Imprisoned

Ok. Ok. Ok.

I just have to keep breathing. Right. Breathing. Breathing is good.

We were supposed to leave New Mexico this morning. We were supposed to hop in the car and drive away. I certainly wasn't looking forward to the 16 hour drive, but it was TIME. Time to go home. You see, we've been hanging out with my parents for a week. We've been with them for SEVEN straight days in a row. It's been ok. Difficult, and sometimes challenging, but ok. I'll provide more details at a later date. About 48 hours ago though, I started to hit the wall. Apparently, I had one nerve left and everyone was poking it. I just kept telling myself "Friday morning, you get to go home. Home. Friday morning. You."

And now we're snowed in. It snowed a foot last night.

When I opened the curtains this morning, I thought I was going to puke. It didn't help that I had a fitful night of sleep filled with nightmares. There's one nightmare that sticks out in my mind: My parents and I were on a boat trip. We stopped at some island where my father proceeded to piss off all the natives. We left, and then, for some reason, I went back later in the day. They recognized me and since they were mad at my father, they locked me in their prison and tortured me. When I finally got out, I refused to speak to my father.

When I told my husband about my dream this morning, he frowned and looked at me.

"That sounds like you're close to the breaking point." He said.

"Movie." I said, shaking. So we're going to watch a movie now.

God. Damn. Labile. Emotions.

All shook up

DBT started with a rumble this evening. We always spend the first couple of minutes of group in silent meditation "following our breaths." I hate it. A lot. Forcing me to spend a few quiet minutes with my thoughts is more like a form of torture for me.

Tonight started off the same... my thoughts were racing, preoccupied with how much I hated meditation, how much I had to do when I got home, how busy and stressful the day had been, and a few thousand other thoughts. Especially packing. How much I Hate packing. Hate. It requires me to make decisions... why can't I make any decisions??! My pulse was racing.

And then we had an earthquake. It was only a 3.7 but it was centered less than 1km from where I was sitting. That's enough for the whole building to go shhh-aaake, shake-a, shake-a, shhh-shhhake.

And then, finally, my brain was distracted enough that it shut the hell up. I immediately calmed down and was able to relax. I guess it was a little reminder that all that crap buzzing around in my head wasn't really that important. Plate tectonics... that's important.

When I got home, I threw half my clothes in the biggest bag we own and called it a day. We're driving - I'm taking as much luggage as that rental SUV can hold. And toiletries... I'll deal with them tomorrow.

Postscript: I don't know how much blogging I'll be doing for the next week. I'm a little paranoid about blogging from my parents computer... In case I totally flake out and don't post at all, take care and have a safe and happy holiday. And enjoy the happiest day of the year... December 24th - Christmas eve, and my 32nd birthday!

New Jersey in January. Lovely.

I promised yesterday that I’d mention my impending trip to NJ. Since Law & Order: Criminal Intent is coming on in twenty minutes, I’ll try to be brief. (Oh don’t worry, I’m gonna do a post about my insane crush on Vincent D’Onofrio’s character someday. How can you help but love “Edgar Suit?”)

So I’m not real excited about going to NJ in January.

When I talked to my dad this weekend, he invited asked me to come. He’s retiring at the end of January and his company is throwing him a dinner/roast to celebrate. (I should probably mention… my dad’s a Big. Wig. He’s the president of a company with almost $30 billion in assets. Yes. That’s billion, with a B. It’s a LONG story.)

So he asked if my husband and I would come to his party.

“It’s the sort of thing where people’s families usually come.” He said.

“Hmmmm” I stalled. “I assume mom is flying out from NM, right?”

“Yes, your mother is probably coming. Even though she’s making a face right now.” Yeahhhh…

My husband bowed out. He has four job interviews (4 now!!) in January and February. One is near home, but the other three are on the east coast. There may be more interviews that we don’t know about yet. The NJ trip would be just too much. But that doesn’t mean I can’t go…

I talked to my doctor about this on Monday and he and I agreed that I’d probably wind up going. But since I really don’t want to go, I’ll just resent going the whole time I’m there. My doc “challenged” me to feel good about my decision.

