up or) repeated.

i've been having really repetitive dreams, and i can't make any sense of them. what are they trying to say? it makes me anxious.

i wish i could just take a sedative to give me a little break. i'd have a glass of wine, but that's makes the vocal cords more vulnerable to injury. i have been trying to get hold of my old psychiatrist, who is pretty generous with the script pad, but it's been phone tag, and he doesn't have a secretary to handle appointments. sigh.

i also feel myself running from the same old things i'm always running from: my tendency to fantasize about/fixate over changing the past, rejection, admonishment, wrapping my head around the truth of myself...

2007-11-25T20:57:00.000-05:00

i'm not even sure what i'll talk about, but i wanted to post today.

thanksgiving was okay...better than usual, even, perhaps.

i've been having some mood problems lately. i'll get to the point where i'm not sure what i'm going to do with myself, but then i'll start feeling better without knowing why/how. i'll be talking (against not wanting to talk) about how i don't have enough alone time...my thoughts and feelings rushing at me way too fast for me to process (or maybe even acknowledge). then, an hour or so later, i'll be fine--even chipper, talking about it unreluctantly (if that's a word) and not feeling the push/pull for this and that.

i don't know which is real. i don't know if the black mood is some simple biological thing (drop in blood sugar, caffeine level falling) or if that's the REAL thing. i know that some of the thoughts (or all of them) are attached to real feelings. that would mean the lift in mood (which lasts for hours at a time) is my brain's way of giving me a break, the way you come down with a bad cold as your body's way of shifting the focus from the real (emotional) pain to basic bodily functioning. i can't think of an explanation for the "what if" of the good mood being the real thing, but it's a possibility, so i'll leave it on the list.

i should go to bed.

2007-11-17T19:42:00.000-05:00

it's been 23 minutes since i took my axert, so i'm probably about 20 minutes away from the beginning of the relief of this migraine. there really is no rhyme or reason to them. i don't know why i have this one.

i also don't know why i've pooped like 4 times today, but i'm always glad to get stuff out of me (and also glad i decided the 100ish calories i save by taking laxatives weren't worth it for today at least).

i could try to go to bed now. i wish the tv in the bedroom worked. i used to put it on really quietly and put on a sleep mask, and then let the tv lull me to sleep. i have neither now, so i'm afraid i'd just lay there and get bored and end up back here. on the other hand, laying in the quiet/dark is always a good thing. once the meds kick in, i'll probably be pooped enough to fall asleep.

i guess i don't have anything of substance to say. i'm probably down to, like, 2 readers with the password and all...but i finally realized how stupid it is to not just put a password on this. even with the fake name....between my parents and the students (one recently found an "appropriate" but silly youtube video of me), it's just dumb to leave this totally public.

and now i feel like it's safe to post pictures! (i scoured my flickr account, but i don't really see anything that is both recent and worth posting. oh well).

i'm home alone. sean's up in new haven for the yale/harvard game. i went up with him last night, but i drove home this morning before the drinking/tailgating in the cold began. just not my scene. at first i was really happy (probably because i get much more hopeful for a couple hours after my morning coffee) and looking forward to being home with the cats, but now i'm bored and lonely and feeling sorry for myself. sigh. and thinking about how everyone else but me has friends. etc. etc. etc.

2007-11-04T20:25:00.000-05:00

i woke up at 2 am...oh, hey, that was the time change...after a bad dream. the dream wasn't awful, but i lost a tooth in it (a molar), and blood had poured out of my mouth. and i know those dreams are supposed to be bad--usually it indicates a very painful loss (all the more so if the tooth breaks--which, thankfully, it didn't). the tooth didn't actually come out, but it hurt quite a bit, and it also bled a lot. the root was still holding onto it, and i didn't know what to do.

anyway, because of this, i was anxious. i was even more so when i realized i was wide awake, and i associate being wide awake way too early with stomach viruses. so there i was with this feeling of impending doom. my kitty was sneezing a lot, too. she has only done so once since that episode, so i'm hoping it was just dust. she wasn't just sneezing...it was so intense that she vocalized with it. i can handle her being sick because i can administer liquid meds fairly easily..but if she passed it onto my boy, i'd be in deep doo-doo.

some time after 3:30, her warmth and snuggles and purring lulled me back to sleep.

i've been constructing a mental list of things i can't forgive myself for...it started coming together in list form because two of the victims of it posted on my wall today. okay, so here are the four things about which i still regularly must punish myself:

(1) teasing my best friend when he was just a pup. sick. you know...asking him if he wanted to go for a walk, just to giggle at him jumping around. firmly and seriously telling him to "come here" just to see him come over with his tail tucked. sick. sick.
(2) being way too strict when i was teaching at the catholic school. i had it in my power to make a stressful freshman year a bit less stressful, but i gave into the pressure (from fellow teachers and a weak administration) to act on the false assumption that the farther up your butt the stick is, the better a teacher you are. also, pushing my music on the girls. this is probably one of the things i manage to successful push out of my mind...or just chalk it up to more of me sucking.
(3) there was a girl who had a solo, but she rarely came to rehearsals. i kept letting another girl sing the solo, and she did it well, so i gave the solo to the 2nd girl. when girl #1 came back, she had a really compelling reason for her to have the solo (not in terms of why she hadn't been there, but....i don't want to air anyone's personal stuff, but it was very important to her). but it didn't seen fair to girl #2 to rescind the solo. i just wish i had handled the whole thing better and with more sensitivity.
(4) in a lame lame lame attempt to make a silly joke, i said something really mean an insulting to one of my students. she had applied to the ivy league school where my husband studied, but she didn't get in. she got into, and went to, another ivy league school that happens to be its rival. so i made some stupid joke about "if [she] had gotten into [the school my husband went to]." i meant it as a joke-y rivalry thing, but.....errrrgh. FAIL. also, extra-stupid because i didn't go to an ivy league school, so i have no ownership of this rivalry.
(5) my first year at the public school, there was a fist fight, and i very clearly and obviously took the side of the student who was more polite to me....instead of the one who is clearly more troubled (and probably had an awful homelife).

those are the highlights. i'm sure there are more.

If you listen to the stream / You may get thirsty
If you watch the dying tree / You may feel weak

But don't you feel sorry
Don't you get worried
Please don't at all
Don't you take pity
It's my own fault

If you watch the t.v. screen /You may feel hollow
If you hear the wedding vows / You may feel drunk

But don't you feel sorry
Don't you get worried
Please don't at all
Don't you take pity
It's my own fault

And there are better days
Then i'm on my way
Just follow the headlight

(Maria Tayler, "My Own Fault")

2007-10-21T16:43:00.000-04:00

Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
ugh. i don't like the way i feel.

it started, i think, as a thought. i don't have a best friend. i've been referring to random people as "my best friend" for years now, just because i feel a best friend is definitely a need in my life, but it's been a total joke, a lie. not a lie i tell to impress other people, but just because i need to have a best friend, and i don't, so saying i have one helps a little bit to fill that void.

other people my age have them.

so okay fine i have sean. and maybe that does count, and i'm ignoring it because then i'm supposed to be content, and i'm not. or maybe it doesn't cut it for me. i think it's better if one person in your life isn't expected to fulfill all of your needs.

and then i stop and look around me (not literally), and realize that i don't really even have friends. there are people i refer to as friends for the sake of convenience, but who would i call on a day like the ones i've been having lately? there is no one. who would i call if i felt like going out for girls night on the town (i don't know what the town is), or craft night, or whatever? i'm not saying it has to be girls...oh but it probably does.

i think the reason this is so intolerable these last couple of days is because my forum is down (not my forum--one i post on frequently). i started to make a thread about this on one of the other two i post on, but i rarely post on the one, and it would be sorta out of place (and probably awkward/tired on the other).

this is probably the best place to post this sort of thing anyway. i just feel like...i don't know, like i'm frozen on "pause" while all my peers are in play, and i'm watching them, but i'm stuck.

i have to start exercising, i decided. today. after i write this, i'm going to either the gym or the beach.

2007-10-20T22:20:00.000-04:00

i had the most lovely dream last night, and i can't believe i found myself spending the morning going over minor mistakes i made a good 10 years ago. yes, there were bad dreams after the good dream, but the dream was the perfect dream.

my boy bobo was happily playing chase with, and then snuggling with, my cats and myself. what a lovely, wonderful dream. he never met them, because he'd never been to new york. i didn't adopt little lord longtail until 2005, and i wasn't about to make babycakes go on a plane.

so what did i find myself ruminating over? first, it was rude things people said to me in college. and it happened ALL THE TIME. yes, i get it, i didn't fit with the conservative, college jen and joe crowd. i dressed a little different--but honestly not that much--and sort of did my own thing. but some people...one in particular, who was a "sister" in my professional (music) fraternity...would just make nasty comments. at the time, i really didn't give a crap. maybe this is triggered by reading on message boards of the nerve strangers have when it comes to commenting negatively on peoples' appearances, or maybe because a "friend" of one of my youngest students made a very nasty and blunt commentary on her appearance in the locker room just this week...like, i just wonder...at what point in these peoples' development did this kind of unsolicited, nasty, shallow evaluation become okay? and, more importantly, how did it become okay?

in my case, i was just remembering being on mini-"tour" in april or may with the chorale, and i was walking on the beach with some people. i had dyed my hair black that year. i was wearing a black crushed velvet skirt and i had a tank top on under something else, but i had taken the over-shirt off because it was so warm. and one of my "sisters" said, "uh, nice outfit, madonna." i don't know what i responded. maybe i laughed. i don't think i cared.

i spent a good 30 minutes this morning going over and over it, thinking about what i should have said...not a bitchy retaliation, but demanding to know where she got off giving me this critique.

and then i started thinking about that fraternity in general, and how i'm not perfect either....there was one time i was in charge of recitals and programs, and i really had no idea what to do other than make programs (no one had trained me or anything), so i failed to get the right equipment (2 pianos) for one of the performances. i basically fell out of the group after that. i think everyone hated me. maybe not that much...but not only was i the weird girl, but i was also an idiot.

the thing that really pisses me off is that i was probably smarter than any of the people who were nasty to me. but they'd never know that because i made such a stupid mistake.

in all of these situations where i didn't fit in, i can't get past my fantasy of going back and changing things. i wouldn't try to be more like them--that would be a futile exercise. i certainly wouldn't be more fiercely independent and rebellious...well....maybe.

what i would do is just be more quiet. think before i talk (although specific situations i can think of that made me cringe did, i believe, stem from that weird side effect i got when i first started prozac...where i'd just blurt out shit with no control over myself), listen more, and ask people more about themselves. everyone is self-centered, and, ultimately, wants to be asked about themselves. the way to extract that from people, and to get them to like you, is to do them that favor. also, i would have gotten sick earlier. i wish i had acted out all this stuff when i was still in college and the stakes weren't as high. also, it was the mid-90s, so healthcare probably would have supported a longer stay and stepping down in care. i feel like people wouldn't have been mean to me...made bitchy comments on what i wore, left dirty notes on my door accusing me and my roomate of being in a lesbian relationship, left a doll with a knife stuck in its genital area and a letter...if i had just been withdrawn. i feel like they would have held back. i was far too expansive, and i'm still living with the aftermath now.

2007-10-14T18:54:00.000-04:00

wow, i've had this tab open for hours. i know there was something i wanted to write about.

hm. guess i'll just kinda start: this is going to be a really busy week. i teach 6 periods on monday and wednesday, which is always draining and hectic. i also have private students on monday, thursday, and friday. wednesday i have my follow-up with the gyno.

i know they're not going to find anything. just more weird, unexplained bleeding. i mean that's mostly good, but it's also annoying.

also annoying is my reverse BDD. i bought these pajamas at target

and my hubris led me to get a boys' large rather than extra large. so now i have to exchange them. i mean, they're too short, not too narrow, but it still makes me "feel fat."

not fat enough to refrain from making vegan oatmeal raisin cookies and eating 3 of them (this after a burrito and chips from moe's), but fat enough to be irritated with myself.

my thumb is a MESS lately. that seems to be where i'm picking the most. gross. there's a stomach virus going around--you'd think that would stop me. maybe at work (but that's a big maybe) but not at home all day yesterday as i savored every minute of wallowing in loneliness. i arranged a good bit of radiohead's "let down" for 7th and 8th grade chorus, too, but i probably won't finish it. i feel like i'm pushing my music on the kids--the way i did when i taught high school. sure, a handful of kids were really grateful, but they would have found that music eventually anyway. i should have at least met them where they were at the time before shovelling my stuff down their throats.

i didn't go to group last week, and i really haven't given it that much thought. i mean, a lot of times the thought pops up, but i just kinda mentally shrug and decide to think about it later. i'm not sure if i'm going tomorrow. i mean, probably not, but maybe i guess. i'm torn between my desire to not be a total borderline drama queen and my desire to not force myself to go somewhere that i don't belong. you're supposed to go in and process it if you're going to leave group, but enough. i've been thinking about leaving for like a year and a half now. i've processed. i've even tried to resolve the feelings that i'm not like the other people in the group, i really don't have much in common with them, but i get completely blown off each time i try to work it out in group. that clash is starting to make me feel crappy about myself, and there doesn't appear to be much hope for me getting help in reconciling myself in group, so there's no point in continuing. time to get on with my life in whatever way i feel like. hm. eh, i'll decided tomorrow right before group. or i won't, and i'll just forget to go.

i've been having some social problems lately. i didn't go to the protest because i was fearful of going somewhere where i don't know anyone. i didn't go to homecoming because i don't have any friends in my school (wanh wanh wanh) to talk to as we walked. a former student that i've been talking to lately (she's all grown up and stuff) posted an open invitation to a lunch that she won, and i really wanted to go, but i thought i would be weird to go, and people would think i'm creepy. my husband and i were invited to his sister's place saturday for dinner to celebrate his brother's birthday. sean was out of town, so he told her i'd be going if i was feeling okay, but then i never heard anything about what time it was, so i took that as a sign that i was only invited if sean was going, and i spent my saturday evening shopping at fairway and reading bust.

dear lord i'm pathetic. but i'm laying it all out there. the best i can hope for is for other people to know that i fully acknowledge and take responsibility for how awful i am. and i do take a LITTLE bit of pride in knowing that i do something sort-of well.

2007-10-08T21:10:00.001-04:00

i've been putting off an update for so long because i only get the urge to blog when i'm feeling whiney, but at this point there are sorta concrete events that i feel i should enumerate before going back to the same old same old. so here's a list of things that have happened since the last post:

- school started back, with me being nearly terrified about my lack-of-emotional-preparedness.
- i adjusted to my schedule and re-located my energy for teaching (yay!)
- i had my first observation, and it went very well.
- my husband was laid off. i worried that "it is happening again" (he was laid off a few months before i was excessed before, so....).
- i'm doing a fairly good job of putting things aside rather than running myself into the ground trying to be perfect at work.
- husband started doing more housework, making me feel guilty and lazy (but grateful to him).
- i had my period for 4 out of 6 weeks, and my cycles magically went from 35 to 28 days, so i had blood tests and sonograms to see what's up. my guess? nothing. so i can either accept my weird body or try the pill again (and endure the migraines).
- i consider myself in recovery now, as i'm not restricting, exercising, or taking laxatives. as feared, the borderline tendencies / anxiety are coming to the surface, resulting in urges to si at the most random times.
- so far my voice is holding up (knock on wood).
- still no therapist or psychiatrist, but i'm taking my gp-prescribed prozac pretty regularly.
- i dyed my hair dark (as close to black as you can get without being actual black). sean says i look like snow white, because he's cute and overlooks all that isn't good when it comes to me. (he wants to have surgery to correct his nearsightedness, but i'm in deep doo-doo should he ever get lasiks for his metaphorical eyes).

okay so that catches me up. back to our regularly scheduled pity party, i suppose.

2007-08-20T13:33:00.001-04:00

the good news is that i did get a vacation effect, especially for the first few days. i was comfortable in a bikini (!) and able to relax and eat and enjoy. the body shame (etc. etc) started to creep in the last 2-3 days.

the bad news is that it's completely gone now, and i just don't know what to do with myself.

2007-08-08T15:56:00.000-04:00

i think i'm figuring out over these last few months that, actually, i'm fine.

i'm not saying i'm fine mentally--i'm saying that i don't actually have an eating disorder. i think it must be some stupid borderline thing. i've been at this for 5 years, and i have no "medical complications." my bones are fine (i think--at least, 2 years ago they were), my heart is fine (as of 1 year ago), and i get my period almost every month. my weight is not so low that it alarms my group leaders or doctor. in fact, the first thing he said when he saw me today was "you look good."

i'm not saying this means i have to quit group--i do definitely have major social issues. but i'm not actually anorexic. that's the sad, pathetic truth...sad and pathetic because i find anorexia to be much more palatable than just plain old depression and/or borderline personality disorder and/or just plain old a mental hypochondriac.

i disgust myself, but this truth has been eating at me like a chore you put off, but it's present enough to ruin enjoyment of whatever you're doing to procrastinate.

2007-08-01T13:31:00.000-04:00

Sent at 1:42 PM on Wednesday
Sean: you there?
me: yeah.
Sent at 1:45 PM on Wednesday
Sean: are you okay?
i have to do QB but I love you and I'm worried about you today
me: what are you worried about? what can happen to me when i'm stuck inside my house alone like every other day?
i'm not going to get hit by a car!
i'm not going to get into a car accident on my way to an imaginary social event!
Sent at 1:50 PM on Wednesday
Sean: I don't want you to cut or restrict or take "laxies" as the kids say
Sent at 1:51 PM on Wednesday
me: eh.

but at least i have my thai fisherman pants, and my house is clean. i should do laundry, but i don't feel like it. i like the feeling of having things done (especially "clean" things), but i hate actually doing them.

i don't know what to do about a situation with a friend...can i call her a friend? i'm afraid if i do nothing she won't know i give a crap, but i'm afraid if i do something she'll be upset. and i fear that this phonecall would require an assertiveness that i don't possess. i don't know if doing something or not doing something would minimize my asshole-ish role in things, or if it even matters at all what i do. my first instinct was to hurry and DO SOMETHING, and then when it came down to it i lost my nerve. i want to do the right thing, but i can't trust my instincts.

