Don't get the wrong idea about me

As far as I'm concerned, I'm a goofball. I can trip over my own feet and stutter all over anything and generally make a mess. I get a lot of things right, too, but sometimes, it becomes clear that some people have the wrong idea about me.

It's taken me a long time to reach this plateau in my life. I'll climb higher and do more, but for now, things have leveled out for me. I know a lot of things, and I get a lot of things right. I'm not perfect, and a great deal of the time, I do not have the answers. I am afraid of things. I've made more mistakes than I could ever count. I'll make a lot more.

I've been on antidepressants most of my adult life. (Notice I didn't say "all" of it.) I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that interferes with how my body processes serotonin. As a result, I've fought bouts of severe depression. During some of them, I have not wanted to, nor have I, taken my medicine as I should. Talk about a situation ripe for fucking up royally.

More than one semester in college, I had to get medical withdrawals from classes to keep from failing. I've been tested, and technically, I'm a genius, but I was literally failing. I spent more than one day at a time in bed sleeping my life away. I stayed awake for days at a time trying to catch up on school or out partying. I drank, smoked pot and hung out with some unsavory characters. (I'm being polite with my description.) I lied about where I was, what I was doing and who I was with on a regular basis. I had no rules and my moral compass was so distorted I didn't know what I was doing.

At the time, I thought I had things under control. I didn't want to take medicine, and I was determined to find a way to live without it. I didn't want to admit I was hurting myself and if I didn't get my shit straight, I was going to do permanent damage. I was lucky in that I had some friends who looked out for me, made sure no one slipped me anything and I didn't walk off with the wrong person. Not all of my friends were so good, and I wasn't always so lucky.

More than once I drank until I blacked out. I smoked two packs of Camels without filters a day. I lived on caffeine and pretzels. And those were some of my better decisions. I did get drugged, oddly enough by someone I was dating. I don't remember much. I wanted to move and couldn't. I wanted to speak and couldn't. Hell, it took years for me to even realize what had happened, and strangely enough someone joking around, tickling me triggered the memory. Something about the loss of control, not being able to make them stop.

My point is I didn't get to where I am and who I am today without traveling a rough road. I finally started listening to my therapist and taking my medicine. I didn't have the money for the therapy or the pills, but Dr. Clark let me pay what I could, when I could and gave me every sample of prozac he had just to keep me on it. I met new friends that helped me. I had fun without being so reckless. I wrapped my head around school and started thinking of a life after it.

The trip back was slow. I stayed in therapy until I learned everything I could about  clinical depression. I found the reasons I react the way I do. A few years of cognitive therapy, and I can now tell when I'm starting to slide and either keep it from happening or pull myself out when it does.

I worked my ass off to get where I am and be the person I am. To have the life I live. I learned from my mistakes, collected my experiences. I earned this life. I know what happiness is. I know I am happy because I have seen misery. I have lived in the dark places of the corners of my mind. I have been weak and stupid and crumbled under pressure. Now, I am strong and smart and I can do hard things. But don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm not done yet. I've got a lot left to learn and greater heights to reach.

It's been a while

I haven't written anything in a while. Not so much because I don't have anything to say, but more because I have so many things on my mind, I can't keep them all straight. I feel like I'm brain has been put in a blender and then gotten stuck on fast forward. Usually, one part of my life goes berserk at a time, but lately, there is no respite from the chaos.

Last week, I was so flustered that I canceled my shrink appointment because I was so busy that just going to one more appointment, even one that's supposed to help, was stressing me out. Luckily, my shrink is understanding.

This weekend is a holiday weekend, and I'm hoping it will be one of rest and regeneration. If it's not, I'll have to check into my padded suite at Sunny View Asylum or call in unconscious to work for a week.

Who turned the heat on?

One minute everything is fine, and the next you feel a bit flushed, cheeks tingling, ears getting warm. It doesn't take long for the heatwave to wash all the way to your toes, and then your head spontaneously bursts into flames. No, wait. It's just a hot flash. And the fun has only started.

Sensing the increased temperature, your sweat glands kick into gear,and with the pressure of a fire hose, sweat pours out of your body. Ladies may "glisten," but you, my friend, are sweating like a pig. You soak through your bra in mere minutes and start to wonder if when you stand up you'll look like you wet your pants. Your entire body is now trying to either put out the fire or drown you.

If you're anything like me, getting too hot has the convenient side effect of nausea, too, so you're in the nearest bathroom running cold water over your wrists, dabbing at the sweat with a lukewarm paper towel and praying you don't toss your cookies. This never happens when you're at home -- one of the few places it might be appropriate or at least acceptable for you to throw off your clothes and turn on the nearest fan.

With soaked clothes and dripping hair, your body slowly realizes it may have overreacted, and you realize you are close to hypothermia. In just 10 minutes, you've ruined your hair and makeup, your clothes look slept in and you're so uncomfortable the next person that looks at you funny might end up missing teeth. So I say what the fuck ... go have a glass of wine and call it a day. Who cares if it's only 10:30am. The way you look no one will ask any questions.