“It’s one of those 60% yes, 40% no kind of decisions.” He said. “This isn’t a nice and easy one where you know what you should do. So it’s good practice for you - to feel good about making a choice, sticking to it, without beating yourself up for it later.”

Yeah. Great idea doc. Sounds fun.

So here’s the pros and cons of going on this trip. What would YOU do?

CONS

• My dad’s been a real jerk to me in the past. His abuse is part of what caused my mental health problems. Does he deserve any kindness from me?
• My dad’s chosen work/career/power/success over his family 9 times out of 10. Because he neglected his family, doesn’t he deserve to sit there at his retirement dinner alone. I don't want act like we're all a happy family just so his colleagues think he's normal.
  
• It’s a long-ass plane trip just for one corporate dinner. And plane ride = virus.
• I’m going to spend all next week with him.
• As a Christmas gift, I’m going to go to NM this winter and spend a long weekend helping him set up his woodshop. (He wants to do woodworking in his retirement) So I’m going to see him a lot in the near future.

PROS

• He’s going to pay for the plane ticket. Having to pay to fly people to your party seems kinda sad to me… and pulls at my sympathies.
• The inheritance. The one he’s going to leave me. The really large one. I don’t want to piss him off too much. (Trust me. I realize how truly HORRIBLE that sounds. Still… it’s something that’s always in the back of my mind.)
• I can easily get the time off of work & I can probably squeeze in a visit to see a few friends in NYC.
• My dad hasn’t always been a dick to me. He’s paid for my education, my wedding, and some of my psychiatrist bills. And he’s even occasionally nice.
• My dad has almost no family. There’s my husband, my mom and me. He has no siblings, no other kids, no grandkids (yet), nobody else. And that’s sad. His choice, but still sad.
  
• It’s pretty mean (but totally typical) that my mom’s not even pretending to want to go, like I am. I feel sorry for him.
  
• My dad is self-made. He worked hard to get where he is and I have benefited from this. This should be recognized.
• My dad is not in great health. He's only 60 but has very serious heart disease. He may not be around for that long.
  
• I’m not a mean and spiteful person. I’m still really angry with him but deep down, I don’t want to hurt him.

Missing: one co-pilot

I had an good talk with the mother of one of my students this evening.

A little history: My student, “Jenny” is a very sweet, precocious little girl in the 6th grade. I started working with her this summer, helping improve her math so she could start at a private girl’s school. When the school year started, she was still having trouble with math so we resumed tutoring. She’s a warm kid with a great sense of humor and a beautiful head of curly brown hair. She incredibly creative, always painting, practicing her violin, the piano or working as a mother’s helper. It’s always a delight to work with a student like her.

When I got to her house today, Jenny wasn’t home, but her mom was. They had forgotten I was coming and Jenny couldn’t get home in time to meet me. After her mom and I rescheduled for after the holidays she offered me a cup of tea and some homemade cookies. How could I refuse?!

She invited me to sit and we started chatting. She’d just had her wisdom teeth pulled that afternoon and made a passing comment about hating to be in pain and “alone.” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about… I’ve never seen the student’s dad and they’ve only mentioned him in passing, so I assumed that they were separated or divorced.

I told her about our plans to go to see my parents in Santa Fe for Christmas and in New Jersey in January. (More about THAT tomorrow!) She asked which place my parents lived. I told her that my mom has lived in NM for the past year while my dad finished up his job. She asked how that worked for their relationship. For them, I said, it worked pretty well… In fact, for THEIR relationship, it worked better than when they lived together! “Independence can be a good thing.” I laughed.

“Yeah…” she said, “Unless it’s forced upon you…” I got the feeling that she was hinting at something, so I decided to ask.

