Friday, November 13, 2009

Day: 1

Took my first pill last night. Drowsy, cotton-mouth, light sleeping with heavy dreaming, waking several times thinking it should be later than it was. Nothing unexpected other than the density of the dreaming--all too vague to remember with the exception that the dreams were in color, a point of interest because I could never recall before if I dreamed in black and white or in color. Also of note, I don't often dream or at least don't often remember that I have dreamt. There was one other strange sensation and I cannot tell if it was physical or just imaginative since the sensation came after I slipped into sleep and awoke the first time, namely that the top of my head had become soft such that if you placed a colander on my head like a helmet, and pushed down, my brain would ooze through the holes. Likewise, the dryness in my mouth, which is a known side effect, feels more like powdered chalk than cotton.

This morning, mood is perfectly normal. The meds take at least a week to show result, but I'm not returning the gift. Feels like fresh air in the morning, in the mountains, standing on the porch with the first cup of coffee of the day. There is a slight grogginess akin to having taken an antihistamine the night before and a very slight queasiness but my mind seems clear, cogent, concise. Nothing feels diminished, which was/is my fear, the fear of compromise, that to have one thing would mean the giving up of something else (creativity, sexual drive, the ability to experience the full spectrum, depth, intensity of emotion, etc.) I have these concerns under observation. I am hopeful this is not a zero-sum game.

Hope, I believe is a very powerful thing. I had it yesterday, before my appointment. I had it after the appointment as I did last night, as I do this morning. It is too early for the medicine to be palliative. So, I think there is some combination of the placebo effect amplified by hope. More good news, so far, I say with extreme caution. I am listening to music, enjoying it without being tossed to and fro. Fettle I feel and fettle I have my eye on. I am using 'fettle' in a dual sense/meaning: in the former, as condition or shape, such as one would say 'I am in fine fettle; but I am also using it in the latter, "nouning" the verb, 'to trim or clean the rough edge of metal or pottery before firing.' From a grammatical point of view, I do not know the proper label for taking the verb sense of a word and using it as a noun, which is what I have done here and called it 'nouning,' which is not a word. So if anyone can enlighten me, you would have my appreciation. Perhaps gerund is the proper term, only done here without the 'ing' ending.

++++++

Note of interest: In the last several months I've not been able to read more than a handful of pages, usually only one or two, sometimes as many as five, at any one sitting. Last night I read thirty before overcome with sleep. It seems in hindsight, as silly as it is to say, a significant accomplishment, especially for someone who likes to read. Take whatever it is you love to do and imagine that joy taken from you except in small, teasing, frustratingly minute doses. Reading last night was like drinking water, drinking as much as I wanted. It was like riding my bike outside of the confines of the cul-de-sac, riding as far as I wanted to ride.

22 comments:

Liane said...

placebo effect or not... you feel great and that's what counts, right? your post made me smile.. smile for you ;-) it shall become a habit of mine to come by and give you a daily "feel-good-virtual-hug".. HUG!!!!

Trée said...

Thanks Liane. I am cautiously optimistic that a corner has been turned. I have no doubt and I am under no illusions that there will be bumps in the road. Still, I've learned to appreciate the sun, to not take it for granted. I don't know what an hour will bring much less the rest of the day. Experience tells me everything can change within a moment. I am grateful for this moment, this morning. And I hope to build upon it. Or I should say, I hope that whatever has and is happening to me, continues to show me grace.

Lady of the Lakes said...

This is great news. I am glad to hear it. I believe hope can have positive affects on us, both physically and emotionally. Never lose hope. I look forward to hearing about "Day 2" and "hope" is brings the same if not better results as "Day 1" has so far.

You are always in my thoughts and prayers.

Tight Hugs and Warm Wishes

"H"

Trée said...

LotL, the darkness I have been under has been the most powerful force I've experienced and as much as I am enjoying the sun right now, as good as hope is, I know all too well that hope stands no chance against the darkness, which, when it comes, I am simply at its mercy and hope seems a distant thing, some word with no power. I can't even thing about tomorrow; only the next five minutes, fearful that all is just an illusion, that the mood will change. But it does feel good to feel normal and to be able to do normal things in a normal way.

Leslie Morgan said...

Tears in my eyes right now. Joy. All manner of corny cliches dancing through my head. But I'll just say, "Welcome back. We missed you so."

Trée said...

Thanks Limes. It is too early to say that I am back. But it does feel good to feel solid ground under my feet. Let me give you one example that tells me something is different in a good way:

Over the last several months I've lost more friends on Facebook than I care to admit. I obsessed with each defriending, knowing full well the emotional reaction was out of kilter but nonetheless, helpless to stop the overwhelming sense of rejection. It was almost bizarre to see my own loss of perspective, to see the pain I felt with each 'friend' who deleted me.

This morning, I checked my blog followers. I have one less today than I did yesterday. Yesterday, my reaction would have been interminable, abject despair, of trying to figure out who had left and what I might have done to cause it. My reaction this morning is no big deal. People follow and unfollow blogs all the time, just as I have done myself. I can't tell you how good it feels not to take someone leaving as if it were a personal referendum on my worth. That in and of itself is worth gold.