2007-07-27T23:17:00.000-04:00

i should save this post for 5 am when the old "SSRI insomnia" sets in. i decided to take rather than waste the good ol' prozac that has been sitting around my apartment. i need something, and it's here, and i know i can tolerate it. honestly, do i think it works? a little. but once i adjust to it, the side effects are minimal, and i can suddenly flake out or decide to stop taking it without worrying about nasty withdrawal effects (hello, lexapro!).

so now i'm having trouble falling asleep (not terrible--if i take the max doses of melatonin and valerian, i can fall asleep) and then between 5 and 8 am. last night, we went to bed at 12:00. i was awake at 1:15, but i don't think it was too long before i fell asleep, then i was up from 5 until about 8, then i slept until 9:45.

tonight i took remeron, which got me thinking about remeron, which prompted the following boring walk down psychotropic memory lane:

[b]1995[/b] (sophomore year of college) i get hit with my first bout of major depression (as opposed to the more mundane and low-key dysthymnia which i suffered from since age 11) and i am prescribed a small dose of prozac by my GP to help decrease suicidal ideation. it's okay--once i get past weeks 2-4, i'm fine. i just have to watch the wine, as it decreases my tolerance, and deal with sexual side effects. it's fine.

i'm off and on until...

[b]2000[/b] another DOOZY of a major depressive episode. i go in asking for serzone, but he has me try remeron first. i take it, and i cannot keep my eyes open even while standing up at work. it's as if i've gone to work drunk. i think i took it twice and then said "no more."

then, he gives me serzone. i swear it made me WORSE. i went freaking PSYCHOTIC that spring.

then sinequan (which makes me fall asleep when i sit down for long periods, but that was tolerable) and paxil (which i took for, like, a week, because it made me hot and oddly itchy on the arms).

i stick with the sinequan, and the psychiatrist who was later charged with plotting to murder patients, for a while.

at some point (maybe january 2002?) i see a park ave psychopharmacologist, who diagnoses me as bipolar type II. he prescribes me halcion for sleep (GOD BLESS YOU), lexapro, and neurontin to stabilize my mood.

i see some woman psychiatrist who is on my insurance. she gives me wellbutrin. it makes me anxious, unable to sleep, and unhungry (yay). i must have tried one or two other drugs, because when i called her to report the wellbutrin problems, she says "why don't you go off meds? if none of them work for you..." i drop her.

i go back to lexapro and neurontin, and that's what i take in inpatient at renfrew. i'm discharged to a new shrink who won't give me wellbutrin. he tries to get me to take cymbalta, but i'm afraid it'll make me sick, and also i don't ever want to go through withdrawal again.

i see a different one and take prozac plus a small dose of wellbutrin. read what you will into that.

now i'm back on prozac, and i'm supposed to take remerong at night, but it makes me binge, so i don't like to take it.

but i did 30 minutes ago, and now i go night-night.

2007-07-24T23:27:00.000-04:00

did you hear about this whole "mayans have the end of the world set for december 21, 2012" thing? jed told me about it today--to which i responded something along the lines of "eff recovery, i just have to wait out the next five years." anyway, if you google "mayan 2012" a bunch of stuff will come up.

oh, hell, the least i could do is provide a clickee:
here's one
and another
and one more to satisfy my OCD thing with the number 3

i think it's neat that they tracked venus.

i'm still not 100% okay after the kitty thing. i didn't even post about this, but my boy was fine by late friday night, but my girl was clearly feeling awful by late friday night. she was moving r e a l l y slowly, and her tail was tucked, and her fur was disheveled. i thought maybe she was going to vomit, but she didn't. when i picked her up, she whined, which she very rarely does (and even then, it's usually if i caught her off guard or something). i didn't sleep friday night. i had to keep checking on her. i was determined to not just make her go back to the doctor, though...maybe she was just sore?

the vet called at 9 saturday morning to check on my boy, and i told her about lucy. she said i could give her one of the prednisones to take care of the aches. i didn't because (1) she was a LITTLE better, (2) she was eating and going to the litterbox, and (3) prednisone is a really nasty drug that i'd rather not give them if it's avoidable. she was a little better, too. she wasn't moving as slowly. she still had no interest in being pet, but she seemed a little better. sunday she was back to her lovely happy self. i know because i went to check on her at 4 am when my boy woke me up, and she was sitting up like a little lady, and she mushed against me when i pet her.

this is the funny thing: my girl wakes us up every morning. every morning between 4:30 and 6:30 (maybe 7 on a weekend), she meows and parades around the bed to wake us up. on saturday and sunday mornings, we were woken up by felix's beautiful and sweet cooing. i couldn't believe it. and then on monday, it was back to normal with my little girl waking us up. that's so sweet!!!

i still feel pretty okay about him--with, of course, the residue of knowing that i have to live with that countdown in the back of my mind. the countdown i had with bobo... from the time he was a puppy, i just KNEW it would be 13 years. i would catch myself thinking "wow, i only have 11 more years with him."

this time around, it's not as specific. i don't have a time frame in mind--just a dread because of felix's heart murmur, and the fear that something will go wrong with my girl. i keep looking at her breathing. is it too fast? is she using her abdominal muscles too much? is that fast, or is she just sniffing? is that purring? is she purring because she's happy or because she's sick?

so that pretty much catches people up on that situation. i don't like this feeling. i love them so much. i was FINE up until this point. i took them to the vet, i had a "it's for their own good" attitude, and i was resolute when we adopted him (they found the murmur the day before i adopted him) that we'd just make things happy and comfortable for him for however long we had. i'd even talk about my "next" adoption. but now...they're really my babies. i'm 31 and no closer to motherhood than i was at 21. these are my children.

i kind of look forward to winter because they spend more time in the bedroom in the winter. they'll both sleep on the bed. it's so cozy.

of course, i have to go back to work to get there. and i'm not ready. although, you know what? i'm magically a little more ready than i was a week ago. i started looking at pieces to order (which would be REALLY FUN if i didn't have a budget to stick to!!!) and bought the sheet music for three songs i might arrange:

- "joy to the world" by three dog night (there is an SAB arrangement, but i don't like it...i want the boys and altos to get the melody for most of the song). i was thinking it would be fun to end the winter concert with this. y'know, just put the title and arranger on the program, so people would expect the christmas song...

- "god only knows" by the beach boys. i just really like it. also, the vocals are in a nice high tenor key which is really conducive to middle school male voices.

- "someone saved my life tonight" by elton john. i just really like it, and ditto for the range of the melody.

so that's movement, right? i should have had my music order done for july 1 to ensure that i'd HAVE music for the beginning of the school year, but i didn't, so now i'm imposing a july 30th deadline.

one other note: it seems that the more time i spend thinking about recovery, the easier it is to restrict. the more time i spend thinking about restricting, the more i eat. i'm not implying causality--just correlation. i am, as my group therapists would say, "being curious about it." i'll sit there drinking coffee until 2 pm reading LJ recovery communities and planning mealplans and whatnot. i don't get it.

2007-07-20T22:31:00.000-04:00

what an incredibly stressful day.

i couldn't sleep last night, worrying about getting the kitties into their kennels for their checkups, and what if something is wrong with them? also, please understand that this is the subject of fairly regular nightmares. i have a nightmare maybe twice a month about needing to get them into their kennels for some emergency, and i can't, or they get outside...

so it was really hard. we had to take apart the bed (where felix was hiding), towel him, get hissed at...and then i had to listen to them cry and see them pout for the drive over and the 60+ minute wait.

while i was in the waiting room, a woman came out crying, and i knew. i wanted to go talk to her, to listen or let her know that i know how she feels--but right after is not the time. i was fighting back tears as she walked out with the empty carrier.

so they got in, and the calico girl is good. my boy, though, still has a mild heart murmur. it's no worse than when i adopted him 2 years ago--which is great, but, as the doctor pointed out, cat heart disease goes from "fine" to "fatal" with no warning. the vet tech was so nice--he actually carried the HUGE carrier that the shelter had given me (felix was notoriously hard to kennel) across a busy street to the car for me.

so we got home, i released them, and things were right. first, my girl was being kind of mean to him. i let her sniff the bag in which i keep my valerian pills, and she mellowed out. but the boy wasn't right. he was restless, he couldn't settle down anywhere for more than a minute, whiney (he is not normally a talkative cat), and moody (smushing us one minute, hissing the next...again, he only hisses at us when he's cornered and about to go in the kennel). then i noticed how fast he was breathing. his respiration rate was 100 breaths per minute. then i noticed he was breaking into a real pant (mouth open and all), so i called and left a message with the vet. then i called the emergency pet line, and they said to take him to the vet that he saw earlier that day, because he might be having an allergic reaction to the vaccine.

then he started wheezing (or maybe it was a furball type of thing) and he vomited. i called the vet back again and they said to bring him right in.

so then we had to get this extremely high-strung, kennel-phobic, and now ill cat into his kennel. i'll spare the details, but it got done. they took him right into the vet.

the vet now thinks he may have asthma (his lungs sounded hard), and that he was having an attack. she said that the only way to know for sure would be to do an xray, which would mean sedating him (which wasn't safe) or not sedating him (which would be too much for him, as a bad asthma attack can actually kill a kitty). she gave him a prednisone shot and then asked me to stay there for a half hour and talk to so we could see if he'd calm down. on the phone, i had practically begged her to sedate him, but she wouldn't because of his heart murmur. so for the next half hour i talked to him, pet him through his cage, and tried not to cry thinking about how i'd manage taking proper care of a cat with a medical condition that is exacerbated by getting treatment.

he wasn't getting any better when the vet tech stopped in, so she said they'd stop right back in after they perform a euthanasia (which they did in the adjoining room with the door not even all the way shut, but the person wasn't back there crying or anything--which means that i need to find out if they allow that because i insist on being there but anyway i hope that isn't an issue for such a long time). he seemed to get a BIT better, so she said to take him home and keep him kenneled for another half hour or hour so i could watch him (and easily get him to the emergency vet if he got worse). his tongue stayed nice and pink, which meant he didn't need oxygen.

as soon as i left to go pay the pill, my husband called to me that he was wailing and panting again. i got the doc back, and she said to just get him out and don't worry about the bill. we brought him home, and he started fighting to get out of the cage and crying.

oh yeah, i almost forgot: she worked at the shelter where he lived for 4 years, and she remembered that there was one cat there that was so hard to kennel that he, in her words, "literally acted like he was dying," so the doctors had to go from the clinic to the shelter to treat him. she couldn't remember if it was him, but i think it kind of adds up:
1 - when i told his foster mom that i didn't require a pre-adoption visit, she audibly breathed a sigh of relief and said, "oh thank god. he's SO hard to get in his kennel. he broke his collard last time..."
2 - the shelter workers told me he really hates his kennel, and
3 - they GAVE me (free of charge) a kennel that was clearly made for a large dog when i adopted him, saying that they hoped he'd handle that a little better.

i think he might have been that cat.

so i called the vet, and she said let him out. and he calmed down. he relaxed, slept, groomed quite a bit, slept some more, ate a little, drank a little water, and came over for no less than THREE smushing sessions. his breathing gradually slowed down and became less labored.

so now i'm hoping it's just the kennel anxiety, and that he doesn't have asthma at all, because asthma would require more trips to the vet. the vet said something about home visits--they do occasionally do them, and she's REALLY sympathetic to his situation, as she knew him the 4 years he was at the shelter. i don't care what the cost is--this is how we're going to do this (as much as it is possible).

they're both extremely sleep kitties. poor things.

i'm so tired, but i bet i won't sleep much tonight. i bet i'm going to keep checking on him. i can't believe how trusting he is already--i thought this was going to be a real setback. i'm trying not to think too much about my fears about what the future holds, because there's very little i can do about it. i love them so.

rest up, pretty girl.

rest up, little man.

it's okay. mommy's here.

2007-07-19T23:20:00.000-04:00

i'm going to postpone the "i hate myself blah blah blah" stuff for now and write about what i can't get out of my mind.

okay. my calico was supposed to go for a checkup last september, and i never took her. i don't know why--as sad as it is to hear her cry in her kennel, i can get her in it. my white kitty was supposed to go for a checkup in february (and a heart sonogram a long time ago) and i never took him. then their clinic closed, which led to even MORE procrastination. a friend's talk of getting a cat made it hard for me to avoid thinking about it--it's summer vacation, there's no excuse--so i found a new vet and got a copy of their records from the clinic.

my husband is working from home, so he'll help me wrangle them and get the kennels into the car.

oh--i forgot to mention. my calico goes in a little kennel. the boy goes in a HUGE kennel that's made for a good-sized dog. he was so notoriously hard to get into the kennel that the shelter GAVE me this huge thing when i adopted him. i think that, with great difficulty, i can carry it short distances, but i'm not quite sure what i'm going to do. (maybe put the little one in the waiting room and then go fetch him).

i'm feeling SO anxious and nervous and sick and guilty about this. what if we can't get them in the kennels? it's a real possibility. sean insists that he WILL succeed, but it's really hard and so stressful. i can't stand seeing them pant and hiss and then hearing lucy cry and wail in her cage.

i'm extra-whiny today. but this is really stressing me out.

this has got to be at least a LITTLE easier to read than the usual crap right?

i've reached hating-myself saturation, by the way. i can't live with this anymore. but first i need to get this vet checkup out of the way.

pray that i didn't do any damage by skipping a checkup--especially with my little boy's heart. the day we adopted him, at age 4, they found a heart murmur. a sonogram a month later revealed everything was okay but there was some...errgh i forget the word...that may mean problems could develop later on. that was september 05. i was supposed to do a followup 9 months later, and i didn't. gah. there's just no excuse...

i want to end on a positive note. isn't THIS amazing? i looked at the pictures--just wonderful.

2007-07-19T22:48:00.000-04:00

http://longislandpress.1upprelaunch.com/main.asp?SectionID=2&SubSectionID=2&ArticleID=12699

"Sick Puppies"
Killers At Large In Brentwood

Christopher Twarowski with Timothy Bolger

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Shortly after surgery, Maximus sleeps in a drug-induced coma. He died hours later.
The wooded path in Brentwood where a dog was chained and set on fire--and Oscar Cruz was bludgeoned. Cruz died from his injuries this past June. Both crimes remain unsolved.

Special thanks to Alicyn Leigh, Long Island Press Pets columnist

Oscar Cruz was brutally attacked in a wooded, vacant lot in Brentwood last September, and not much attention was paid, even after he died this past June from his injuries. But when a dog, Maximus, was tortured and torched in that same lot, people rose up in arms, raising money, determined to find the killer or killers. Perhaps the sick individuals who committed these crimes are one and the same, but even if not, they have much the same pathology in common. And, they are on the loose.

Maximus snored uneasily. Wrapped in green bandages and covered in blankets, the 2-year-old pit bull mix laid unconscious on the floor of a shower-like chamber at the Veterinary Medical Center of Long Island (VMCLI) in West Islip on the afternoon of July 16. Maximus had just come from yet another operation. It was the fourth day at the center, and the fourth day surgeons cut away damaged tissue from his charred skin. Sodium chloride dripped through intravenous tubes into his bloodstream. A large round vent brought him warm air. Maximus was in a drug-induced coma.

The dog suffered from second- and third-degree burns on more than 60 percent of his body. His eyes were burned. The inside of his mouth was burned. He had puncture wounds on his neck. By the time a worker at the Town of Islip Animal Shelter found him-along a narrow, partially paved trail through an overgrown, wooded lot in Brentwood-Maximus was covered in maggots.

Someone had chained the dog to a tree, tortured him, doused him with gasoline, and set him on fire-leaving him to die.

"I just started crying when I saw him," says Lynda Loudon, head of the emergency department at VMCLI and Maximus' chief surgeon. "It was horrible. I started crying because he rolled over on his back and wagged his tail for me to rub his belly. He's a gentle soul, very sweet. He still trusts all of us, even though someone did this horrible thing to him."

Medical bills were already at about $4,000. Doctors estimated an additional $4,000. They teamed up with Dori Scofield, executive director of Save-A-Pet Animal Rescue and Adoption Center in Port Jefferson Station to help raise funds-Loudon has been footing the bills out of her own pocket. The staff was optimistic, hopeful Maximus would make a full recovery and eventually be put up for adoption.

This was not to be.

"Maximus," as Loudon renamed him, to reflect his strength (the dog's real name is still unknown since no owner has stepped forward to claim him or report him missing) succumbed to his wounds around 1 a.m. on July 17. There was just too much damage done to the dog's internal organs from the fire. The dog could not recuperate. Those responsible for torturing Maximus are still at large. There is a $5,000 confirmed bounty on their heads, which may climb to as much as a $20,000 reward for information leading to the culprit's (or culprits') arrest and conviction.

"We want them bad," says Chief of Department Roy Gross of the Suffolk County Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA). "We want to catch the person or persons responsible for this heinous act. And we're going to do everything that we can do to put whoever's responsible behind bars where they belong. They do not belong on the street."

Wanted

The torture inflicted upon Maximus was the very same type of crime that resulted in the drafting of the New York State law officials hope to prosecute the dog's torturers under. Nicknamed "Buster's Law," after a Schenectady teenager doused an 18-month-old tabby cat named Buster in kerosene and lit it on fire in 1997, the law, passed two years later, made it a felony to commit aggravated cruelty to animals. "Aggravated cruelty" is defined in the law as "conduct which is intended to cause extreme physical pain or is done or carried out in an especially depraved or sadistic manner." Those responsible for chaining, then torching Maximus face charges of aggravated cruelty to animals, a felony punishable by up to two years in prison and/or a $2,500 fine.

"This is about as bad as it gets," says a choked-up Gross, who has been with the SPCA for more than 20 years. "It's a totally unjustified act of animal cruelty against an innocent animal. There's absolutely no justification for something like this, whatsoever-that somebody can possibly get any kind of pleasure in watching this animal suffer..."

The agency has made catching those responsible a "top priority," according to Gross. The Suffolk County SPCA consists of about 30 peace officers and about the same number of investigators. Many have law enforcement backgrounds and most are volunteers. A team of agents are hitting the pavement in Brentwood to question residents and disperse fliers announcing the reward. The Suffolk County Police Department and the Suffolk County D.A.'s office are also assisting, he adds. The SPCA office has been "inundated" with calls from people who want to donate more reward money, even from out of state. Whatever funds come in will go to whomever gives the tip that leads to the arrest and conviction of those responsible.

"They're sick, sick puppies," says Save-A-Pet's Scofield. "I wouldn't even want them doing community service for an animal shelter. I'd want them to serve some good time in jail. They shouldn't be on the street. With this kind of a mind? What kind of people are we letting out, walking around our neighborhood?"

ANIMAL ABUSE

Animal abuse can range in level of severity, from people who don't know how to properly care for their animals to cases such as Maximus'. Gross tells the Press the Suffolk County SPCA handled 1,912 cases last year. Most were neglect cases, and the majority didn't result in arrests. However, he explains, crimes as extreme as what happened to Maximus unfortunately do occur. He recalls a case last summer, in which someone locked a cat in a cage, weighed it down with rocks, and tossed it in a lake. A reward was also offered in that case. It remains unsolved.