“You mentioned that earlier… about being alone when you’re sick… I wasn’t sure, are you and your husband separated?”

“No. Jenny’s dad died a while ago, when she was five.” I told her how sorry I was to hear this and she thanked me.

“Jenny’s never mentioned it to me, so I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good thing. There used to be a time when she felt like she HAD to tell everyone she met.” I agreed.

“Is Jenny a lot like her dad?” Her mom nodded and I thought I saw her eyes get moist.

“Yeah, her dad was an artist and a musician like her. He was a chef and a stay at home dad so they were always together.” I wanted to keep talking to her but I wasn’t sure what to say next. I remarked on how hard it must be on her – losing her spouse and being a single mom. I knew they’d been married a long time before they even had Jenny. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose your husband of 17 years and father of your 5 year-old daughter.

“Yeah, we moved into this house almost exactly 20 years ago. We were really great friends… always got along really well. It’s like we started this plane trip together and halfway through I lost my co-pilot.” She said. I told her that my husband and I are in the process of trying to start a family.

“I’ve had a lot of health problems in the past and I know that’s a huge concern for my husband… that something will happen to me and he’ll be left a single parent. He almost lost me a few years ago and that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do... to watch him going through that.”

And so she asked about what had happened to me and I told her. She didn’t seem to freak out or get uncomfortable. I’m pretty good about talking about my diagnoses and past in a non-threatening way. She’d never heard of Borderline Personality Disorder, of course, so I got another chance to educate someone about it and put a good face on the diagnosis. It’s a little embarrassing, but it helps to de-mystify the illness. I try to remind myself that I have nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Wow, so you’ve been through a lot.” She said, very warmly. “So you understand… you never know what’s going to happen in life.” We talked about Jenny a while longer and then her mouth started hurting so I said goodbye, wishing her a Happy New Year.

When I got home, I felt bad that I hadn’t asked her more about her husband – like I had talked too much about myself. I Googled him and found out that they used to run a local restaurant. I knew the mom was a foodie, but I never realized that she was a chef. I was so struck by what a unique and lovely family they were and still are. Hearing about a tragedy like that… I dunno. It’s heartbreaking and strangely… uplifting. It’s heartening to see how well Jenny and her mom have done on their own. Impressive really.

Postscript: The homemade cookies were chocolate with hot pepper. This seems to be a big trend right now – adding spice and heat to chocolate. I like spicy food and I like chocolate, but the combination… eeech! I don’t get it!

My (odd) adoring public

I've been keeping a list of recent searches that led people to this site. They're gettin' weirder and weirder.
Some were predictably mental health related:

• wellbutrin alcohol -buy bupropion -pharmacy (by the way, don't do any of these things in combination!)
  
• the movie proof mental illness diagnose
• dayquil makes me less depressed
• rachel reiland blog
• im not supposed to be here rachel reiland
• hurt self respect
• i hurt my parents
• my parents are childish
• DBT

Some were related to The Simpsons:

• pockets hurts
• hurt our pockets
• kill the alligator and run my pockets hurt

A surprising amount were related to academics, specifically the ISEE:

• independent school entrance examination interpret
• sick for the hspt 2006
• the gatekeepers- steinberg
• christmas geometry proof
• math theorem
• average isee scores (twice)
  
• good isee scores
• isee scores
• ISEE scores interpretation (twice)
  
• BISHOP O'DOWD HIGH SCHOOL
• isee scores and what is a good score for admissions
• non-profit

There were some pregnancy related searches:

• using proactiv while pregnant
• cold eaze
• cold eaze pregnant

And to boost my readership, I should apparently devote this blog to problems with VWs (I guess I'm not the only one with an annoying EPC light!):

• polo epc
• volkswagon polo epc
• auto review, polo,epc
• epc vw mean
• for 2000 vw auto warning lights anti-slip and epc lights up
• epc check polo
• polo epc warning light
• epc polo
• VW Polo EPC light come on
• volkswagen polo epc light cause

