The divorce will be final in a matter of days. This worries me, because of the monumental task of changing my name. Everywhere.
Insurance. Work. E-mail. Facebook (already did that one). Google +. Credit cards. Bank accounts. Driver's License. Concealed carry permit (which I'm due to renew in June anyway). Social security card. Checks.
I'm sure there are more that I haven't thought of yet. They'll come out of the woodwork...
I think if I ever get married again I'm not going to change my name. Andersen forever. What a pain in the ass...
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Stronger
You know, when Scott and I originally split up and I went onto an extra antidepressant, I worried about it. Big surprise, huh? Worry, worry, worry. I worried that it would artificially elevate my mood, enough that I wouldn't actually feel what needed to be felt. I was afraid it would just postpone the pain. But I knew I needed to be functional in order to get my life in order.
That first month was rough, but nowhere near as rough as I anticipated. If you had asked me a year ago how I would feel if my relationship with Scott ended I would have said "Devastated". To a certain degree, I was. But I didn't feel it all day, every day, like I would have thought I would. I wondered how much of that was me being strong and how much was the antidepressant.
Well, about a month in things got a bit worse. I wasn't sleeping well and I was occasionally crying at work. That was unacceptable. I mean, I know things were awful but there's no reason it should interfere with my ability to do my job. It's not like any of this was my fault, and unfortunately I don't have the luxury of taking "sad days". So at that point I upped my dosage. And as soon as I did, I felt better. Not great, of course, but well enough to function and occasionally enjoy time with my friends.
Well, I was cruising a long for about a month and a half after increasing my dosage when I noticed that my hands were shaking more than they used to. I had asked my doctor about it and he said it was a common side effect of the Trazodone. They've always shaken; it's just a side effect of both the Lamictal and the Geodon. It's usually not bad enough for me to worry, but this was more than just that little bit of shaking. People were noticing. I was dropping things at work. My whole body started shaking. And when I couldn't crochet I decided I needed to get off the Trazodone.
So I nixed it. Cold turkey. It was pretty uncomfortable for a few days; I think I now know what menopause feels like. Hot flashes like you wouldn't believe. Add in headaches, nausea, shaking (different kind of shaking), and you've got a classic case of withdrawal. Physically, it wasn't that bad. It was the emotions that I was worried about.
And for good reason. Those first few days off of it...wow. I was barely functional. I was barely even myself. I'm so glad I went off of it over a long weekend because DAMN I was out of it. And I was crying all the time. I was so worried that this was going to be my life for the next who knows how long, because now it was apparently time for me to feel what I had been putting off for months while I was on the extra antidepressant.
And then, as suddenly as I stopped it, it went away. The depression went away. I woke up one morning and felt fine. Great, even. And I still feel great.
So how much of my strength came from the meds and how much came from sheer force of will? Who knows. But since coming off the extra antidepressant didn't seem to have that much of an effect on my emotions (excepting, of course, those few days where it was leaving my system), I'm inclined to believe that I'm stronger than I ever thought possible.
And that feels so damn good.
That first month was rough, but nowhere near as rough as I anticipated. If you had asked me a year ago how I would feel if my relationship with Scott ended I would have said "Devastated". To a certain degree, I was. But I didn't feel it all day, every day, like I would have thought I would. I wondered how much of that was me being strong and how much was the antidepressant.
Well, about a month in things got a bit worse. I wasn't sleeping well and I was occasionally crying at work. That was unacceptable. I mean, I know things were awful but there's no reason it should interfere with my ability to do my job. It's not like any of this was my fault, and unfortunately I don't have the luxury of taking "sad days". So at that point I upped my dosage. And as soon as I did, I felt better. Not great, of course, but well enough to function and occasionally enjoy time with my friends.
Well, I was cruising a long for about a month and a half after increasing my dosage when I noticed that my hands were shaking more than they used to. I had asked my doctor about it and he said it was a common side effect of the Trazodone. They've always shaken; it's just a side effect of both the Lamictal and the Geodon. It's usually not bad enough for me to worry, but this was more than just that little bit of shaking. People were noticing. I was dropping things at work. My whole body started shaking. And when I couldn't crochet I decided I needed to get off the Trazodone.
So I nixed it. Cold turkey. It was pretty uncomfortable for a few days; I think I now know what menopause feels like. Hot flashes like you wouldn't believe. Add in headaches, nausea, shaking (different kind of shaking), and you've got a classic case of withdrawal. Physically, it wasn't that bad. It was the emotions that I was worried about.
And for good reason. Those first few days off of it...wow. I was barely functional. I was barely even myself. I'm so glad I went off of it over a long weekend because DAMN I was out of it. And I was crying all the time. I was so worried that this was going to be my life for the next who knows how long, because now it was apparently time for me to feel what I had been putting off for months while I was on the extra antidepressant.
And then, as suddenly as I stopped it, it went away. The depression went away. I woke up one morning and felt fine. Great, even. And I still feel great.
So how much of my strength came from the meds and how much came from sheer force of will? Who knows. But since coming off the extra antidepressant didn't seem to have that much of an effect on my emotions (excepting, of course, those few days where it was leaving my system), I'm inclined to believe that I'm stronger than I ever thought possible.
And that feels so damn good.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Emotional Health: Check!
I know it's been quite a while since I've written anything here. Life's been too busy, or too slow, or a mixture of the two that makes no sense. In fact, a lot of things still don't make sense. What does make sense is that my life is completely figured out at this point, and I'm doing very, very well.
In fact, I've been doing so well that when someone made a comment about my needing to take my own advice the other day it royally pissed me off.
A friend had called me and was needing to vent about a previous relationship and how it was affecting his current mindset. I offered some of my experiences and some advice and he basically said something like "Well it sounds like you're offering advice you ought to take yourself". I don't remember the exact wording.
But I was like...no. And I said that. "No, _______, I have my shit together."
And I do. I truly do. Do I still hurt sometimes? Yeah, of course. Who wouldn't in my situation? Does that mean my life is a mess? Hell, no.
It's interesting and sort of ironic: I'm the one who is bipolar, but I'm the most emotionally healthy person I know. Why is that? I'm guessing it stems from years upon years upon years of therapy, self-help literature, experiences (both my own and those of other people), and having to keep a constant, close eye on exactly what I am feeling at every single moment (and analyzing why I am feeling the way I am). You don't spend that much time and effort working on your emotional health and have nothing to show for it.
I've worked so hard in many areas of my life but when someone attacks my emotional health...well, that's just ridiculous. Nobody's perfect, but I'm better off than most.
In fact, I've been doing so well that when someone made a comment about my needing to take my own advice the other day it royally pissed me off.
A friend had called me and was needing to vent about a previous relationship and how it was affecting his current mindset. I offered some of my experiences and some advice and he basically said something like "Well it sounds like you're offering advice you ought to take yourself". I don't remember the exact wording.
But I was like...no. And I said that. "No, _______, I have my shit together."
And I do. I truly do. Do I still hurt sometimes? Yeah, of course. Who wouldn't in my situation? Does that mean my life is a mess? Hell, no.
It's interesting and sort of ironic: I'm the one who is bipolar, but I'm the most emotionally healthy person I know. Why is that? I'm guessing it stems from years upon years upon years of therapy, self-help literature, experiences (both my own and those of other people), and having to keep a constant, close eye on exactly what I am feeling at every single moment (and analyzing why I am feeling the way I am). You don't spend that much time and effort working on your emotional health and have nothing to show for it.
I've worked so hard in many areas of my life but when someone attacks my emotional health...well, that's just ridiculous. Nobody's perfect, but I'm better off than most.
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