On Long Island, animal abuse doesn't end at the Suffolk border. In Nassau, it's actually on the rise, according to Jim Dunn, assistant chief of the law enforcement division at the Nassau County SPCA. Dunn says his office gets about 50 calls a week, ranging from neighbors calling to report dogs left outside with no food or water to dogfighting. Sometimes veterinarians report the most extreme cases. Last year, the agency issued about 200 violations, explains Dunn.

As in Suffolk, the majority of cases in Nassau County are of neglect. About 10 percent of those cases, however, says Dunn, are extreme. One such case happened last year, he says, when the Nassau SPCA recovered 62 cats from a single house. When agents arrived, they found the cats mutilating each other. Some were dead. It took four days to round them all up. Dunn says he's seen animals shot with bows and arrows. He is currently working a case in which a 2-year-old rottweiller had a collar embedded in its neck.

The specific dynamics of an animal abuse investigation by the SPCA varies, depending on the situation. Procedure adapts accordingly. Agents get called to a house on suspicion of a possible violation against an animal. If they find something, they could issue a Notice to Comply, instructing the owners to correct the situation. They return at some point-again, individual incidents dictate when-to check on whether the pet owner complied. If the problem has not been remedied, the agents could issue a summons. Based on the severity of the infraction and the information relayed to the D.A.'s office, the judge will rule with either a fine or a stricter sentence. If the SPCA finds an extreme situation, they can take immediate action. Agents can make arrests. They can also execute search warrants.

According to Dunn, investigators don't take DNA samples or test for fingerprints at a crime scene unless a human being is involved as a victim. And when there are no witnesses who are willing to come forward, he says, the investigation can be tough. But catching the abusers doesn't just help animals, explain both Gross and Dunn, but humans as well.

"When you have a case like that [Maximus], it's not just the animal being tortured and set on fire," Dunn says. "Time and time again, that's a prelude to a serial killer. So it goes much deeper than that. Also, since we are considered a first-responder, we get calls for people beating their animals. And when we get there, I guarantee it, they're either beating their kids or beating their significant other as well."

SPCA agents are trained to look for signs of criminal activity and abusive behavior when responding to a call.

HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

The Press has learned that the wooded area where Maximus was discovered is no stranger to criminal activity, according to some neighbors. Secluded and overgrown, it stretches three blocks, from Apple Street through Sycamore Street to Peach Street. A narrow, partially paved walkway cuts through brush and assorted rubbish. It seems to be an unfinished extension of Mayflower Avenue. Children play nearby.

"It's like a breeding ground for criminals," says David Givens, 30, who lives across the street from where Maximus was set aflame. The path snakes adjacent to his home. "That's a dangerous area to be in."

Givens isn't surprised that something bad has happened there. In fact, says the Brentwood parent, "There's always something going on in that path." He says that people come from "all around" to sit in the woods and do drugs. He says children ride bicycles through there. He adds that cars race up and down the block at high speeds and come close to hitting the children-alleging he's even witnessed a little girl get struck by one. A father of a 3-year-old daughter, Givens says he must frequently come out to the section of the path that runs adjacent to his home on Sycamore to chastise groups of men and women congregating in circles amid the trees-sometimes sitting on beat-up couches-who continuously use the area to smoke marijuana.

A visit by Press reporters discovered a litany of evidence to back up his claims. Used condoms and condom wrappers lie among empty beer and liquor bottles, broken glass, spare tires and engine parts. Graffiti tags are painted on a wooden fence separating an adjacent home. Dense weeds reach several feet into the air and exude a putrid odor. Old, yellow police tape is strewn beneath underbrush, the remains of an earlier incident. Cars rocket past.

This was the last place Maximus saw before his eyes were burned with fire and he collapsed, dying. It was also the last place Oscar Cruz ventured before he collapsed on a nearby front lawn, severely bludgeoned, his untimely death to come nine months later.

Besides the drugs, sex and vandalism that has plagued the area for "years and years," says Givens, was the murder that took place there.

On Sept. 10, 2006, Cruz, 28, of 95 Cocoanut St. in Brentwood, and another man, were brutally assaulted in the same area where Maximus was tortured. Cruz was discovered by a resident on the front lawn of 84 Apple St., which is adjacent to the wooded path. He lived just a block away. According to Det. Lt. Jack Fitzpatrick, commanding officer of the Suffolk County Police Department Homicide Squad, Cruz "suffered a significant head injury."

"It was multiple attackers," he says, wielding "some sort of blunt object."

Cruz was taken first to Southside Hospital in Bay Shore, but then was transferred due to the seriousness of his brain injury to A. Holly Paterson Extended Care Facility in Uniondale, where he died June 17. The unsolved assault is now an open homicide investigation. There is currently a $2,000 reward for information about the case, the standard for a homicide, and much less than the reward in the dog's case.

Givens was puzzled how the death of a human being in the same location garnered minimal coverage, both by investigators and local media. He says he was only visited by one police detective for the Cruz case, and no media, but that his visit by the Press was about his fifth inquiry about the dog. He alleges other media outlets aren't interested in the unsolved murder there when he tells them about it-they just want to know about Maximus.

"A human being dies on the path. It draws no attention. But a dog...

"If a human death isn't enough, maybe the death of a dog is enough to spark an interest in getting something done around here," he continues.

"It's tragic either way," adds Givens. "It's sickening to hear that somebody would do this-burn a dog alive?"

Givens would like to see the lot cleared out and completely paved over. Until then, he says, bad things will continue to happen there.

Help might be on the way. Suffolk County Legis. Ricardo Montano (D-Central Islip), whose jurisdiction is Brentwood, said he would be looking into both matters when reached by the Press and informed of the situations. Montano says he will be checking with the police about Cruz, knowing it is an active investigation. He also says he will meet with residents and police about the wooded lot.

"I'd like to see where the police are at with the [Cruz] investigation," he says. "Obviously our first step is that whoever is responsible for this is apprehended... Once we have that, we can look at the number of complaints in that area, the type of activity, and then take action appropriate."

Montano was out of town when contacted by the Press and was unaware of what happened to Maximus.

"It's just outrageous," he says. "That's the product of a sick mind."

Givens wonders whether Cruz' bludgeoning murder and Maximus' torture might be linked. Det. Fitzpatrick says there's no obvious link to Maximus' torture, nor a motive for Cruz' beating, but they're looking for tips from the public to help solve the case.

KILLERS ON THE LOOSE

While as of presstime there are currently no suspects in either case, there may be some insight into the personalities of those responsible for torturing Maximus. Experts agree that people who abuse and/or torture animals are most likely going to do the same to other human beings.

"[It's] a good predictor of abusive people," says Sergei V. Tsytsarev, Ph.D., professor of psychology at Hofstra University who specializes in forensic psychology. "It is a very good predictor of whether it's likely to happen in the future."

According to Tsytsarev, there are many variables that dictate the level of pathology the torturer has, from his or her age to whether the crimes were committed alone or in a group environment.

"When people torture animals to this extent, maybe at ages like 10 and 14, the likelihood for this thing to reoccur in the future is very high," he explains. "And what happens is they become desensitized to doing this kind of thing. And moreover, some of them, they derive some gratification, some emotional gratification, even pleasure, from doing that."

NO STONE UNTURNED

Gross says there are no specific suspects in Maximus' case at this time. Neighbors and workers at the homes surrounding the path nearest to where Maximus was tortured say they do not know anything about the incident when visited and questioned by the Press.

Givens, the Brentwood parent who lives across the street, is reluctant to speculate. He does suggest, however, that the location would possibly indicate someone who knew the area, such as local kids.

The gentle demeanor of the dog and the crime's location might also suggest the crime was perpetrated by someone who knew the dog and was familiar with the area. But nobody with any information about the dog's identity has stepped forward.

"It's just evil," says emergency doc Loudon. "You have to be evil to do something like that.

"These are the types of people that would do it to other people," she continues. "You hear about people abusing animals and later on abusing people and killing people. That's what scares me, is that unfortunately, these people are out there."

For Gross, catching those responsible for torturing Maximus is personal. A devout animal lover, the SPCA chief lost a special dog of his own. On June 5, "Cody," a golden retriever, who Gross describes as being his "best friend," passed away after more than 12 years. Gross took Cody everywhere. The dog rode with him on his motorcycle. He was the Suffolk SPCA's mascot. Cody went to nursing homes and schools to help educate people and comfort them. The canine accompanied the Suffolk County SPCA to Ground Zero and served as a therapy dog for search and rescue teams there in the wake of 9/11. An angry Gross calls what was done to Maximus a "barbaric act" that will not go unanswered.

"It hits home," he says. "I lost sleep over it. This is one of the cases that will haunt me for a long time. To think about how that animal suffered."

Gross is appealing to the public for help.

"We're going to do whatever we have to do," adds Gross. "I know somebody saw something."

Suffolk County Detectives are asking anyone with information regarding Oscar Cruz' murder to call Crime Stoppers at 800-220-TIPS or the Homicide Squad at 631-852-6392. All calls will be kept confidential. There is a $2,000 reward. The Suffolk County SPCA is asking anyone with information about Maximus to please call 631-382-SPCA. All calls will be kept confidential. There is a $5,000 reward. Anyone who would like to make donations to defray the cost of Maximus' medical treatment is asked to call Save-A-Pet Animal Rescue at 631-473-6333 or visit saveapetli.net. Those interested in making donations to the Suffolk County SPCA can call 631-382-7722 or visitsuffolkspca.org. Those interested in donating to the Nassau County SPCA can call 516-781-2052 or visit ncspca.com.
_________________________________________

if they find out who this fucker is, i'm going to do something. not what the person deserves, but i'll be first in line to picket their home.

2007-07-19T19:06:00.000-04:00

i was hoping that the incorrect spelling of "self-deprecating" invalidated the results, but it turns out that (a) self-depreciating is actually a word, and (b) the inventory, apparently, has been empirically tested in terms of validity and reliability.

i took a different one (the rosenberg inventory) and scored a 23.

i found the psychometric data for the test online. the mean is 64, and the standard deviation is 16.14. that means that i'm between 2 and 3 standard deviations from the mean, which means that more than 99.5% of people have higher self esteem. well don't i feel special. at least i have a decent grip on what i am.

in related news, i finally called the post-doc guy that my therapist had talked to about me. so maybe i'll find a new therapist or something. i don't really want a new therapist though. i just want my old one back.

i have six weeks to try to pull myself together. it seems impossible. more and more, i don't even want to leave the house. i'm not going to the protest tomorrow, even. lame. something like that might be a way to redemption. i have an excuse: because i'm a bad mommy, my kitties haven't been to the vet in 1.5 and 2 years, so we're taking them for check-ups.

2007-07-19T17:08:00.001-04:00

UPDATE

my stomach hurts and i truly, truly hate myself.

2007-07-19T12:20:00.001-04:00

WHO'S WITH ME?

Please join PETA campaigner Mike Brazell for a demonstration outside NFL headquarters to demand Michael Vick's immediate suspension in light of the indictment.

We need activists to hold posters.

What: "Sack Vick" demonstration
When: Friday, July 20, 10:00am to 11:00am.
Where: NFL Headquarters, 280 Park Avenue, New York City

The professional sports world is plagued with players who have been accused, charged, or convicted of cruelty to animals, abusing pit bulls, and dogfighting. We need to send a clear message to players and the NFL that celebrity is not a sufficient excuse for breaking the law and that animal abuse should never be tolerated under any circumstances. Please forward this e-mail to everyone you know!

2007-07-15T22:59:00.001-04:00

i'm heartbroken about this. we spent this gorgeous afternoon at these beautiful gardens, and the pictures look like utter crap. they're not that bad at this size (750 x 1000), but they look AWFUL (grainy and blurry) above that size, and that should not be with a 7 mp camera in bright natural light.

i don't know what to do.

i wanted the digital rebel xti, but that was to be my reward for getting tenure, and then i failed. i don't know if i should exchange it (a friend has the same camera, and it takes beautiful pictures) or just return it and get a different one.

2007-07-12T22:58:00.001-04:00

today in my lesson we ran through "sure on this shining night" (barber) and "do not go, my love" (hagemann), neither of which i was feeling. i've been singing stuff lately that works as well as poems as it does as song lyrics...i think i'm getting spoiled. the one i've been working on most recently (and the most consistently) is a ravel song that was originally written for quartet but adapted for solo voice. i think it works best as a song for solo voice. anyway, here's the text:

Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis
Mon ami z-il est à la guerre
Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis
Ont passé par ici.

Le premier était plus bleu que le ciel,
(Mon ami z-il est à la guerre)
Le second était couleur de neige,
Le troisième rouge vermeil.

"Beaux oiselets du Paradis,
(Mon ami z-il est à la guerre)
Beaux oiselets du Paradis,
Qu'apportez par ici?"

"J'apporte un regard couleur d'azur
(Ton ami z-il est à la guerre)"
"Et moi, sur beau front couleur de neige,
Un baiser dois mettre, encore plus pur."

Oiseau vermeil du Paradis,
(Mon ami z-il est à la guerre)
Oiseau vermeil du Paradis,
Que portez vous ainsi?

"Un joli coeur tout cramoisi"
Ton ami z-il est à la guerre
"Ha! je sens mon coeur qui froidit...
Emportez le aussi."

a translation of this that i googled (sorry, i'm feeling lazy today):
Three beautiful birds of paradise
(My love is gone to the war)
Three beautiful birds of paradise
Have passed this way.

The first was bluer than the sky
(My love has gone to the war)
The second was the color of snow
The third was red as vermillion.

"Beautiful little birds of paradise
(My love has gone to the war)
What do you bring here?"
"I carry an azure glance
(Your love has gone to the war)
And I must leave on a snow-white brow
A kiss, even purer."

"You red bird of paradise
(My love has gone to the war)
What are you bringing me?"
"A loving heart, flushing crimson."
(Your love has gone to the war)
"Ah, I feel my heart growing cold . . .
Take that with you as well."

so...yeah. still quite relevant.

anyway, she was talking about these settings of agee poems that she managed to scrounge up after years of wishing someone would set them to music--which immediately made me think of "fern hill." "fern hill" is my favorite poem (dylan thomas), and there is a really powerful choral version of it, but i haven't come across a solo version, and it's not the kind of thing like "beaux oiseau du paradis" where the chorus version is totally homophonic and can just be altered slightly to work as a solo piece. it would have to be completely re-written.

if i were talented and ambitious, this would be the time i'd announce that that's going to be my masterwork, my life's goal. but no.

anyway, here's the poem:

FERN HILL by Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

2007-07-11T12:46:00.000-04:00

i feel lonely.

i'm going to try to DO something today. i have a student or two later today, so that's a really good reason to clean house. i really should. i should put on grubbies and do a major cleaning. it would sort of be exercise. or, at least, more exercise than sitting on the couch.

maybe loud music would help me feel less lonely.

2007-07-11T00:29:00.001-04:00

i don't post a lot of my own pictures in here because of the whole "identifying info" issue, but these are people-free...

the thing that i love so much about colorado--the thing that i didn't know i was missing so badly--is the sky. the sky is ENORMOUS. so big that you can see it arching above the earth. i had no idea that that was something missing in my life. and everywhere you go, there are little hills to explore and wildflowers and interesting weeds and birds. and even if not--even if it's all dry and brown (as it is many years), there's still that sky. it's not something i can capture in a picture. i've tried, but it's really a three-dimensional thing.

i JUST MISSED a beautiful sunset when i was there last time. the sun was BRIGHT PINK, but by the time i fished my camera out, it had tucked itself away behind the "sleeping indian chief" shape made by the mountains.

rocky mountain national forest something or another

sunset from the back porch of my parents' old house

from my parents' backyard

and, just for kicks, this was my first ever glimpse of the pacific ocean in 2004.

2007-07-09T22:21:00.000-04:00

I LOVE YOU!!!!

2007-07-09T15:16:00.000-04:00

noel coward

so i just removed behindthelens from my lj friends page because of someone's avatar. it's a cartoon/animated person vomiting in front of the mcdonald's logo. i commented on it (but complimented the person's photo)--as if i can expect them to give a poo. i'll put it back in a few days when the avatar will be tucked away a few pages back.

WHINE
I WANT TO GO SWIMMING BUT I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DO IT ALONE!!!
/WHINE

i should get off the couch and do something. i can't think of anything to do that isn't the gym (for which i'm too lazy), swimming (which i'm not allowed to do alone), and shopping. i may breakover and buy some mary jane crocs. yeah yeah i know.

2007-07-09T11:32:00.000-04:00

the reign of terror is over. as i sleep, the tonsil stone was dislodged. it is now somewhere in my small intestine.

i should post twice today to make up for no post yesterday.

so the question is this: tell me an amusing bit about your anthropomorphism of animals.

here's mine: when i'm smushing my felix...i need to explain that first. he'll hunker down on a blanket and/or in a corner and purr and get kisses and pets and all of that. he requires this at least twice a day (morning and night--usually he comes into the bedroom for this just a few minutes past when i feel like getting out of bed).

okay so once in a blue moon he'll get freaked out. like, his claws (which we never trim) will get caught on a blanket and i'll try to help him get untangled, or he'll just be done. and if i reach for him, he'll smack me. if i pay attention, i'll know by his body language that it's coming, but i'll cry when he does it because i'll feel unloved and rejected.

2007-07-08T01:48:00.000-04:00

i took a nap with felix today.

and what i mean by that is that i carefully and gingerly got into bed and fell asleep on the same bed as him.

he's actually been noticeably more comfortable lately. we're coming up on our 2nd cat-iversary with him!!! what a good boy! and he's come so far after being in the shelter for 4 years.

i don't feel well. i have a headache and feel slightly achy. it's not helping that i'm up at 2:00 when i could be sleeping it off... i just fixed myself a lazy-person's version of a remedy (lemon squeezed into water, a couple pieces of candied ginger, and a couple advil) and i'll go to bed in a bit. i just couldn't stop once i got into scanning and uploading photos. it's weird when you do that how you realize how finite one's collection of pictures from any one event (or of any one person or pet or whatever) is. i don't like that.

it doesn't help that i have this freaking tonsil stone that's hurting the right side of my throat. (technical term = tonsillolith. info here, but basically they're stuff that accumulates in the crevices or pockets of your tonsils. i, unfortunately, have very cavernous tonsils. which brings me to the question of the day:

do you get them? (if you've ever coughed up a GRRRRRRRRRRROSS-tasting FUNNNNKY smelling white ball, you've had them). what do you do about them?

and if you don't like that question, how about this: describe the best dress you ever owned but don't have anymore.