Oh yeah, and Tiger Shulman's pretty popular too:

• tiget shulman karate good or bad?
• tiger shulman in philadelphia, pa.
• tiger shulman south jersey

And the rest are just... well, see for yourself:

• hallmark movie hospice
• seinfled episodes t-bone
• complaints about allkidsstuff.com
• kate bingaman-burt website
• christmas toast nice boss
• skiier’s thumb
• stigation
• hot mom
• hostage situation in the south
• how to tell junipers apart
• skinny dipping wi (I know people like the new Sony Wii, but skinny dipping?)

And last but not least, my two favorites:

• how to make curly fries curly?
• love making lists

Were you all raised by wolves?

Warning: I'm going to get a little bitchy here.

I’ve been interviewing new tutors for my company. I can’t say this is my favorite task, but I do meet a lot of… interesting people. I have some feedback for some of them:

1. To the five people who never replied when I asked them for an interview - What’s wrong with you? I don’t see how you could lose interest or take another job since I emailed you back less than a day after you sent your resume. But if you did, wouldn’t it be courteous to decline and thank me? To the two people who started scheduling interviews with me and then just disappeared – Is this how your mothers raised you?

2. I know I work for a non-profit in the Bay Area. I know we work with under-served student communities. But we don’t require our employees to take a vow of poverty! It seems like none of you have a car! Sigh. I know you want to be all eco-fabulous and ride your bikes everywhere, but that makes it harder for us to get you client’s houses on time. Why don’t we compromise and you can get a hybrid. (Which reminds me; one of my students last week told me that she thought a hybrid car was “like ½ Ford and ½ Toyota or something.” Cute.)

3. To all the highly qualified humanities tutors I’ve talked to – Look. I want to hire you. But I can’t. It just… students usually need more help with math and science. When kids aren’t doing well in English or history, they get C’s and their parents assume they can help. When students aren’t doing well in math and science, they get D’s and F’s, their parents freak out and realize that they can’t help them. Then they call us. Don’t get me wrong, we DO tutor students in the humanities. But when we hire tutors who can teach math and science, they’ve probably managed to pass their humanities courses in college and can teach those subjects too. I’m sorry, but English tutors are a dime a dozen.

4. To the acrobat I interviewed last week – I was willing to look past the unicycle you rode to our interview. I was willing to believe that your previous job, teaching trapeze at Club Med, was… a youthful indiscretion. I’m even young enough to think that living in a warehouse with your acrobatics troupe is edgy and cool (although probably drafty). But dude. When you divide a negative number by another negative number, the answer is positive. Sure you remember calculus. Sure.

5. To the nice older lady I interviewed yesterday – If your three huge witch-like moles on your nose were distracting ME, how the hell is the student supposed to concentrate. You seemed very nice, and I think it’s cool that you used to be a journalist. But you’re just not our “type.” (And the test is called the S.A.T., not the Sat, like the abbreviation for Saturday. It was really getting on my nerves. Almost as much as when my students learn sine, cosine & tangent for the first time and pronounce it “sin” like as in the 7 deadly. Makes. Me. Nuts.)

6. To the failed substitute tutor turned part-time librarian – I’m sorry I couldn’t hire you. You seemed kinda pathetic and shy and I kept wanting to fix your hair. (It was soooo stringy!) But when I told you that your math skills were too rusty for us, how was I supposed to respond to your reply:

“I appreciate your honesty and want to thank you for meeting with me. I will say however that with any preparation, I would have been able to answer those questions. I can do that stuff. Honestly, you just happened to catch me on a bad morning. I felt pretty silly not being able to answer that stuff off the top of my head so I went home and looked up a lot of those questions. I was able to figure it out right away by just seeing the equation. I've helped a lot of kids understand math/science on a lot of levels and when I have a book in front of me and I have a minute or two to remember it, I feel I can be really helpful. I respect your decision and understand you have to do what you think is best for your students as well as your company. I just want to express that I feel like I can really help kids out. Maybe I couldn't remember the m=(y1-y2/(x1-x2) equation off the top of my head but as soon as I saw it, I remembered and knew that I would be able to explain it to anyone who did not understand it. I also understand the reasoning behind your methodology of ascertaining a tutors skills. I would like to also venture that observing my girlfriend teach, she never enters a classroom unprepared. I'd like to think that any student I would tutor, I would prepare myself to be able to help them the best way possible. Again, I respect your decision but I feel like I need to vouch for myself a little bit.”

Yes. That’s what tutoring is all about… preparation. When I hire you for this job, you get a little implant in your brain that allows you to read your student’s teacher’s thoughts. That way, when you walk into a student’s house, you’ve already had a chance to spend the day boning up on whatever subject material the teacher dreamed up when they were revising their lesson plans this summer. Oh yeah, and the company’ll pay you for that prep time too. In fact, we’re a non-profit because we use all our revenue to send your ass back to college to re-learn all the stuff you should’ve learned the first time around.

Oh, and dude, get your “girlfriend” to fix your hair.

Just call me Miss Cleo

When I sat down with my shrink on Monday, the first question he asked me was not the usual: “Rate your suicidal thoughts on a scale of 1-10.” Instead, he bounced happily on his couch and asked “So when did I get a new girlfriend?”

“Ummm… “ I replied. “I dunno… do you have a new girlfriend?” Even though I knew why he was asking, I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

It’s part of a little running inside joke we share, namely that Borderlines can read minds. (Borderlines do tend to be VERY perceptive. We’re really good at picking up on people’s cues and non-verbal signals. I know that I’m good at it because I was always watching my parents as a child. I had to learn to predict their bizarre and often violent behavior.)

You see… about two years ago, I noticed one morning that he looked different… his hair looked disheveled and he looked like he was wearing old clothes. He also looked tired and stressed. I asked him if he was ok.

“God, you borderlines are perceptive!” He said shaking his head. “I’m curious, why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re wearing different clothes, you look exhausted and you’re not wearing your wedding ring.”

“Yeah, I’ve been going through a rough time lately.” We left it at that since I knew I couldn’t ask for details.

Early this year, he admitted that he’d been going through a separation and that he and his wife were now divorcing. I had already figured all of this out and told him so. We talked about it a little and I told him that I hoped he was taking care of himself. I also got the sense that he was back in therapy himself and that it was helping. Soon afterwards, he hired a personal trainer and lost some weight. After a while, his mood looked lighter too. He bought himself a little house and told me about how he was fixing it up.

So I’m sure, when he asked me about his new girlfriend on Monday, this was what he was referring to. I actually hadn’t surmised he was dating anyone, but I had noticed that he seemed very happy lately.

But… his question made me a little uncomfortable. We have an unusually close relationship for a therapist and a client. It seems to work for us. We’re very similar and we get along very well. Still, I feel a little odd when it’s out in the open like that. I like it better when I just read his mind and we laugh about it.

The whole thing’s a little tricky. What do you do when you’re friends with your doc? And do I use my psychic powers for good or evil?

Wise-Ass Onesie Wednesday

husband > macaroni

My husband is off on a play date tonight so I'm on my own for the evening. His grad-school buddy's wife is on a business trip so they are enjoying large amounts of x-box, HDTV and whiskey. And of course, no man play-date is complete without some ball scratching and swearing (I imagine). He doesn't do this on a regular basis.

And it's a good thing. (Not because I don't want him to have friends) It's just... I don't know what to do with myself when he's not here.

When he's home, I have guidelines. Eat a nice dinner. Clean up afterwards. Don't spend the evening doing work or staring at the computer. Interact with the other person in the room. Go to bed around 11pm.