Now, let me be clear on this point and this is the soil of my cautiousness. There is no new wisdom I have gained that is allowing me to process differently. There is no new insight, no epiphanies, nothing said or done. My adverse situations are no different today than they were yesterday or last week. Yet, for whatever reason, I am processing stimuli differently than before, processing it on a much more sane level, on what feels normal to me, feels like it once did, which is to say, with some sense of prospective. Could one pill do this? I doubt it. Maybe it has had some sedative effect, but life wants to live and hope can be a powerful force and taking the step I took yesterday was the first proactive step I've taken in eight months, if not longer and most important, it feels like the right step and I have hope that it is the right step.

Here is another example. In the last eight months and perhaps longer, there has not been a single day that the thought of suicide did not enter my mind--usually in the mornings. Imagine starting every day that way, thinking of killing yourself before you even roll out of bed. This morning, there were no such thoughts and I was aware that there were no such thoughts because I looked for them and could not find them as one looks in a room, an empty room, looking for what used to be there but is not, almost not believing that the room is empty. Now, it may not be empty even ten minutes from now. I can't say, but it is empty right now.

Leslie Morgan said...

Tears in my eyes earlier, but now openly crying. Ah, Tree, being back doesn't have to mean you're yet fully back. It's OK to do it by inches. I'd like to tell you that I do understand that peering over the edge at your own ending. You're talking to one. I'll also write a bit later on about the 'tend friending, at least from my perspective. But for right now, I'd like to point something out: LOOK at the sheer number of words you just cobbled together to express what you're thinking and feeling. LOOK at that! <3

Kass said...

Trée - Thank you for your comment on my blog. I have a poem on my blog which ends, "...and so I am haunted by hope." From what I've read as I scan your posts and comments, you are arising from a very deep, dark night of the soul. Please, continue the ascent. You have much to say that is enlivening.

Wait. What? said...

You sound good, I hope the meication kicks in and takes over for the hope before much longer.

Trée said...

Cat, me too. My fingers are crossed that the medicine is going to work. So far, today has been a good day, completely absolutely normal. Feels good to feel good. Reminds me of the first day it is warm enough to sunbath and how good that first day of soaking up the sun feels. That is how today feels.

Trée said...

Thanks Kass. Not sure how to label what I have been living with other than a mild depressive state that gradually, and then with alarming speed, moved into a severe depressive state. As I look back on my writing over the last four years, I can see signs of the depression living within my characters so I have some sense of the longevity of an undiagnosed condition. Having a good job with good income and all the material benefits that come with that can hide and mask a lot of issues. Take all that away, and there is nowhere to hide. Today is just one day, but so far has been a very good day and I do believe and hope I am moving in the right direction.

Trée said...

Limes, I would hug you if I could and probably tell you the tears mean more than the hug.

Leslie Morgan said...

I'd hug you right back, too. Hugging is the best - what a beautiful thing to share with another human. You sound GOOD, Tree.

j said...

"Hope, I believe is a very powerful thing." Oh I agree! And I am hopeful for you Tree.

Continued prayers for you - hugs too.

Conartisse said...

Dear Trée, considering where you have been traveling these past years, your descent is not surprising to me at all.

Congratulations for taking yourself away from the abyss through a conscious decision of your own, an act of caring, perhaps life-saving. How soothing it must feel to feel more straight than curly today. Flooding with gratitude. More understanding of what human is, your self, the extraordinary ordinary.

Thank you for all you are sharing of yourself in this extreme cycle of your life.

Trée said...

C, I hope my documentation is not boring anyone, but I feel a need to capture what is happening as it is happening because I know the regret of not journaling. Thanks for coming along for the ride. :-)

Trée said...

Thanks Jen. I've never found one can have too many prayers. Or hugs for that matter. :-)

Trée said...

Thanks Limes. I'm anxious to see how the next three to four weeks play out, which is how long it takes for the meds to hit full stride and where we can judge whether they are working or not. I have still not fully accepted the fact that in all likelihood, this is something I will have to do for the rest of my life.

Leslie Morgan said...

Re-read your own words, Tree. " . . the rest of my life. . " A short time ago you didn't think you'd have one, thanks very much. Just listen to you! A daily pill isn't much price to pay for life. <3

Word verification entertains me! "Sentis" I sentis to Tree with a full heart.

Trée said...

Limes, this is true and you are right. To be able to think in terms of 'the rest of my life' is a very good thing.

Woman in a Window said...

And as you ride the wind does play your hair. You've one of those cardboard strips in your tire and it cathunks, cathunks, cathunks, evidence that you are still alive, still in motion and that the day, it is brilliant.

So glad to see some light.
xo
erin

Anonymous said...

Wish I had logged back sooner to give send you a big hug ***

You who have always been very kind to me....

Thinking of you!

When I battled with Lyme disease ( in some ways still do but much better) there were dark days as it affected mood, mobility, memory. But there is hope and wishing you all the best.

JANETE