2007-07-06T23:47:00.000-04:00

I could be brown
I could be blue
I could be violet sky
I could be hurtful
I could be purple
I could be anything you like

last night i cold-brewed coffee for the first time. not with one of those expensive toddy things, but in a glass whatever (last night, it was a measuring cup. tonight it's a vase). you take a glass something, add 1/2 cup of coffee grounds and 2 cups of filtered water (i also add a heaping tablespoon of cocoa powder), and mix them up well in the glass thing. then you cover it and let it sit over night. in the morning, you strain it (i just put a cover filter over the top of those skinny pilsner glasses in such a way that it stays there, and then i pour the coffee through it). BOOM. iced coffee. i'm hooked.

too bad all i have is decaf for two days now and i've been too lazy to walk ONE BLOCK people ONE BLOCK to dunkin donuts to get more.

tonight's is newman fair trade stuff. i didn't like it hot brewed, but i may like it this way.

so i have at numerous times requested a moratorium on the use of the word "cold" as an adverb (as in the sentence "i just cold ate that whole burrito!") because it's annoying and doesn't actually add anything to the meaning of the sentence. sean finally complied, but just now he peaked his head into the bedroom and said, "hey amy! amy! are you COLD brewing coffee? AHAHAHAHa!" he may have done a little "i'm a 5 year old and i made a funny and i'm so proud" dance.

okay, so i'm really happy to see comments because, for once, i asked people a question about themselves. i want to try to make this blog more interactive, so i'm going to ask a question in each post. today's question is: name at least FIVE of your guilty pleasures. and if you don't have 5 pleasures that you consider a little naughty, then name 5 things maybe you should feel guilty about, but don't.

my mood has been slightly better later this afternoon. this morning and early afternoon, i didn't know how i was going to keep living. i can't have this feeling around constantly, and even now that it's sort of receded into the background, i'm dreading it coming back full-force.

it's a feeling. yeah, not an emotion per se. more like a sensory experience that my whole body, but also mind and heart and spirit and all of that stuff feels. it's terrible. i can't live with it. and at this point i've basically committed to no inpatient until at least next summer (it's too late for it now, and i CAN'T go during the school year)...so i have to deal with it and figure out a way to make it leave.

i took a prozac today. i had it lying around. i may keep taking it. i'm not sure that's gonna cut it, though.

i finally ate something (you mean iced coffee isn't a meal?) at 3:00 or so and felt a million times better.

i was busy. i decided yesterday that if i could be pretty--even if only in pictures that were significantly altered--i could survive this and maybe even be happy. so today i was experimenting with that. within 10 minutes i was in tears, but then i put makeup on and it really did make a difference. dear god i'm so flawed. my skin is starting to show my age, the skin is darker around and underneath my mouth, i have dark circles under my eyes... and "you have beautiful skin" is the only consistent positive i ever got about my appearance. my eyes are blood shot, i have those lines from my nose to the corners of my mouth (it's funny to think this, but i think those are "laugh lines"), and then i think maybe if i gained weight my face would look better. but maybe it would look worse, maybe it would just accentuate the lines. and i spend all morning thinking gaining is worth a try if it might make me a little better looking...and then i eat at 3:00.

my total intake for the day was okay, though, i think. it certainly made me feel better. i just forgot because i didn't get that sick feeling i get from caffeine on an empty stomach.

i want to brew a big thing of chai and keep it in the fridge for chai (soy) lattes whenever i want.

there's just so little hope of me getting better. and i'm not just talking about those two appetite-related areas--i'm saying in general. i've been receiving pretty consistent treatment for a good 12 years now (12 years on and off with meds, and maybe 6 of therapy), and am i any better? i know i made gains with this last therapist, but i'm not sure they didn't go out the window over the last 2 months since i had to stop seeing her. so now what? i'm thinking this because i've been reaching out and reading other peoples' journals, seeing their pictures, reading their lives as if they were novels. and it seems like people evolve in certain ways that maintain the stuff that was good to begin with. i'm STUCK, stymied by this impossible desire to go back and redo. i can't relive my life, not even parts of it. and it's such a problem that i'll find myself even up to the parts in which i was stuck wanting to relieve my childhood, college, etc... i was aware even when i was, say, 25, that i was going to look back at 25 and realize how much i'd wasted. i'm already aware of it. here i am 31, still wasting it. but my fantasy of need to undo and redo the past is such an overpowering force that i don't know how i'd even begin to remove it from my life.

if i did, this blog would be so much more interesting. or maybe way less interesting. maybe it would be a boring "what i did with my day with very little reflection" blog. maybe i'd only post memes and test results. but i wouldn't give a crap because i've be actually living my life. i'm not living my life.

2007-07-05T23:56:00.000-04:00

a day in my life

0:00 get up to pee and give kitty one last mushing in the corner. get back in bed. snuggle up with husband. try not to worry about being slightly nauseous.

0:10 flip away from each other, but keep connected at the foot. get idea to blog a blow-by-blow of my day. contemplate this rather than wondering while i can’t sleep or tossing and turning (which i can’t do, because i don’t want to scare the other kitty off the bed). try to do this rather than dealing with that feeling i get nearly everyday—that feeling that makes me want to wince at the awful/embarassing thing that i did that i just can’t remember. (i try to just push off this feeling. sometimes it’s attached to something i did that was socially embarassing or guilt-inducing, but just as often it’s just the feeling there without the memory to back it up).

just lay there.

2:00 pee

6:30 husband’s alarm goes off. pee, calculate how much sleep i’ve gotten, and go back to bed for an hour or so.

10:00 wake up. look at clock and bemoan the fact that i didn’t mean to sleep this late.
pee.
mush kitty. the smushes are over when he smacks me.
come out and snuggle other kitty. put on the food network.
realize that i forgot to buy regular coffee and now i only have decaf.
remember that i have some iced (regular) coffee in the fridge. fix a glass. yum.
sit down and check message board, livejournal, etc. update profile. join a couple more communities. add another stranger as a friend.
work on blow-by-blow of my day.
fix another iced coffee.

11:43 fart around on the internet.

12:00 realize that i should leave at 12:20, and i’m neither dressed nor fed. drink iced coffee.

12:15 get up, go through cabinets, gulp down a small mug of fiber one with soymilk.

12:23 throw on something that’s nearby. check phone...message from late last night that says "happy 4th of jew-ly" from a 310 (L.A.) number that i don't recognize.

leave.

13:00 voice lesson.

14:00 get sidetracked by ‘organic delights” store and go in. purchase a wrap (greens, tofu, brown rice, hummus on a spinach wrap). eat half in the parking lot of stop and shop.

shop.

dammit, i forgot the mason jars. go back in. can’t find them. leave.

go to target. buy floodlight, lamp for sewing desk, black sheet.

forgot duck tape. go to walgreens.

16:00 eat other half of wrap. i guess i was really hungry. check LJ.

16:20 fiddle with camera and flood light. flood light isn’t all that bright, and everything looks yellow.

17:00 update this, load test shots to iphoto. well up. god damn, i’m just ugly.
receive call from a parent cancelling the 5:15 lesson. play with photoshop. still ugly

17:42 throw on clothes and put away the big stuff. teach a lesson.

18:00 feed kitty. back to photoshop. can’t figure out how to fill masking layer with black. start to cry. try another way.

18:30 still can’t figure out how to do that. tear up.

18:45 barely acknowledge husband’s arrival at home.

19:17 give up. really give up this time. start to cry because i’m ugly and i have an inexplicably large nose.

the freak-out lasts a while. and i hate myself for being so shallow and so upset because i’m not pretty. i have all my limbs and all of my senses and no major disease. but it’s not just that...i’m also NOT. GOOD. AT. ANYTHING.

20:30(ish) make vegan strawberry muffins.
21:03 put them in the oven. eat peanut butter on an english muffin (with vanilla soymilk).
21:25 husband remarks at how good they smell. you ask if it smells like they’re starting to burn. he says no.
21:30 it REALLY seems like they’re burning. open oven. they’re brown. think about how badly i fail. hurry up to get them out of the tin so they don’t cook anymore.

they taste fine, though.

21:35 go to take pictures of them even though i fail, just in case i dare to post them. CAN’T FIND CAMERA. start to panic. want to hit self over the head with a heavy object.

21:45 husband finds it. take pictures. eat one—it tastes fine.

settle into more farting around on the computer.

at some point, husband asks “is it bedtime?” i only hear him peripherally. maybe i say something like, “i don’t know...what do you think?”

23:10 husband announces that it’s bedtime and goes to get ready. sit here and update the “day in the life.” stomach hurts. it hurts a lot lately. i ate way too much especially at this time of night.

23:19 try to figure out whether or not i can go to bed. i don’t want to sleep until 10 tomorrow.

23:20 set up stuff for cold-brewed coffee that was posted in the cheapvegan LJ community.

23:22 apologize to husband for ignoring his go-to-bed request. take melatonin and valerian, brush teeth, etc. if you read all of this, comment telling me what color undies you’re wearing and i’ll feel extra loved. it can be anonymous or not anonymous...doesn’t matter. i’ll know how loving you are.

23:59 decide i’ve tortured my readers enough.

2007-07-04T23:26:00.000-04:00

okay.

how many times can i come to "http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5346560," stare at the blank text box, return to and reload my three other open tabs, see nothing new, return, and repeat?

i feel like i need to make some sort of a declaration about tomorrow, since tomorrow is really the first day of summer vacation for me. i mean, i had a weekend with sean and then a week away from him (which is DEFINITELY beyond my limit) in colorado, and then two days with him, and then he's off to work tomorrow and friday. so tomorrow starts those days ALONE.

i'm going to try to blog everyday. even if it's a short one. even two sentences. people do that all the time on lj. just because this is a "blog" doesn't mean it's long and emo or nothing at all, right?

okay so since it's been a few weeks, i feel like should do "the state of the [my real name]" post. i finished the school year. i always want to savor those last (easy) days after the spring concert. in some ways it's just like babysitting, since i just don't have the guts to have them come in the days after the concert and just, like, sightread or something. (maybe next year, though, i'll do a final). but it's also kinda like phoning in it, and you really get some quality time with individual kids--talking on the last day as you sit on the grass outside--that can be very nourishing.

i live in fear of not being bored enough of summer before i have to go back to teach in september. and the whole tenure fiasco just adds extra pressure onto this year. i have to revive, i have to go into this year with the kind of energy i had last year, but i hope i can just sit and be and FEEL the way i do now for a while and still get to that by the end of august.

i miss my therapist. i still haven't found a new one because i still haven't looked for one yet. i should. i really should.

i think i have some sensory issues. it's usually related to touch or maybe seeing and hearing sometimes as well. i get really snippy with kids when there's something i see/hear at the periphery that is repetitive. and i'm really picky about how i'm touched. and this isn't just a sexual thing--it's in general. too light and it just makes me itch. too hard and it hurts.

oh hell. so that's my post for tonight. good night all.

2007-06-11T21:29:00.000-04:00

ugh, i have nothing to talk about...or what i do is so stale...or maybe there's something i'm avoiding, yes, that would be more interesting.

anyway, my new musical obsession is beirut (and, yes, i do kinda hate myself for falling in love with this hipster-ass music). what can i say? i'm a sucker for a light baritone and brass.

elephant gun

mount wroclai (idle days)

yeah, so i feel now about beirut the way i felt (feel) about jens lekman.

so i'm really stagnant now. i feel like i get nothing done, and i always feel vaguely like there's something i did that i should be wincing (or at least worried) over, and it just follows me around. i'm waiting for something to happen, and, in the meantime, weird about eating. i think i'm eating a normal amount still, but i'm not using a mealplan. i just feel...so yeah, if stagnant and unsettled are not mutually exclusive feelings, then that's what i choose to describe me right now.

i'm not sleeping well...on weeknights, anyway...and i'm blowing it off because i'm barely teaching anymore. but i feel icky. and i tried to take a nap today, and i started thinking about bobo and holding onto my "bobo pillow," and i just started sobbing really hard and i just held off the feelings that were just like that night. and then i couldn't get to sleep, and then i was sorta dozing and my husband called. but nothing really works. it's funny, though, because i don't take anything on the weekends and i sleep well. this is fairly normal when i'm mildly stressed from work, but the concert's over. i just feel uneasy with the sorta letting go, letting the class get really loud once they finish their evals....it brings up the doubts about my management and all of that.

okay i need to just stop and end this post. it's dragging on so.

PS: could this look anymore retro?

2007-06-06T21:59:00.001-04:00

thank God my music's still alive

this was the beginning for me.

my concert was last night, and its success has spawned a round of doubts. i'm losing all those great guys next year, and i have no boys moving up that have such passion and enthusiasm. i mean, there are boys that could fill the shoes if they wanted to and worked on it...but i don't trust that they will.

also, the management issue. if kids will talk between songs right in front of their parents, how can i expect to control them? and yet, i know it reflects badly on me if they don't behave during the concert...one of the chaperones said "no wonder no one signs up to chaperone...these kids are animals, and i'm subbing for you tomorrow!" but it's 200 kids in a gym, 120 of whom have to wait around for literally 2 hours before they get to sing. of course they're going to get antsy.

sigh.

so yeah.

the concert was a success, BUT.

i got some beautiful pictures. i made copies for some of the kids, and i'm going to laminate them to hang up for next year. that was the one thing my classroom was lacking in terms of decor. also, i need to get more posters made by kids. plenty of time to do that now.

i was thinking today about my (sigh--former) therapist, and how profound an effect she's had on me. i think that the ripples are going to continue for a very long time. i don't know that it's anything i can put into words, just that it's much farther in reach than what you would expect from a therapist. maybe i'm using that as an excuse to find a new one, but i almost feel like i can feed off of this for a while. (in my fantasy, "a while" is until she goes into private practice, even though even my fantasy doesn't permit me to think she'd accept me again as a patient).

on a whim, i went to a thrift store today. it's been years since i shopped at thrift stores. i got two skirts, a pair of pointy-toed red shoes, and a steve madden purse for $12.71. i saw a pair of hipsters in there. i was glad i got there first i could have my pick of good stuff. there was a dress that i could have EASILY sold on ebay for a decent bit, very stylish now, but i didn't get it because it didn't look good on me. STUPID. it was $8, and i would have fetched at least $30 for it.

i'm uncomfortable with this blog becoming about my everyday life. that just doesn't suit me, and my everyday life is so uninteresting. no less interesting, i suppose, than my inner turmoil...but it feels less like something i should be typing up.

oh, here we go: on monday, a student asked me if i was pregnant.

this is sort of the peaceful time of year, and sometimes i don't know how to deal with it. i go back and forth from "i KNOW i'm an okay classroom manager, but i have projected insecurity about it, so they doubted me" to "if i were a good manager, the 200 kids in the gym would sit quietly for 2 hours and not talk in between songs." i go from "she said that she saw no reason why it wouldn't work" to "there's no guarantee..and then what?" so yeah, all of that interrupts the peace. i don't know what to do.

2007-05-25T11:17:00.000-04:00

today is the day that i drink iced coffee and play...

or i drink iced coffee and waste the day. either way, i'm properly caffeinated.

what should i do today? whenever i'm home and the weather is this warm and lovely, did you know that the first thought that pops into my mind is "sew!"? why sewing? i haven't sewn in a few years, and i don't even know that my crappy-DIY stuff is even cute anymore.

i should play the piano some (i mean, apart from what i'll be doing teaching lessons). i realized yesterday that i need to get better with the piano if i'm going to get where i want to be in terms of security with my own adequacy. also, career aside, it's just neat to be good at the piano. i'm pretty sure that all i need to do to get there is to spend a little more time practicing on real pianos (rather than the electric one at work) and maybe challenging myself to "cheat" a little less when it comes to sequencing accompaniments. like, i can still record them (especially if i need to transpose), but maybe i can actually play them rathering than cheating/layering.

i must also get to the store to buy more vegetables. i need to eat more vegetables and less refined carbs. don't get me wrong--refined carbs are packed with yumminess, but i need more veggies, and plus, it's fun to poop out slightly digested plants.

i should go to the beach too.

the more time i spend thinking about what i'm going to do, the less likely i am to actually do something. but i don't think wasting this day is a sin.

i just spelled sin as "sing" TWICE, and that reminds me that it's late may, and my voice is totally fine. i would imagine that if i were scoped, i'd see some soft nodules, but i actually read somewhere (i forget where, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was a scholarly/reliable source) that sopranos often have minor/soft nodules, and that it's not a problem. maybe there's something about the tessitura and the way that sopranos need to close their cords that nodules don't get in the way, or maybe they're able to just balance managing the impairment without it ever getting worse. i don't really sing soprano at work though... i rarely sing above an f (top line), and i'm usually singing the alto or baritone part. *shrug.* it's nice to have my voice.

yesterday was student council elections, and this one kid kept trying to get me to vote for him even though i explained that teachers don't vote. i was outside during 7th grade lunch, handing out NYSSMA score sheets (the 56 kids that went kicked ass), and he comes up and asks me if i voted for him. i explained AGAIN that teachers don't vote. so then he says, "you should try out for rent and i want a first-row seat the first night." i said, "you can butter me up all you want, but (1) i don't have that kind of voice, and (2) i'm still not voting."

so cute.

2007-05-24T23:07:00.000-04:00

i don't know why people get the impression that i don't allow myself to feel, that i put up walls. all i do is feel. i don't think i'm capable of stopping myself from being attached. i mean, i may do things that prevent people from wanting to get closer to me, but that certainly doesn't impede my feelings for them. how could i be cold and needy at the same time?

oh dear lord. i just figured out the answer to that question.

well, i may be cold, but i do feel. i remember commenting on how cold legolas was when gandalf "died" in the movie, and my husband told me that elves are supposed to feel more deeply than anyone else (in fact, one of the most common ways for them to die was from heartbreak) but not really express it the way others did.

except i'm not pretty.

i can look at picture after picture of certain people, and it's not the lighting or the camera or the skills. you can't polish a turd and you can't fake pretty.

2007-05-20T22:11:00.000-04:00

Hope is just a thing you bought
It's just another safe white lie
that every body got taught
I can see you look to me
So what else can I do?

so the thing that's on my mind tonight is that i never told my therapist about my klaus nomi obsession. i really don't think i did. that's probably something i could have told her on one of the sessions that i cancelled without bothering to even try to re-schedule. it sounds stupid, but i think it would have surprised her that i have non-self-deprecating / non-self-defeating fantasies. one of them is about him: i fantasy that i could go back in time and stay by his side every day when no one else would even touch him. he wouldn't have to pat my arm and say "it's okay--i understand." i wouldn't be some kind of hero or anything...i could just sit there quietly with him.

i guess that, realistically, the hospital staff wouldn't let me, but in my time-travel fantasy, they'd just pull me aside and inform me of the risks and i could just nod politely.

i think that the reason i had such boundaries in our relationship was that i knew that i had very few boundaries, and i HAVE to be the one to put them up or i'll be devastated. when i said of course i'd never think i could call when i was having an awful day or tempted to self-injure, what i really meant was that i wanted to be able to email her whenever i wanted. i feared that i'd be tempted after the relationship was over to cross boundaries, and that she'd be put in a position to have to enforce them, and i'd be crushed. sure enough, i'm tempted. i want to call. but i can't. this is how it goes.

i'm glad it's a short week--it'll be hectic. i teach 6 periods tomorrow; wednesday as well. i wonder if i'll be up to it. i hope so.

i've been outside of my meal plan for a few days now, and while i may or may not be "over" in terms of exchanges or calories, i don't like how this feels. and i know how this goes: i stay adrift here, beating myself up more and more and waiting until i have enough ammunition to punish myself, then i start to restrict a little. then i beat myself up for not really restricting, and i restrict more. i mean, this could take weeks or months, but this is how it goes and why i need a meal plan. i told sean we can only have one meal out / take out a week. he objected, but it's for the best for both of us.

how dull that i should end talking about food. i'd rather think about some kind of time warp that would allow klaus nomi and antony to collaborate.

2007-05-16T21:45:00.000-04:00

i wasn't really prepared for how hard this is. it's making the eating seem kind of easy in comparison.

2007-05-09T21:45:00.000-04:00

i hate when i wait so long to update that i don't really feel like catching anyone up...but i also hate half-assed updates. how to reduce a month (or whatever--too lazy to look) of my life into a few sentences? i will try.

i fell into a pretty earnest relapse...finally found uncovered my "self discipline." i did my mourning for not getting tenure, even took a completely self-indulgent day off just to do...whatever. (ended up buying a pair of ridiculous steve madden shoes that i'm now afraid to wear even though i still love them). the following week, i got what i think was the flu, and missed 3 more days of work. (missing 3 days in a row is UNHEARD OF for teachers unless it's to take care of funeral arrangements). in the midst of the illness, with a rather high fever, i went to see my teacher ratings, and i got another one that pushed my buttons. it made a pretty sly comment about my weight. i spent about 10 minutes crying about it and posting a whine on the message board, and then i started a new thread called "fuck this i think." i decided to just stop doing this.

i have eaten truly normally for 8 days now. i'm trying not to really think about the day when i get to "the other side" (AKA: above 85% ibw), because i really can't handle that. i can't even handle looking at myself. i keep my arms or something else over my stomach, and i am not allowed to look down at myself when i'm naked...all of that is okay. it was something i had to do in IP even as i was patting myself on the back for my daily weight gain. my body feels like an alien to me.

but i'm still eating. i'm trying to get myself to stick to a meal plan as of tomorrow. it's actually a lower calorie meal plan than what i've been eating, but after a lot of thought on the pros and cons, i decided that it's better for me in the long run.

i haven't taken laxatives since i don't know when.

yes, i've used the other symptom. eh. whatever.

today was my last session with my therapist and i'm not jazzed. i didn't think i'd really be able to access those feelings until a week or so from now; i don't think she realizes what a feat it was to guide me toward some sort of processing in our last couple of sessions. i really didn't think i'd be able to do it.

monday she told me about a dream she had about me, and it was somehow one of the most wonderful things anyone ever said to me. she sang in the dream, the sort of spontaneous outburst of song that i'll only ever do for 5 seconds late at night in the supermarket with sean (just to be silly, not really for the sake of singing). and later on in the dream, i sang along with her in the same way. i think it was a pretty damn good summary of our relationship. she has shown me by using her voice and putting feelings into words (rather than damage) how i can do the same. i think it's absolutely perfect that the metaphor for this in the dream was singing, too...because here i am at the end of the school year, and i guess my nodules haven't come back even though i've been singing the hell out of my cords all year.

i'm really really really daunted about finding another. i've had...what...6? two i've liked and feel like i've gotten something out of the relationship, but she's really the only one i consider "my therapist," the way i still refer to kathy as my voice teacher (even though she moved to boston two years ago and i'm working with someone else now). same thing: i had to go through so many, so many starting over and telling the same hackneyed stories to over and over...just to find one, and then they have to go.

So excuse me for lookin'
Like my world just ended
And excuse me for lookin'
Like I just lost my best friend
And excuse me for livin'
And being forgiving
So just go on if you want to be free
But the last thing I needed
The first thing this morning
Was to have you walk out on me

2007-04-22T22:41:00.000-04:00

damn i really just WANT to be pretty. i'm talking about a particular look or still...just pretty so that i don't repulse people but rather draw them to me. this is pretty in my face and body but clearly the problem is much bigger than that because that doesn't cover my personality. i don't like amusing people with my apparent frustration or activating the "better than" parts of their brains. i just want to feel like i can sit in the lunchroom at work and trust everyone else enough to participate in a conversation.

i want to uncover "their own issues" that might play a role in coming out and making me feel that i'm icky and untouchable. i can feel better about it if i know that this is coming out of them and not inherent in me.

2007-04-22T14:22:00.000-04:00

well, i was denied tenure. the reasons they gave were: the two years away (because i was excessed), the degree in another area, and a classroom management issue that is completely undocumented (all of my observation write-ups have been good) and was never brought to my attention. they presented it all rosey and crap... "what we want is a 4th year from you" and with promises that i'll get all kinds of support and know exactly what's expected.

my husband and sister and brother gave me flowers, and my mom wants to send me money to get a massage or something...i'm just having trouble accepting being rewarded for failure.

i found out at 9 am, and had to teach the rest of the day. then i went right from school to judge a NYSSMA festival until 9:30 pm. then i judged again from 9-5 saturday. then i chaperoned the school play until 10 pm (the kids got me flowers for that too--again, unearned). and i'm singing tonight. i'm just sleepwalking from one obligation to the next. i wish i could take off tomorrow (i know i'll get to bed late tonight, and it's a really hectic day tomorrow), but i don't want them to think i'm pouting or melting down.

(even though i am).

2007-04-10T21:50:00.000-04:00

this is one of those weeks in which i do stupid thing after stupid thing. stupid posts, stupid comments, stupid thoughts, stupid actions, stupid reactions.

it worries me that i'm going back to work tomorrow. usually my attitude toward the end of break determines how work will be. one summer i was very bored by the end, and i then had a great school year. i don't really want to go back, which means i'll have a crappy week.

everything is bothering me and i can't filter anything out. it all GETS TO ME. my husband's response to my post about PB2 (i liked it), the lack of organization underneath the bathroom sink, the fact that i accidentally tried to cross post my yummy dinner from last night in both cheapvegan and vegancooking (the latter doesn't allow cross-posting) and now it'll appear in neither, the fact that my weight is "stable," the fact that i ate 50 too many calories today, the fact that i was thinking about day treatment this summer (as if i can just waltz in and announce i'm "sick enough" and they'll agree, and as if i didn't hate everyone there the last time around) even knowing i'm the least sick in my group, and then i find out someone i was in IP with is going day treatment not because she's a spoiled brat who demands constant care that she doesn't deserve but because demanded that she get care, the fact that i'm triggered by that, how boring i am to IM with, the fact that i always feel like crying and i don't know why. i can't filter any of it out, even though filtering some of it out would surely make me less annoying.

i'm not even that sick. my heart and bones were fine as of may 2005, my weight is "stable," and i don't have any signs of anything else wrong. i'm only restricting in between binges...and that's fairly normal.

i'm dreading tomorrow--i already know there will be sugary, fattening crap in the faculty room, and i know i'll want to eat it and, although i probably will, it will in no way be worth it. it has been nice to not have to worry about binging for 10 days because the stuff just hasn't been in front of me. i do teach 6 periods tomorrow, so it would almost require effort in order to binge. i just have to stay out of there and in my classroom--maybe even for lunch.

but i teach 6 periods tomorrow, and i have so little energy to give. i didn't do ANY of the things i said i'd do over break--including getting a new song for my 6th grade chorus. i'm not sure what i'm going to do tomorrow. i promised them it would be good...and i don't have it. i was too lazy to go to the music store today. there is no money to buy a new piece, so i'll have to arrange it myself. i could at least have part of it by friday if i work hard enough....

i don't want to do anything. i don't really even want to leave my bed. i'm not sure i even want to go as far as my couch. and this is because i can't stop things from irritating me. i'm not going to say "raw" or "thin-skinned," because the hurting part is just underneath and not pushed down like it should be, but it's the external stuff that i'm wishing i could keep away. it's enough to try to manage the inside stuff without NOT being able to stop being itched and irritated by all the external stuff.

2007-04-03T13:12:00.000-04:00

i can't stand where i am anymore. i'm eating fairly normally overall, but not by choice...because i just "can't" seem to manage restricting. i seem to have picked up (occasional) binging over the last couple of months, and i have gotten bolder about using laxatives to purge. i'm not exercising. my therapist keeps putting forth the possibility that i am getting better, but that's not how it feels. i thought recovery was a choice you had to make every day, rather than your body rebelling on you and causing you to hate yourself even more. i thought there was going to be an epiphany rather than the same old me-against-my-body fight.

i'm working on my second missed period. i am thrilled because i'm finally meeting the DSM criteria for anorexia, confused because my weight is UP, and terrified because i don't want to do something that can't be undone (but also i do want to do something that'll leave its mark forever).

right now i am both recovering and getting worse. i'm going to therapy faithfully and talking honestly, but i'm talking honestly about how i don't want to gain weight or give up my symptoms. i'm posting pro-recovery stuff on the message board, but i'm spending all morning (and into the afternoon) on there drinking coffee and not eating. i'm maintaining/slowly gaining, but i'm also fighting it. and after two days of being alone on vacation, i know how easy it's going to be this summer to restrict. there will be no obligation to students holding me back, i'll already know whether or not i'm tenured, and no one's going to babysit me. and here i sit, on my second day, and it *feels* just like those summer days. it feels SOOOOOOOO good in the morning when that caffeine kicks in, and i feel so social (although the closest i come to socializing is what i perceive as being exceptionally witty posts on message boards)... and then this afternoon, that feeling that i hadn't felt in AGES kicked in. around 12, 12:30, i started feeling panicky and alone and like i was about to break down. i went through that EVERY DAY before i went ip.

i know it's completely eating-disordered (and also borderline) to see things this way, but i can't stay on the fence anymore. i HAVE to either jump back into that bottomless black hole or stop using "insight" as a way of reducing my obligation to actually DO something towards getting better.

my weight is up: do i lower it, or do i cling to the wisdom of people on "the other side" of recovery? (i've been talking to my old roomate from ip, who is fully recovered, and i think this is the first interaction SINCE ip that has actually moved me to at least think about moving towards recovery).

my period is gone: do i use this as a wake-up call, or as "validation" that i'm doing this right?

i know what YOU are going to say.

part of me wants to indulge in one last stint, driving myself back into ip where i can be completely surrounded by people who give me permission to shut out the unhealthy voices. and that would help, especially if i did it right this time and stepped down (ip / day treatment / iop / outpatient)... but (1) i HATED day treatment in renfrew nyc, and (2) ultimately, this is something that i'm going to have to do myself.

sometimes (after too much caffeine, but before the inevitable crash), i feel like i'm becoming a better person, but it's nearly impossible to shut myself off to this thing that is just staring me down.

2007-03-13T22:06:00.000-04:00

i don't think i'm handling being off of meds very well.

march hit me like a ton of bricks last week. add that to things coming down to the wire with regards to me getting tenure. i had my first bad observation last week. it was my tenure observation with the assistant superintendent. he's coming thursday to allow me to redo it...with the same class. my "bad" class. i had two class periods with them to get things together.

the concert is next week as well. i stayed after school for 3 hours just trying to figure out how to fit all 200 kids on the risers.

so it was like something that was just hanging on snapped last wednesday. bad observation, long days, annoying conversations with coworkers, lots of parent phonecalls (not really bad, but i tend to get a little nervous), deadlines, stressful interactions with kids... all last week i just came home and cried.

i had therapy monday night (i had to cancel last week's because of a meeting), and my therapist informed me that she doesn't think it would be a good idea to keep seeing me after she graduates in may. she initially said she would (in brooklyn), and i said maybe i'd at least see her for the summer. now she's pretty much dumped me.

nobody really likes a borderline.

i've cut more in the last week than i usually do in a year. i tried to say that in group...as i said it, a leader talked over me (or maybe i talked over her, who knows), redirecting the conversation. it seems like anytime i say something that's really painful or feels really important to me, i get...well, i know it's not technically negative reinforcement, but it's not positive reinforcement. the first time i talked about self-injury, i felt ridiculous and ashamed because i thought i had crossed a line. when i tell someone something important, they threaten to leave group or end up needing to be rescued. this time, i was all but told to stop talking about what i was talking about. but it's all i can THINK about....except for how fat i am.

so in a panic monday, shaking, i called and got the only doctor's appointment i could get without taking off work this week. i was freaking out, thinking i needed to get back on meds asap... so the appointment i got happened to be during my therapy on wednesday. i was hoping she could see me or do a phone session a different time. no such luck. (of course, now i'm thinking that it's just a convenient excuse to get rid of me). so i was supposed to call my doctor today and try to get him to call in a prescription, and then change my appointment. i remembered at lunch, but i couldn't get any privacy to make the call, so i'd do it after work. my clock in my room is all messed up, and i ended up staying after and doing work until a little before 6:00...and the doctor's office was closed. i called my therapist again hoping maybe she could see me, but she couldn't. if i can cancel the doctor's appointment first thing in the morning, i can still have therapy at my usual time. if not, i don't have therapy this week.

or next, as she's away.

i think she's annoyed with me. and i realize that no support is a totally appropriate punishment for me screwing up, but i'm still taking it personally. i'm sort of embracing the punishment, but at the same time i'm really really really freaking hurting...like, feeling rejected by her. i told her some things this week that really make me vulnerable. i've never really gotten...into detail....i mean i think i've always been up front about whether or not i was, but...i'm not really comfortable going into it and now of course i'm regretting it

then again, what difference is one or two appointments going to make? i leave group every week feeling more hated and more determined to destroy myself.

maybe if i stopped cutting i'd be able to restrict better. that's how i first started getting sick...i had to stop self injuring because people at work were starting to suspect that i was abused...but i'm so tired. i can't even get myself to go for a walk, let alone the gym. and i restrict all day and then eat way too much at night.

sometimes i feel like i'm going crazy. today was the first day i didn't have that terribly anxious feeling, the feeling that i was going crazy, the fear that it was going to be that bad. and then i remember that it is march and it just might. i always wonder "is this going to be the year when things are that bad again? how will i get through each 5-minute period?"

i have trouble with changing seasons...i get melancholy in the fall sometimes, but spring is when i truly lose it. i hate spring. it usually starts to get better in may...once i'm past april 27, it seems...but this whole month is anticipation of the 28th and i can't even say "i just want it over" because it's not going to be any better after that.

for my birthday--okay i really don't give a crap about my birthday and couldn't be less happy about it, but i'm selfish so i'll go ahead and name the greedy things that my fat ass wants. i want a new set of kitchen knives, wellbutrin, and sleeping pills.

i don't know what all of this is leading to, but something has to give. i just feel like i'm becoming more and more of a nuisance, but i can't seem to stop myself from inflicting myself on others when this feeling gets so strong. it's not just a feeling, though...it affects me physically. i'm so exhausted and my limbs feel so heavy, but my heart will start pounding and my hands get all shaky and my mind starts racing.

other people have much worse problems.

2007-03-05T21:44:00.000-05:00

And there's no rhyme or reason
I'm changing like the seasons
Watch! I'll even cut off my finger
It will grow back like a Starfish!
It will grow back like a Starfish!
It will grow back like a Starfish!

i don’t usually take a shower right before bed, but i did tonight. i usually shower whenever i get home in the afternoon or evening. i feel like my sensory issues are getting worse as i try to give up my tendency to obsess and hyperfocus...i couldn’t stand the way i smelled. actually, i didn’t smell, but i imagined that i WOULD smell by the end of tomorrow so, in anticipation of it, i took a shower.

someone at work commented on my weight. it didn’t upset me that he commented because of the nice way he did it (i guess you just have to know him, and he’s someone i’d accept this sort of thing from without getting upset)...he said, “look at you—you’re getting thinner. you’re so tiny...” or something like that. i just mumbled that i hadn’t lost any weight. i was sort of pleased at first but somehow over the course of this day i ended up feeling fatter. maybe it just reminded me of the fact that, as my doctor would point out, “[my] weight is stable at least.” it certainly made me think of how much i ate this weekend, all those tortilla chips... and tonight, looking for the site for some destruction, i located some prominent cellulite. oh, and my stomach is big and hard.

today was one of those days that led to me feeling...i guess it’s what would be clinically referred to as “passively suicidal.” i found myself daydreaming about a serial killer who needed practice, but wasn’t up to doing anything truly gruesome (painful or messy). i concluded that a serial killer probably WOULD be painful and messy, though. just as i was thinking it (on the way home from my voice lesson), i saw my old (social work) supervisor walking his dog and it made me smile. he goes home every day at lunch to let his dog out.

well.

i just stopped and wandered over to a youtube of tori amos singing one of my favorites with an improv and everything and i’m kind of out of words now i guess.

good night.

2007-02-25T10:01:00.000-05:00

15.94

so why is my stomach so big, and why am i so much bigger than people with similar BMIs? and why is it "kinda hard to tell because of how [i] dress"?

2007-02-24T00:22:00.001-05:00

i hate this agitated feeling. i feel so agitated. all day long i was in physical pain and completely flat emotionally…and then later in the afternoon i was able to sound normal, then by the time my husband got home i watched myself from the outside acting normally. i was half glad (because i knew i wouldn’t be such a burden for the next few hours or however long it lasted) but half uncomfortable because i’m not okay. i don’t know when or how it started, but i found myself in my closet, finally straightening up my workout clothes and keeping the shirts with the shirts. not a really organizing project—just what my husband calls “futzing.” he came in the bedroom when i was organizing stuff on my dresser and says, “i see there’s been some futzing,” and i’m in such a raw state that i felt like he was making fun of me. or maybe i was annoyed because i’m on the verge of panic, on the verge of a freakout, and he’s not scrambling to HELP ME.

shortly before throwing out this awful body spray, i decided to spray it on myself. now i smell like an old woman. if i liked the smell of the stuff, i wouldn’t be throwing it out. so i’m sitting here fat and ugly and now STINKY.

i took some valerian to try to calm me down. i hope it works. i don’t want to take any heavier sedatives because then i fear i won’t feel like going to the gym tomorrow from the grogginess. and i’m still conserving ambien.

i didn’t go to the gym today…i really hurt. i don’t know if it’s that i’m just out of shape, and these long walks are too much for my flabby body, or if i need sneakers, or if it’s how i slept (on the couch—i couldn’t wake sean up to get him to stop snoring, and i was again about to lose my shit), or if it’s like on those “depression hurts” commercials with the poor dog who doesn’t understand why his owner won’t walk him…so i made sure to talk nicely to the kitties and love on them even though i was in such a haze. i was prescribed cymbalta some time ago, but i was afraid to take it because of the nausea side effects and also because it works on two body chemicals just like effexor which has awful side effects and withdrawal, and i don’t ever want to deal with withdrawal again.

i ate too much today. it would have been okay if i had exercised. i used the heating pad quite a bit and rested all day (didn’t peel myself off the couch until after 3..and that was just to pace around the apartment while on the phone), so there’s really no excuse for me tomorrow. i wish it was warm enough for walking…i really liked that 5 miles the other day…but it really needs to be above 50 for me to be comfortable.

he’s absolutely exasperated with me, and i thought i was pretty good this evening….and we barely even talked. it makes me afraid for the next 48 hours. going to the gym on my own is a good way to give him a break…

2007-02-22T22:05:00.001-05:00

i’m happy, hope you’re happy too

trigger type IV: not being a “real” anorexic

anorexia is secondary to a FAR less palatable diagnosis. if i lose enough weight, maybe anorexia can be my primary diagnosis.

i’m in an eating disorder group. i’m the only one who doesn’t isn’t bulimic or a binge eater, and yet i’m not the thinnest. this is a situation that needs to be rectified.

my primary diagnosis is a personality disorder, so i don’t belong in an eating disorder group. i want to be in it (even though i knew i didn’t belong the whole time), so i must focus much more on weight and eating.

2007-02-21T20:53:00.000-05:00

Oh yes, I'm fine, everything's just wonderful, I'm having the time of my life

blogger keeps freezing on me….and then i restart and restore the session…this time it wasn’t there….it was a long post. not well-written or important, but long.

i found out my “official” (primary) diagnosis today. it’s not anorexia, and it’s not ed-nos…it’s not an eating disorder at all. it’s the diagnosis i got three years ago and accidentally discovered after googling the diagnostic code on an insurance form i signed. i never did talk to my therapist about the fact that i knew. i mean, she knew i feared it, hated it, but i didn’t even want to talk about it, and anyway i was going away….

i knew i didn’t really fit in in the eating disorder group, but there was still hope because i did fit in in IP for an eating disorder (and that was the only time since high school that i felt that i fit into any group). my therapist had hinted before that i was….in need of…help regardless of my weight. later on, she said that was because mentally i was very ill, apart from the eating stuff. i didn’t really get what she was trying to say until she came right out this week and said that her diagnosis was borderline personality disorder.

i consider this a much “worse” diagnosis than just about everything else…long story there…but it means i failed, i didn’t beat it. i also feel that personality disorders (i’m mainly talking “cluster b” here) just kind of mean you’re a bad person. my therapist argued this, but the fact is that it’s something that develops over time—never acutely….it’s just how you ARE. an avoidance person was probably avoidant when they were three. there is so much overlap and they’re so poorly defined, and they’re difficult to treat…. it just all seems to add up to them meaning you’re just a bad person. there’s no treatment for antisocial personality disorder, and there’s little convincing evidence that it was learned. no medication is going to help me not be borderline…

and so of course this confirms my suspicion / fear that all of this is a waste of time, because i’m just BAD. i don’t have the “excuse” of a disease—i’m just a bad and annoying and disgusting person.

i thought these two things…the feeling about cluster b personality disorders, and the suspicion that i’m not mentally ill but just bad…separately, but i can no longer ignore how they came together over the last couple of days. i mean, i knew…i know what i learned and catch myself doing…i looked at the criteria and i know i fit at least some…but week after week as i condemned in therapy behavior that was “so borderline”…i guess i was secretly hoping that the insight would keep me from fitting it. i was secretly hoping to hear, “well, yeah, you display some of the symptoms, but i don’t think that’s what i would diagnose you with….” i knew it was my enemy, i knew it was what was handed down to me, but i was still hoping i’d beat it.

i didn’t.

i asked if i had unstable relationships, and she told me that i have remarkably stable relationships (especially my marriage…well, except for the one big thing) and i hold my life together better than your stereotypical borderline would. and i haven’t made any gestures…she said that if i did this stuff a lot, she wouldn’t have been able to treat me, because…well, i don’t know. because borderline people are freaking crazy and need to be hospitalized (my words, obviously, not hers…i don’t remember how she worded it, but she was being very careful).

she said it was more the “self-injury, emotional lability, and splitting.”

people with eating disorders split. i’d rather have an eating disorder rather than use it as a symptom of THAT.

and yet...i am splitting myself. i’m trying to be the picture of health and joy at work—but i want to keep destroying myself. each day lately i can’t decide whether to keep going until i die, or if i should just gain the weight and let my fatness be my punishment. i’m torn between parents who won’t tolerate me being any different from them (yes, i know that individuation is a psychosocial task that i should have completed 10-15 years ago) and the need to be accepted by my husband and friends, with either no thought to what i think/feel, or i know what i think or feel but i can’t really be honest to anyone because everyone will judge me. if my parents really knew me, they’d fear for my spiritual health or whatever. if my friends or husband really knew me, they’d think i was an idiot. my husband explicitly said that people who believe ________ are idiots, and it was something that i do believe. and if someone who is supposedly in love with me cannot tolerate me being radically different from them, how can i think i’ll ever be accepted by anyone else? i don’t want to make him or anyone else believe it…i just want to be allowed to believe it. neither side will let me think, believe, or act how i want, and it’s tearing me in half.

but i WANTED the double life thing. i do want that. i want to have the very professional, normal, accepted side of me during the workday…and i want to be eccentric, dark, and true to myself outside of work.

this not having a computer during the day is killing me. there’s too much time in which i cannot NOT think. i was too lazy to go to the gym but i did walk a good five miles today…it was an hour of half of thinking that i couldn’t escape, but it was definitely more tolerable than the rest of the day.

this is an interesting trigger. the challenge, i suppose, to be a real anorexic rather than someone with bpd.

2007-02-20T23:55:00.000-05:00

i thought of my voice teacher today in the music store when i came across a book that i’ve been looking for for years: marchesi progressive vocal exercises, opus 2. it was a little yellowed by time, and there were three price stickers right on top of each other (the top one of which was, much to my delight, only $6.50…which helped to balance out the cost of two copies of the bernstein album).

we used these exercises every week in my lesson for those years. see, she’s not even my voice teacher now. she lives in boston, and i’ve had another voice teacher since the summer. but i still consider her my voice teacher because she’s one of the two (out of seven) i’ve had that were good…by good, i mean they know anatomy/physiology, pedagogy, and i made significant progress under their guidance.

GOD I THINK SOMETHING IS PHYSICALLY RADIATING FROM ME, BADNESS. my screen just zapped, and a poof of smoke went up, and it was dead. the screen is being fixed, and i’m dying here being off work and home alone without internet access. i’m typing this on my husband’s work computer, and it kept freezing so i had to restart. then it just went black. the battery had plenty of charge left, and i lost the rest of this post.

anyway, so MY voice teacher, as i found out last Thursday, has a rare form of breast cancer, and it’s stage III. i don’t want this for her. i mean, no one deserves cancer…i just really don’t want this for her. she was finally feeling more comfortable in boston, more settled into her new career…and happy (remarried to a sweetie a year or so ago)… i mean, any time is bad for such a burden….

but i think she’ll beat it. i know i’m blindly optimistic for other people, but i have science backing me up. there seems to be a connection between outlook / mindset / mental state and healing… and she, just having completed her first week of chemo, has announced that she MUST keep teaching as much as her body will allow.

see? she also has a chronic pain condition, one in which you either have to fight tooth and nail to keep your old life, or you give into the pain and depression and eventually become homebound…and this is how she has dealt with it.

the five year survival rate for stage III is about 36%, so a big SOMEBODY has to beat it.

2007-02-20T21:54:00.000-05:00

i've been trying to sort out my "triggers." that's one thing i never sorted out in my discharge/relapse prevention (HAHAHAHA) planning. and then i lost my relapse prevention packet..i think it was when i was passing around my notebook to get everyone's address. anyway, because i wasn't able to identify any triggers in IP, and because the things that have from day one made me go "i don't want to eat anymore" (see: etiology of my eating disorder, chapter 3, paragraph 5,000) are NOTHING like what seem to be triggers, i sorta ended up concluding that the whole "trigger" thing is a bunch of baloney, and that people learn triggers because they need them.

i've been figuring out lately, thanks to a relentless round of triggers, that i do have "triggers." but they have nothing to do with eating.

here are some examples of triggers:

TYPE I: DISAPPROVAL
subtype A: i am hated or disapproved of.
subtype B: someone confirms that i suck in a way that i was either trying to hide, trying to fix, or unsure about.
subtype C: someone uncovers something bad about me that i missed in my inventory and points it out to me.

examples:
* i find a note on my desk that says "ms. ____, you are a bad teacher. please quit. (fulfills criteria for IA because the student dislikes me, and i deserve to be punished for being unlikeable. also IB because i’m trying not to be a bad teacher and obviously failing, so, again, punishment is in order).

* bad rating on ratemyteachers.com (subtype depends on the particular comments that accompany the rating). i’m hated. see? kids are NOT dumb. they knew you were sick before you did. you clearly are incapable of redeeming yourself by being a decent teacher, so you’ll need to suffer.

* dad says this is the last year he'll do my taxes unless i start keeping records of / claiming voice lessons. repeatedly says that it’s “wrong” (IC—how could i miss that i was doing something wrong and wait for someone else to punish me for it? the most i can hope for in this life is to hurt myself adequately so that my badness doesn’t affect anyone else. i’m angry because the first thought was “how dare you judge me—i think it was “WRONG” of you to vote down your school budget right after i got excessed because of people like you…and worse, you informed me that you did as if it was perfectly fine! i can’t talk to you about this, and i cannot tolerate angry feelings, so i have to do SOMETHING).

TYPE II: I HAVE A BIG MOUTH AND I NEED TO SHUT UP
i regret talking—the less i talk, the better.

examples:
i reveal something painful in group, and i get no reaction because apparently i presented it as if i didn’t really care about it. (i am alone; i need to disappear. i am disgusting—no one would want to get close to me. the less there is of me, the better).

i reveal something in group and people are freaked out by it. (i am all alone—i don’t belong anywhere. the less there is of me, the less there is to annoy others).

i am extremely angry after a very annoying encounter with a weird and rude colleague, and i rant about it in the faculty room. (unprofessional—you need to learn to reign things in and keep quiet. start with your calorie count).

TYPE III: I'M INVISIBLE

examples:

i get a very drastic haircut / color change shortly before seeing my family for the holidays. no one says a word about it. (clearly the only way to become visible is to be thin. also, you are a spoiled brat for expecting anyone to notice your dumbass new hair, so you deserve to suffer).

mom used to call every sunday. it’s been a few weeks. i know that she talks to my sister a few times a week at least. (i don’t have children. so far the only way i’ve successfully gained their attention…although way too much of it…was to lose. you are a spoiled brat. you deserve to starve.)

dieting before visits. (if i look healthy, they’ll think i’m okay. i’m not okay. if mom thinks i’m okay she’ll never call

so from now on when i whine about triggers, i can shorten it to TYPES I, II, or III. i may discover more, but so far everything seems to fall pretty neatly into one of those categories. i’m thinking about a TYPE IV: I F’ED UP AGAIN. but my F-ups often fall into one of those categories, and if i really was triggered by everything i miss up, i’d be 40 pounds and dead by now, so clearly it’s only a certain kind of F-up that triggers.

2007-02-10T21:36:00.000-05:00

masochism

wow i can't believe i haven't updated in nearly two months. there's not much to say in that time when i'm so consumed by the events of the last week or so.

i'll start with the stuff you're most likely to dismiss: two TERRIBLE reviews on ratemyteachers.com. one was all "ones," and the other said, "cannot teach to save her life. can't sing either." okay, i'm glad the second comment was added there, actually. i know i can sing...and that helps to dismantle the credibility of this confused adolescent. but the teaching part hurts. there was a review that said something like "bad teacher. has no [class] control" that bothered me because it's true, but it's not on there or maybe it was a long time ago.

now understand the situation around me: monday morning i came in in a great mood. i had my coffee, i'd completely rested my voice all weekend, and it was behaving itself. i get in, and on my desk--on MY notepad is a note:

"ms _______ -

you are a bad teacher. please quit!"

i know i know i know i know kids stuff BUT LISTEN: this had to happen friday afternoon after i left. the drama teacher was using my piano to work with some of the kids on music for the school show. that means that the comment came from a "music kid." the only comfort i could find is that there were a few kids who had come down from the high school to help...kids i had when they were just 6th graders. they were good enough kids, but if they wrote it it won't hurt as much because they're not "my" kids.

and i know you'll dismiss it as "oh, that's how kids are...." that's NOT how the students in this school are. and it's especially hard for me to blow it all off knowing that it's coming from a singer, drama kid, etc. etc. etc...the commentary seems more valid.

less than an hour later, a kid vomited not ten feet from me. i looked up and saw it.

i was more upset about the note. considerably more upset about the note. i was shaking from the vomiting, but...THIS. is. what. triggers me.

i can look at skinny models until the cows come home, but criticism (especially when it resonates with my worst fears / sinking feelings) and screwing up are what really get me going. i didn't know what symptom to use first.

so why did i go home and check my rating that day? who knows.

why did i do it today? who knows?

oh god--it never occurred to me that i can't sing. i assumed that the kids always telling me i should try out for american idol is their way of saying they think i'm a good singer. god i spent HOURS this week working on CDs for my NYSSMA students with the melody line / accompaniment / songs sung by me...can i even listen now?

isn't it just easier and better for everyone involved if i just cut or something rather than all this rambling? i don't even know what to do with myself--i'm just so disgusted...i need someone to punish me for me, but i don't want anyone to be troubled...

2006-12-17T20:26:00.000-05:00

so the whole "relapse" thing lasted about two weeks. now i'm back to no exercise, eating normally and feeling crappy about it (but, apparently, not crappy enough to not buy and eat the donut).

a couple weeks ago, my therapist showed up with consent forms in hand, demanding that i go to my doctor. i don't think she's talked to him yet...i felt like such an idiot because, by the time i made the dang appointment, i was eating normally and too lazy/tired to exercise. and my weight was 99...not exactly the 95 i was going down to...

it was 99 with clothes (no shoes, no jacket) in the late afternoon. does that mean it's really 97? or does the doctor set his scale so it already subtracts a couple pounds to get your "morning / naked / empty stomach" weight? i wanted to ask, but i didn't think that i'd get the results i wanted.

it was too much. i hate to apply the word "intimate" to a gp appointment, but it was. i really like him. i guess i'm attached to him. i felt dumb knowing what i'd already eaten that day, and that i wasn't going to exercise, and knowing i was going to pig out at a luncheon the next day...and my weight wasn't THAT low...he didn't even order bloodwork or an ekg or another dexascan. he just lectured me (in a nice way) and compared what i was doing to a smoker insisting that they're fine because they don't have lung cancer yet. but if i was really THAT sick, i think he'd order tests...

i have to go back in two weeks, i guess to get weighed again.

so he gave his talk and we talked then he gave some more talk and i teared up when he said he doesn't buy that i was trying to lose weight for some leeway over the holidays...and eventually, i was like "okay--thank you," and ready to hop down from the examining table and he just looked me in the eyes and i forget what he said but it was as if "i know that blow-off, and i don't want to let you get away with that." it made me not be able to look at him.

since then, i've just gotten bigger and bigger. my "skinny" jeans are uncomfortable. i hope a large part of it is bloating, which should go down in a week. i'm just getting fatter and fatter. i keep telling myself that it's just two more weeks--how much could i gain?--but i just can't stand this FEELING. and i can't exercise it away...i've been so tired / lazy. both. i'm genuinely exhausted...i fall asleep anytime i'm on the couch and warm, i'm grumpy at work, my throat has been sore and tickly as if i'm barely fighting something off...but i'm also, obviously, a lump that doesn't want to get off the couch. blegh.

2006-11-28T21:33:00.000-05:00

warning: this post is extremely triggering. i'm going to talk in details (numbers, behaviors, etc.) about my ED. please please PLEASE don't read if this is going to make those thoughts creep into your head...or even lay the groundwork for those ideas to latch onto later on. please just don't.

i'm writing this because i don't know what else to do but "confess." i'm as bad off as i was..."before"...but i'm not in denial this time. i was completely in denial and thinking i was in control until about 12 hours after i got to residential treatment before. this time, i know i'm completely out of control.

i think the big trigger...which i'm sure many of you will reject, but i'm going to say it anyway...is how much i was eating after i went on the pill. i felt out of control. i was far far far out of my comfort zone, but i couldn't stop. i became more and more anxious...and, therefore, more and more determined to get control back. failed attempt at restriction after failed attempt at restriction just increased my obsession.

i wasn't even gaining weight. i just got to the triple digits. just barely. that's it.

i'm 5' 6".

i decided that, since i was eating "normally" (and i really was...the only abnormal part was my reaction to my eating), i could go back to the gym. i decided i'd start right after my mom's visit.

somewhere in there, it went from "okay, well if i'm gonna gain, i might as well make it muscle...otherwise, my gym dues are just wasted" to....

to....

well.

um.

i can eat 1000 calories a day. any more than that and it has to be exercised off. and then it became 900. i have to exercise off 1750 a week, because that's exactly half a pound. i have to weigh 95 pounds the next time i see my parents.

i'm not going to pretend that there's even the most superficial of logic to these "rules." i'm flabbergasted that i accepted them so easily. i tried to challenge the exercise one today...tried to say, "WHO says i have to burn off that many calories? who? why," but i still have to.

i'll be exercising, thinking "what the hell are you doing? what are you doing?," but as time goes on, i get more and more disassociated from this world and sucked into watching the calorie counter go up. i'll think "what am i DOING?!?!" as i post in an accountability/restriction thread on the message board...but i just can't seem to stop myself.

i know i'm out of control.

i cut again the sunday night before last. something just snapped. i felt myself lose my husband...my one support, my last support...and the thought came into my head "i can do whatever...WHATEVER...i want to myself. nothing is stopping me."
you'd think that i'd "unsnap" since we talked it out thursday (and then again last night). all i can say is that i know it's an addiction.

i've spent the last couple of individual therapy sessions talking about how i want to leave group. it's not their fault i don't get support for them. i don't know if it's the way i present it, or that i'm intimidating (my therapist says i am), or if it's just that i'm truly a horrendous person and they're repelled by me...or even if i just happen to push buttons subconsciously that i can't control...but, whatever the reason, i don't get support. i latch onto any opportunity to stick up for someone, express outrage, because that's the closest i get to any sort of (fleeting) connection. it's becoming more and more obvious, and therefore more and more painful. and to hear people in group talk about how they keep away friends. i hear that, i do...but i can no longer shove down "wow--they have friends, people that reach out to them. i don't." i really don't. i shouldn't be all sean's responsibility, the poor thing. why should it fall all on him? i mean....i know, who should it fall on? the DUH answer is "me...i need to put my money where my mouth is and just keep my misery to myself." but i can't. i just can't. i can't even keep this to myself.

i spilled it in the last 5 minutes of group. the leader pointed out that i set it up so that it would be impossible for me to get support. that's the way i needed it to be. i can't hurt anymore from group. i need it to be that there's something very objective preventing people from connecting to/supporting/reaching out to me, because that relieves me of the "what is so WRONG with me?" i can't take any more risks. it hurts too much. so fine i come off as cold and as if i don't care. that's not how i am, and i can't keep coming home and feeling like this.

i haven't abused laxatives. that's good.

i don't have anyone to talk to about this, other than my therapist (who i guess is feeling sorry for me, because she said i could call her if i'm going to cut...i'd probably get voicemail but i could talk to that etc. etc. etc...and she'd call me back within 24 hours. i hate leaving voicemails. i don't see me doing that). my husband tried to name people last night. there were two to which i said, "okay, yeah i could talk to them...but i'm afraid of triggering them." and anyone else...i'd just feel so petty. k has much bigger problems than my self-induced ones...and other people are just so above eating disorders that they'd lose patience very quickly.

i've been talking to my old roomate from renfrew who is recovered, but it seems like something blocks it everytime i try to ask something that really digs into recovery. and, again, i don't want to trigger.

i really don't know how to turn back. i don't. i exercised a little less today...50 calories less. and i'm planning on just taking a little walk tomorrow. i thought there was a breakfast tomorrow at school, but there's not. i had been saving up for it. so now what? i don't know i don't know. what SHOULD happen is that i should continue exercising, but increase my calorie intake in a MAJOR MAJOR WAY. that way i'll gain, but i'll know it's muscle, and maybe i'll even gain more evenly (it tends to go right to my belly, which is a huge huge huge obsession/trigger for me).

bmi: 15.78.

i've vomited this all out. now what?

2006-11-18T14:41:00.000-05:00

there's an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other--only, i don't know which is which. i don't know if i'm past a complete relapse or on my way to one. on the one hand, i've eaten more "unsafe" foods in the last couple months than i had in the last couple of years. i'm writing this here knowing that my husband will read it. when i tried to restrict today i felt like hell so terribly that i just didn't want to do this to myself. when i make plans, i tend not to follow through with them. i didn't buy THE anorexic meal i said i'd never eat again.

on the other hand, i still make plans. i thought about buying it. the completely out of control eating seems to have subsided, and now i'm back to my normal "if it's in front of me and it's yummy, i can't resist it" mode. although, friday, i didn't eat a pastry that i wanted. and i'm pretty sure that the super-super-sick feeling with restriction goes away. i don't think i'd stick with something that causes such nausea (i had breakfast, but i guess i had too much regular coffee).

i've taken this pity party into bed.

sean, i am being quite moderate with the exercise. i have a maximum: 3 hours a week, which INCLUDES cool-down and stretching. my discharge papers said 30-60 minutes, 3-5 times a week. that's 1.5 - 5 hours. i'm closer to the minimum. and i'm taking it easy. but most importantly, i feel less stressed walking out than i did walking in. i didn't even realize i was stressed.

okay but back to the angel on one shoulder the devil on the other. i'm sick of group. i've started the process of leaving. what i mean is that, rather than "threatening" to leave because of an unpleasant interaction, i'm seriously talking it over with my therapist. to be honest, i resent that--i didn't talk at ALL about my mom's visit last week, and that's ridiculous because i had a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR trigger happen.

i resent a LOT about the group.

i resent that anytime my therapist (who cofacilitates) does any kind of interaction based on knowing my idiosyncrasies, someone throws a hairy cat fit. other people are welcome to see her, but they choose to continue their relationship with their outside therapist. my current therapist is one of only two to whom i actually latched on, and the other died abruptly last year, so i hate feeling like i'm begrudged that by other people. if you're so jealous, start therapy with her. it's practically free...and i will absolutely not throw a hairy cat fit when you bond with her.

i resent being placed in the "bad guy" role in other member's unconscious psychodramas. i know that that's what we're there for, and i know that that is totally how psychodynamic groups work...but i'm still going to resent being compared to someone's verbally and/or physically abusive family member week after week. and it seems like it's always me that draws out the direct comparison.

i resent having to re-live my own past in group. a couple times, i've been honest or scared or whatever, and then the person on the receiving end threatens to leave group in the EXACT same way my mom would threaten to kill herself. i hate that when i speak up, it always always always becomes about someone else. i wasn't allowed to have my own feelings growing up...when i had a strong emotion, it was taken on by my mother and everything became about her reaction to it regardless of how intense my need was. so when reflect on the fact that someone in group is caregiving advice that she herself does not give, and i want to talk about how awful i feel saying that and how on my high horse i feel....i don't want it to become tears and "i'm so done" and "i feel so misunderstood." especially--ESPECIALLY because what is sure to follow: as sure as i'll become invisible (at best) or compared to an abusive person (at worst) for the next ten minutes, that person will receive the support that i never get in group.

i would have dropped out of group long ago if i didn't have someone who was there to help me reality test. i guess that's another reason i get so upset when i'm begrudged that relationship. that and that i've NEVER been close to a therapist....i've never emailed them or talked on the phone...including this one (except that my second-to-last session was by phone because she was sick, but it was still as always exactly 45 minutes). so it just feels unfair. just let me have this. i won't be jealous of what you have...i'm just so grateful to have what i need finally.

anyway, i was surprised that she wasn't 100% deadset against me leaving group. not at all. she agreed that i never get support. she said she thinks people are afraid of me. afraid of my reaction to something? well, it seems like whenEVER i say anything that is important to me, someone threatens to leave group or hijacks the group and i end up just wanting to go home and cut. i can say stupid stuff, i can say supportive stuff, but i can't think of a single time i said something that was important to me, my growth, my recovery, etc., that went over in a way that i didn't regret saying it. if people are afraid of hurting me...well, i guess they'd rather do it the chronic, low level way week after week than in the acute way...

and then she compared me to an animal that had been abused. i still don't understand. i talked to my husband about it, and he doesn't either. he's baffled. he actually told me i'm the least intimidating person in the world. i mean, i know from students that that's not true. most students realize i'm a complete pushover, but there's always this handful that (for whatever reason) find me intimidating. everyone is afraid of hurting each other. everyone is afraid of TOUCHING me. they're not afraid to hurt me. they recoil.

i'm home alone this weekend and not doing great. maybe i'll feel better having written it down. i didn't feel that much better talking about it in therapy, though. well, i'm not going to group this week, so that buys me some time. it's just so painful week after week to see that my braveness in joining group was based on a false premise, which is my lifelong belief that the more you know someone, the less likely you are to be able to dislike them...and so, therefore, people are more likely to like me okay in therapy situations (like renfrew--where i'm pretty sure that only 1 in 40 girls truly hated me). unfortunately, i was wrong. i was even feeling a couple weeks ago that my therapist hated me too, that i'd just become too much. too argumentative, too....me. but i think i can move on from that. i think.

i have to pee.

2006-11-13T21:53:00.000-05:00

mother I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison

ugh i hate feeling so badly behaved. i mean, apart from the eating. i hate feeling like i'm such a...shit-stirrer, and i don't want to be. someone else speaks up or shares their thoughts and they're being insightful. i do it and i'm someone's abusive brother or grandmother...and everyone rushes in to save the victim. huh? how did this happen? i'm like an emotional bull in a china shop. my therapist gets onto me for not speaking up more ("restricting in group"). i do, and i'm the teacher's pet and i get more than i deserve in group....or, i do and i'm the bad guy who deserves nothing more than [i]una risata bassa e ben marcata[/i] for my most vulnerable moments.

at least i have the good sense to stop there rather than engage in further emotional exhibitionism. real punishment is probably done silently anyway.

i just pulled up my lj friend's page, and i have to say, handsome marco birthday boy, i disagree with your assertion. i've never agreed with that statement--i think it is indeed better to fade away. i act like a burn-out-er, but i should be a fade-away-er.

i'm feeling more and more of a split between the two "me"s. one of me is thrilled about this, and the other one is in turmoil.

my digestive system is all messed up now. i'll spare you the gory details, but what the heck? maybe it's the rain throwing me off. i don't know.

my mom was here this weekend. i feel like i was a real grumpy brat for the first couple days. and i felt it at the time, and i knew cognitively that i was incredibly stressed about my voice (this was a weekend i'd normally swear off talking, but i'm not about to do that the once or twice a year that mom visits), but i also knew deep down that i'm a spoiled brat. and then sometimes i'd think "i'm not doing it to hurt anyway, i'm not trying to be self-centered, i'm just trying to quietly take care of myself," but then i realized that if that was really true, if i really wasn't being selfish, i wouldn't have been so miserable. what the heck is my problem.

2006-11-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

the discomfort/antsiness was all at the beginning of the trip....my voice, my lack of seld control, slight desire to be an okay host and put aside my very specific personal problems for the sake of family times that we try to recapture by plain throughout the year. there was no longing for things to go back to normal (either this normal or the normal that i know best but is impossible).

i didn't touch the brownie sundae. i had two slices of my magic potion the pudding pie. i made socially awkward statements about "strainging my voice" (something neither i or the inquirir even understand)

darcy thinks my fear of losing (the health of my) voice in school is fitting with my struggle to use it as a tool for health. i think i overuse it in group. except for the times i think i'm supporting, validating, or sticking up.

typeing is too muh woek now.

2006-10-15T21:55:00.000-04:00

the reader's digest version. i'll do ten things, then i'll stop and do a sudoku before bed.

1. in some ways i'm doing it. both choruses are doing songs i arranged, i feel like i'm making positive connections with some of the students, and i'm fairly comfortable with myself in my teaching. i'm pushing them in their lessons (or, i plan to anyway...we haven't really gotten to the solo stuff).

2. on the other hand, there are a couple colleagues that i think don't like me, and that bothers me...one in particular because he did what i think amounts to criticizing a colleague in front of students.

3. classroom management is at a crucial point. i don't know if i've lost my drive to "own" my classroom, or if it's just that the honeymoon period is over, but it'll be too late soon. gotta get on it. i've lost them, but i can see the logical (non-personal) reasons behind it, and i think they're fixable.

4. i'm taking care of my voice. i won't yell or talk over them. but then, that creates 30 sec - 5 minute pockets of time where i'm WAITING. but still--no one needs me to be some sort of martyr. i want to sing too.

5. i'm still determined to push them (them being not just the nyssma kids) in lessons, but (a) i can't quite decide how far is fair and realistic, and (b) i'm having trouble remembering how to present basic concepts to the new students (i.e., why solfegge? why is "do" a c here and an f here?).

6. i'm really glad i decided to direct a lot of energy into good back-and-forth energy with the sixth graders. there are a few that i think are going to be AMAZING internal leaders by the 8th grade.

7. i'm eating like a freaking pig. i went back on the pill, and it's like i'm a crazy person. i had an omelet at the cheesecake factory and then shovelled down an entire piece of cheesecake. i think it's the pill. as a result, my body feels SO weird to me. i try not to look at it...i think that's probably the best thing to do at first. i don't know what i weigh, but i'm POSITIVE that i've gained. realistically, i probably have put on a couple. i'm not using a meal plan or anything...which sounds good, but that also makes it easier to slip back should i decide i don't want to be fat on the pill.

8. i love my kids. i see them differently now. and i see that they need me to be assertive and sure of myself. i just need to...keep working on that.

9. i don't dread the end of the weekend. i look forward to work. however, i worry that year of year facing the same dilemnas and resistance over and over could lead me to be jaded or stale or even one of those teachers who retires 10 years past when they should have. i don't want to be like that. i want to keep growing, but i can see it would be very easy to just sleepwalk through it.

10. my picking is just AWFUL lately. i'll pick while talking to kids. i just filed my nails down extra short today in hopes of preventing it. it hurts to type.

that's sort of where i am.

my kids are singing "winter" by tori amos (i arranged it for 3-part-mixed chorus), and working on an interpretation of it for the kids has me thinking about the differences between the fantasy adulthood you dream of as a kid (or, in my case, the one i dreamed of as a 12 year when i started counting the months until college) and actual adulthood. if kids knew what actual adulthood was, they wouldn't want to grow up. not that it's bad...it's not that bad. it's just totally different from what you dreamed about.

i am also reminded that my life still stretches so far ahead of me without my bobo, and i would frankly rather not do it. someday you will die / but i'll be close behind / i'll follow you into the dark

2006-09-01T16:30:00.000-04:00

it's like thinking of your childhood home
but we can't go back, we're on our own

amy, he's not coming back.

he's not coming back.

2006-09-01T15:22:00.000-04:00

and to this day I nurse the fever / that spoiled my poor heart
and i've mastered the art of dealing / slipping away without falling apart
so when this summer, you call-maybe /and ask how / i've been
i can be honest and answer plainly
"raining in athens," azure ray

today is exactly how i feared the whole summer would be--the way i swore it WOULDN'T be. what an ending. having things to do but doing nothing. sitting around and crying. rounding off calories to the nearest ten (170 breakfast / 250 lunner). not doing the fun thing i had planned because i realize i don't deserve it--but that didn't stop me from buying something online earlier today (so yeah you hate yourself for it, but apparently not enough for it to have affected your actions earlier). still in my pajamas and unshowered. stopped doing work (arranging an azure ray song for my 7th & 8th grade chorus) this morning. trying not to nap, but almost falling asleep lying on the floor because that was where i needed to be. yes, it's a fitting ending. shows me how far i haven't come and how quickly i can abandon it.

2006-07-24T23:26:00.000-04:00

Destroy everything you touch today
Destroy me this way
Anything that may desert you
So it cannot hurt you

it's like the midas touch, but everything i touch with my words turns to shit.

i don't belong.

2006-07-22T23:23:00.000-04:00

most of the time i get myself into trouble or drama, it's because of my freaking enormous mouth. and i've been working on it...although, now that i think of it, the big mouth stuff that usually gets me in trouble is over-sharing (saying something that makes people uncomfortable...something my therapist thinks i do to assure myself that people will dislike me, thus reinforcing and validating my self-concept, or just plain old talking too much). but i've also been too loose-lipped in the past, and while it hasn't really ever caught up with me, i don't want to be that kind of person.

so i was confronted in a situation where i had information that i thought i wasn't supposed to have...i was asked point-blank to tell her everything i knew about it.

it was a lie of omission. i didn't think that *it* was going to come up, and i didn't think i was really supposed to know *it*, and i knew she was going to call him to report everything i'd told her...i didn't want to hurt him, i didn't want to cause trouble among the chain of people that knew...i just didn't want people to end up hating me.

while i successfully avoided the diffuse drama that is caused by me annoying other people, it all got concentrated into this one relationship. she hardly knows me, i hardly know her...but i REALLY value our friendship. when she found out that i knew, she immediately asked me why i lied to her. i didn't really have an answer..i guess that at the time i couldn't string together the words "because i'm a coward." i just mumbled something like "i'm sorry...i didn't know what to do...i didn't think it was going to come up..." i tried to apologize again, later, when it was just the two of us going to get dinner, but it just sounded lame.

so we went through the food-gathering ritual, waited in line, paid...when i came out from the cash register, she was waiting at the door. she abruptly announced that she had to go--time was running short. and there i was.

i have this thing about eating alone in public. i'm better about it...when i'm alone all day, i can get food and eat it, but i can't sit down and eat it. i have to be on the go, walking around. even if i'm with someone else who doesn't eat--i usually won't eat, because i feel like a pig for being hungry when they're not. i've made some strides recently (i ate tasti de-lite when k didn't...but i'm pretty bold when it comes to the stuff because it's a "safe" food and obviously diet-y)....

but i still can't sit at a table or at a restaurant and eat alone. i thought about going on to penn station, eating it along the way, but it was all these different foods, and it would be too awkward, and i'd have to go back and get a bottle of water (i had been planning on just getting a cup of tap water). i went upstairs and sat on a bench and called sean and ate the hot stuff (the indian chickpea stuff and naan), planning on maybe taking the cold stuff to the train, but it didn't taste good, and i found myself getting the feeling that i had forgotten was what i was trying to avoid by being a social eater, and i just threw the rest out.

i did get tasti d as i walked to penn station.

i realized that i think i've really screwed up, because there's not much history or foundation or even anything i've given that would give her any reason to hang in there and give me a second chance. i'm just some dirtbag who betrayed her at the first opportunity, so why bother investing further?

don't feel bad for me--i deserve it. it just sucks, because the screw-up was an...okay, honest isn't the right word...earnest? effort to be less of a dirtbag. and in this case, i guess i went so far in the opposite direction that i well all the way 'round the full circle from "big mouthed dirtbag" to "closed-mouthed dirtbag."

maybe if i were more assertive i'd have said "i'm not comfortable talking about this right now, but since you brought it up lets talk when we're all together" (we were waiting to meet other people who were involved).

but i'm not. i see someone in pain and i become a complete coward.

2006-07-13T22:54:00.000-04:00

How could you leave me / When I needed to possess you? / I hated you / I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night /They told me I was going to lose the fight

i knew today would be bad. i had strange dreams last night. my husband's grandfather was still alive...but barely, and pushing himself. i at first offered myself for him to lean on, but then i got scared and told him to take his time and rest, and then he fell. i called downstairs (in my home in delaware of course) to everyone, and i saw the terrified looks on their faces, so i tried to sound light. as i sat next to him on the bed, i saw that he looked so young and handsome--although pale and yellow--and i told him so. next was the emergency room--the sights, the smells, the fear of seeing someone vomit. i felt more afraid of hospitals than i ever had. next was a hotel room in the middle of the night, and tasting blood. a tooth had come out and shattered (broken teeth are supposedly a TERRIBLE sign in dreams, and i so frightened now). next was waking up in some eastern european, just-post-communism country...and finding that my gibberish was, miraculously, their language. i wandered from store to store...

i strongly suggest skipping this if you have an eating disorder--i go on and on and on about food and the other f-word

i'm having a serious food freakout.

i had just managed to calm myself down about the fact that i ate not ONLY peanut butter and copious amounts of graham crackers this afternoon, and then then my student brought me a large slurpee AGAIN and i drank it all. that's a LOT of calories and sugar. he'd never know if i stopped at half, either, but no....pigass fatass me had to drain it.

i added up my calories for the day, and when i considered the fact that i was COMPLETELY STUFFED, it was fine as long as i stopped eating.

the husband came home and had din-din at 8:00, so i had a bowl of go lean crunch. yeah, it's more calories, but it helps you go and stuff.

and then he got out this trader joe's trail mix:
cashews
peanuts
craisins
golden raisins
chocolate chips
white chocolate chips
peanut butter chips

i tell him to keep it out of my sight and reach.

and then he starts eating it.

i probably ate a cup and a half of it.

and it's a double whammy for me because
(1) the pig factor...i'm WAY over a reasonable number of calories and fat for the day, and i'm RIDICULOUSLY TRIGGERED (already took the laxatives, and i'm scheming for tomorrow's trip into the city), and
(2) i stuffed my fat face at 9:00 at night. now i have to choose between (a) staying up really late to let the food digest, which sets me back at square one with regards to going to bed and getting up at a decent hour and (b) going to bed with a full stomach, refluxing, and having to deal with the aftermath (bad taste, bad feeling, voice messed up).

so i'm staying up late to let it digest. i'll go to bed at 1:00. that gives it 4 hours. then i'll sleep so late that i won't mind skipping breakfast (or maybe just some fruit)...i'll get iced coffee...i'll get tasti d-lite, and hopefully that'll tide me over until i get home at 4:00...

i don't know if i'm uncovering/discovering my triggers, or if i'm just learning/assigning them. either way, i want that damn trail mix out of the house. i can't handle it. peanut butter is hard enough--but at least it has nutritional value...

at this point, a regular dose of a laxative doesn't do a whole heck of a lot. probably a good thing since i'll be out all day...

UGH. i can't STAND myself now. and i've thought maybe i should go back to the gym, and i just HATE myself for not going today when my fat butt had all the time in the world!!!

now i'm chewing on papaya tablets and crystallized ginger and waiting.

it's all going to my belly, it's not like i'm in proportion. i can see it: i still have anorexic limbs, but i'm thicker. and i feel so so pathetic, becasue i was thinking this morning that i'm not really anorexic anymore. i'm not in any danger--i never was! my heart is fine, my bones are fine, i have always gotten my period...they're letting me be in treatment because i'm still messed up in the head, but i'm not really anorexic. i can't resist food the way i used to....i'm not maintaining a maximum intake....i'm not purging by exercising anything over that limit...i'm sure's hell not losing weight...i'm not obsessed....i'm totally different. but i hate myself just as much--maybe even a tiny bit more so because i can't (pardon the phrase) put my money where my mouth is an actively, physically destroy myself anymore.

2006-06-29T22:57:00.000-04:00

someone is setting off fireworks. maybe they're "testing" them. do people do that? of course, once you find out the thing works, it's done. the kitties aren't too freaked out, i'm happy to say.

not sure what we're doing this weekend, but i want to have FUN (outside our apartment). i'm going to work with the husband tomorrow, then i may get together with k. saturday i think we'll have family obligations. i want to spend tuesday with friends. i also want to go into the city at some point (tuesday would probably be a nice empty day for it). there. i just posted a thread whoring myself out on july 4.

i would have NEVER done that a year ago.

i'm looking to have somewhat concrete plans--actually, tentative plans but with name would do--so that i have friend obligations rather than family ones.

i was in the bathroom...plucking eyebrows and picking of course (not my nose--i'm a compulsive skin picker) for a while tonight. first of all, i have my hairy freaking eyebrows. but the more important thought is that, after i was done, i put on some lotion, and it was the kind of lotion that i brought with me when i was inpatient at renfrew...

...isn't scent the sense that is most closely linked with memory? i can't smell this without going back there in my mind. and it makes me MISS it. i found my mind wandering into "how could i get myself back there?," and then beating myself up because i'm SO far from where i'd need to be in order to be sent there...and then i was thinking that i'm getting TOO good. maybe i don't need group anymore. i mean, i do need group, because it's weekly socialization and almost guaranteed acceptance. but i'm not "sick" anymore. i'm not. i have been eating normally for weeks now. i don't know what i weigh, but i know i'm gaining.

and then it occurred to me that, because i'm at the point where i'm eating normally nearly instinctively (because i'm hungry), but sort of bewildered by it, i could use an environment where people understand how crappy that makes me feel and cheer me on when i eat. i couldn't just go to the message board where i normally hang out and reach for support....especially after the whole flaming thing that stemmed from my phobia and people feeling i'm self-centered. if i were to say "look guys, i need help now. i'm really freaking out about my eating," it would only fan the flames and come back to bite me in the (significantly larger) ass later on.

there are lj communities, but those people don't know me.

i feel so lonely lately.

2006-06-27T20:58:00.000-04:00

oh my dear sweet lord in heaven above i am so bored.

i find myself debating whether to make myself into a morning-showerer in the fall. it's that bad.

my eating is unbelievable. two mugs of ice cream today. i don't know if i'm getting better without meaning to (well, you know what i mean) or setting myself up for a real freak-out. i have no idea what i weigh, but if i keep this up i can definitely go back to the gym.

2006-06-18T22:54:00.000-04:00

i'm finding out more and more about this person...the bad news is, it's not my self-hatred or paranoia: she really does have it in for me. the good news is that the more i find out about her, the more i empathize with her. i can't hate her--i think she's doing what she needs to do to survive her life. i talked to a colleague today who said, "she has all these preconceived notions about you...." when i pressed her to explain more (or at least tell me if these beliefs she had were regarding my teaching or my personality), she insisted she didn't know. i don't think that's true. i think she knows, but it's uncomfortable to say. i'm sure there's at least some truth in it: i WASN'T the best teacher in the world, or even the best teacher i could be. and maybe part of it is that if she concretizes whatever hardon this woman has for me, it may make it harder for me to let go and form a relationship with her down the road.

i'm so darn curious...but it doesn't matter what her pre-conceived notions are. insisting on understanding them is already a step toward accepting her superiority. and that's not what i want to do. i want to work toward becoming the best teacher and musician i can and to believe that i am a competent professional whose teaching and beliefs are just as valid as those of the colleagues that i respect.

i got paid to sing today--such a nice feeling. i have a lesson tomorrow too.

my eating is REALLY freaking me out lately. we're talking, eating out and cleaning my plate and THEN ordering dessert.

last night: piece of bruschetta with cheese, piece of plain bread, wine, an entire dish (at LEAST 2 cups) of risotto with parmesan cheese, peas, and asparagus...then a spiced pear and vanilla gelato.

lunch today: three pieces of bread, rigatoni with eggplant, zucchini, tomato sauce, and (whole milk) ricotta. (i ate about 2/3 the pasta dish). then a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of hazelnut gelato.

these were delicious foods, just wonderful...but why do i have to finish it? why do i have to eat past the point of satiety? why do i have to order dessert? i know i'm gaining weight now, and i'm having more and more trouble telling myself that it's what i want. i figure, if i have gained weight at the end of the summer, it'll be much much much easier to accept if it's a goal achieved. if i can't convince myself that the goal is to gain weight, i'll just feel like a failure, out of control, no self discipline, etc., etc., etc.

if i can direct my seduction-by-food toward seasonal produce, i'll feel better i'm sure. it's wonderful to have sweet strawberries and blueberries that are affordable. i've bought asparagus, portabella mushrooms (which are fading fast), lychees, spaghetti squash, pineapple, some different kinds of pears, and eggplant over the last couple of weeks.

i was very nervous about last night. i'm not good with strangers, i'm often uncomfortable with super-close-friends-of-my-super-close-friends, and i don't know how to feel about some of the people after the great message board beatdown. i downed a glass of wine pronto and forgot many of my worries.

i really miss my puppy. i'm sad that my parents have moved out of their house. i mean, they've lived there for less than 4 years, but it was the last house he lived in. i guess his ashes are now residing in the new house. i think that's the source of my vague sense of dissatisfaction, of something out of place or missing.

i still dream only of my house in delaware. if a dream takes place in a house, it's always the house i grew up in. that's the only home in my subconscious. i found it on google earth or whatever it's called, and i wanted to cry. i haven't seen it since the night i returned from my honeymoon.sometimes, when i'm driving somewhere--anywhere...work, doctor, anything--i wonder what would happen if i just dropped everything and drove down to delaware just to stand in front of the house. i don't know what that would accomplish except to fulfill one of my ridiculous urges and what-ifs. it would be like deciding to cry over my puppy. i can shed the tears, sure, but there's an endless supply underneath.

So i'm waiting for this test to end
So these lighter days can soon begin
I'll be alone by maybe more carefree
Like a kite that floats so effortlessly
I was afraid to be alone
Now im scared thats how id like to be
All the faces none the same
How can there be so many personalities
So many lifeless empty hands
So many hearts in great demand
And now my sorrow seems to far away
Until i'm taken by these bolts of pain
But i turn them off and tuck them away till these rainy days that make them stay
And then i'll cry so hard to these sad songs
And the words still ring, once here now gone
And they echo through my head everyday
And i dont think they'll ever go away
Just like tihnking of your childhood home
But we cant go back were on our own
Oh,
But i'm about to give this one more shot
And find it in myself
Ill find it in myself
So were speeding towards that time of year
To the day that marks your not here
And i think i'll want to be alone
So please understand that i dont answer the phone
I'll just sit and stare at my deep blue walls
Untill i can see nothing at all
Only particles some fast some slow
All i can see is all i know
Ohh..
But i'm about to give this one more shot
And find it in myself
I'll find it in myself
"november" - azure ray

2006-06-17T00:35:00.000-04:00

this afternoon, on the way home from the city, i took a big step toward making peace with the fact that it's a cruel cruel world. i was thinking about a certain person in certain professional circles who was incredibly rude to me from day one...and then i was thinking about how bad i felt for talking about how rude she was when i found out from others that she CLEARLY has problems. i mean...hi, i'm a social worker...i'm supposed to ALWAYS realize that people like that have major issues--regardless of how confidence and self-assured they seem. i realized that people that hate you--especially those who don't know you--have serious problems. when someone hates me for no reason at all, or no good reason, it's their problems. and yet, i always make it my problem. people like this person who i'll be working with who has hated me from BEFORE day one--well, she seems so sure of herself, so "i don't give a crap what you think because i'm an expert." it turns out that she's just really competitive, and underneath that is insecurity. she deals with her insecurity by being hard and impermeable. i do the opposite: i'm TOO permeable.

some person who's a friend of friend that i've only interacted with on a message board: she hates me.

so what?

and i was thinking out loud about this when i said to one of my voice students (who i have inferred has some problems with snotty peers), "you know, i've realized a sad fact about life. there are always going to be people who hate you and go out of their way to be cruel to you for no good reason. i wish that i could tell you that people outgrew that by age 30, but, unfortunately, they don't. the difference between dealing with it at your age and dealing with it as an adult is that, as an adult, you realize that people who do this sort of thing--people who get so into their hatred--are just using it as an outlet for their own misery and inadequacy. when you're your age, even though you know there's something wrong with the other person, it can be much harder to make peace with it."

i've been afraid to work toward being LESS permeable, but the big stumbling block is this: people who are permeable give people much more power than they deserve and, of course, get hurt more...but they're also more open to building connections and learning from others. the reason i was so upset by this thing with my future colleague is that i envisoned us building a freaking AMAZING chorus program when we put our two heads together, and i felt so open the first time i met her. my hopes were shattered. but i still think that going into it prepared to like her (rather than being skeptical of her) was the way to go.

do i need to develop and "on / off" switch so that when someone hurts me i can magically make their opinion of me not matter to me? or do i need to go into relationships more cautiously? i don't want to be the kind of person who requires some sort of "test" or "waiting" period before i'll accept someone as a friend...and i wouldn't want to be friends with someone who expected other people to endure that.

and even worse: what if the person who hurt you is someone you've cared about and have had warm feelings (toward and from) in the past? you know? what if it's not just someone who jumped on an opportunity to cut you down on the internet, but someone who was supposed to be one of your closest friends...only for you to find out later that they supported that stranger on the internet telling you you were self-centered and that people were talking smack about you behind your back?

this is why i love the kitties so.

i'm not convinced that writing this tripe really is a good substitute for self-injury.

2006-06-07T12:44:00.000-04:00

phase II of my self-improvement project has begun.

i'm listening to the mp3 of my first voice lesson with the new teacher. i don't think i'm doing it right. she uses the oren brown method, which means you have to temporarily suspend the "trained" singing and do a lot of stuff with sighing (glissandos) and barely singing. this is incredibly difficult for me, especially since a lot of the work i did with my previous voice teacher were about adding depth and a little weight to the voice. plus, i definitely got a little more weight in the voice as a 30th birthday present (many women do), and it's pretty super-duper.

i'm thinking about 2 lessons a week for the summer--it'll keep me accountable to some extent. i'm trying to get myself to practice in 15 minute intervals throughout the day, but that's really not my style.

last night, i went to the concert at the school to which i'm returning in the fall. it was hard, but not as hard as i thought it might be. i don't think the kids sounded objectively any better than they did under my direction--but the director herself is so ...fun? uninhibited? she was dancing around and stuff...i often think that that's empty theatrics, but in her case i think it shows how comfortable she is with herself.

i'm not comfortable with myself. i think my mantra for next year is going to be "fake it until you make it," though, because i'm not satisfied with my whole approach to teaching. the outcome was a good concert, but it took too much out of me. i want to go and teach and make music and have it not be such a big freaking deal. i don't want to destroy my voice, i don't want to be frustrated by my lack of classroom management, i don't always want to second guess myself, etc. etc. etc. i want to make music, improve my students' singing, and then come home and relax. i don't want it to consume me--i want it to make me feel the way i feel when i'm done teaching a (private) lesson. that's my goal.

2006-06-04T00:33:00.000-04:00

i know just enough to drive both myself and my therapist crazy. when i disagree with my therapist, i then have to go home and argue with myself: "am i resistant and just using denial, or is she just wrong?" i even monitor some reactions--if i think she's totally off the mark on something, i'll either act like i'm thinking about it, or say, "maybe...but i think that...." because some people think that an immediate and adamant "no!" means you've hit on something. and she's psychodynamic/interpersonal so...yeah.

and i can't believe it--she's my age, but i'm feeling the transference. i feel judged. i feel like i brought up a lot of things i did that i'm proud of (see below), and i left feeling unrecognized and criticized. she didn't criticize me though, that's the thing: i just "feel" like she did because she challenged me and because i either didn't get an adequate pat on the back or i'm just remembering it in a biased way. whenever i feel that a woman (up until now, it's always been an older woman--especially superiors at work) is judging me or (silently) critical of me, but i know that there's no objective evidence of it, i know i've turned her into my mother. i didn't realize this until i found it happening with my supervisor last year. she gave me positive feedback, but i went around feeling like i didn't know if she thought i was doing a good job...and i felt that deep down she didn't really care for me. i started thinking up things that she thought i could do better at work in an attempt to appease her and come into her good graces...but eventually i realized that i was driving myself crazy not knowing...and i remembered doing this with my department chair at my first job...and the whole thing seemed irrational. i mean, if there's something i'm not doing well, or something really worth criticizing, it would be their obligation to tell me so that i could better serve the student/client...

i don't have this problem with my current supervisor. first of all, every week he tells me wonderful things about my work. but he's also a man, so i'm not turning him into my mother. weird right? and i kind of hate that--it feels so mother-blaming, so sexist...i had, after all, two parents. but i think i just generally attach more to women and, with some exceptions of course, i think i place more value on my relationships with women.

so yeah. it's happening with my therapist and i can't believe it. i'm being SO much more difficult with her than anyone else i've ever seen. i usually wouldn't dare to disagree with them, or tell them that they're doing something that bothers me...not even when i accidentally discovered that i had been diagnosed with the dreaded personality disorder. i guess it helps because my therapist is also my group leader.

so the things that i'm patting myself on the back for are little teeny steps in my self-improvement project. when someone upset me, i react one of two ways: withdraw or attack (fight or flight). usually i withdraw, but it's not in a "i need some space and time to think" kind of way. it's in an "i don't trust you so i'm pulling away" kind of way etc. etc. etc...or i'm just mean. i mean, i don't mean to be hurtful. i think that, on some level, i'm paralyzed by shock that something i say could even have enough meaning for someone to be hurt. so maybe i'm not going into it saying "heh heh, i'm really gonna hurt this person. i'm gonna get them good," but i am responsible for the consequences of saying something hurtful.

my project is trying to take the high raod when it comes to conflict. during the message board drama, after my initial poor decision (calling someone a nasty name = fight), i stopped myself and thought that if i stayed calm and rational and not so offensive, the situation would diffuse. it didn't work, but it still felt good that i didn't continue to be an asshole. i was recently faced with a big decision with regards to a friend--a rather old hurt has come up, and i had to decide what to do with it. at first, i was leaning toward the choice that would have minimized the chances that we'd be able to work things out. it was a reasonable choice--one backed up by my therapist--but, ultimately, i decided to not do it because, even though i had been REALLY hurt by this person, i really didn't want to inflict that same kind of pain on someone else. i also decided that this was just not the way air this grievance...we can talk about it later and maybe we'll grow closer or maybe we won't, but at least i'll know i did the right thing.

so. yeah. i said to someone today that i recognize that i am extremely self-centered (can you have an e.d. and NOT be?). i have always believed in the power of the self-fulfilling prophecy. i was told daily that i am self-centered and that i'm only nice to other people when i'm going to get something out of it. while i don't think the latter is true, the former did come true. i don't think i can change this directly, but i can at least turn my self-centeredness into something that's better for the people in my life. so i may be doing it so that i feel better about myself...doing the right thing for the wrong reasons is better than doing the wrong thing. i think this is my last hope, honestly. i'm just not going to stop hating myself, just not going to delude myself into thinking that i have some sort of inherent worth or right to exist and take up resources. but maybe i can gain some sense of self-esteem by knowing that i'm at least minimizing the amount of misery i'm inflicting on others by existing. it's a tiny way of trying to redeem myself. i think it's a good project.