When he's not home, all bets are off. I might decide to eat something odd (like a bowl of brussel sprouts) or not to eat at all. I might use the time to catch up on work and get myself all burnt out and exhausted. One minute, I'm tempted to let the house get all messy and the next, I want to start taking apart all the closets. If I can't make any decisions and get really fed up, I might just go to bed right after dinner. It's like the committee in my head can't decide what's most important. The various facets of my personality always seem to want to do different things. The only time when they agree is when someone else is counting on them.

So this is what I've decided to do tonight: eat a bowl of Annie's mac & cheese, lie on the couch and stare at the TV. It's like a big, glowing pacifier when I don't want to think anymore.

Postscript: soon after writing the above post, our neighbor came home. The cat thought it was my husband and ran expectantly to the door. I guess I'm not the only one who misses him.

Caution, Pollyanna alert

I read a thought provoking post at Anonymous Mom’s site last week that I’ve been meaning to comment on. She wrote:

“Throughout the past year I feel like I have been a traveling cloud of bad karma…. everywhere I go, the people I deal with on a daily basis are also experiencing this…. I am really starting to feel that I have the Midas touch of shit.”

When I first read this, I REALLY identified with it. My husband and I have frequently lamented our “bad karma.” I sometimes joke that I am the reincarnation of someone very evil. Ever since we got married in the summer of 2001, it’s felt like our lives have been surrounded with misfortune. Yet, this past week, I started to wonder if this was really accurate.

I decided that I would make a list of all the bad things that have happened since then.

2001
• World Trade Center Attacks. Our matron of honor, a NYC policewoman is nearly killed.
2002
• Business in NYC dries up and our friends lose their store in Chelsea.
• A family friend is brutally murdered at age 24. We later learn that the killer was planning to kill the entire family.
• I spend all year being verbally abused by my employer.
• My suicidal thoughts return and I’m incorrectly prescribed Paxil.
2003
• I’m arrested and charged with DUI.
• I spend a month in a psychiatric unit of a local hospital and then another month at a residential psychiatric program.
• I’m diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and Alcoholism.
• I end my career as an architect and spend all year in a psychiatric day program.
2004
• I spend a week in a psychiatric unit of a local hospital.
• I’m kicked out of the residential psychiatric program.
• My disability insurance runs out and we struggle financially.
• We battle with our insurance company and ask the CA state Board of Insurance to intervene.
2005
• Over the course of the year, six friends kill themselves.
• A friend’s marriage ends in divorce.
• We battle with our insurance company and ask the CA department of Managed Health Care to intervene.
• A friend is diagnosed with a fatal genetic disorder.
2006
• Our friend with the genetic disorder contracts colon cancer at age 29.
• Anonymous mom’s mom (who I’ve known since I was two) almost dies.
• A business deal my dad is orchestrating falls through.
• A family friend’s son drops dead of an aortic aneurysm at age 24.
• Our good friend, Betty, moves away.
• Just this month, a friend’s son was changing a tire on the highway and was struck by a drunk driver.

So… it doesn’t look very good. That’s a lot of bad stuff.

But then, I started thinking. There’s a good side to a lot of those things.

• Our friend who lost her store in Chelsea can now be a stay-at-home mom.
• Yes, I ended my career as an architect, but I got rid of the verbally abusive employer. This allowed me to became a teacher – something I’d always wanted to do. And since I started this career path, I’ve never been at a loss for work. In fact, people have let me run three different companies!
• Yes, my suicidal thoughts returned, but I finally got help for them. Yes, I was in multiple hospitals and day programs, but I met good, decent therapists (for the most part) and got good help that I’d been needed for ages. Yes, I got those lousy diagnoses but frankly, they were correct and helped me finally understand myself.
• Yes, I was arrested and deserved it. But I came close to dying that night and I lived. AND I’ve been sober for the past four years. Something I thought I could never accomplish.
• We have fought many battles with our insurance companies, but so far, we have forced them to pay for nearly everything.
• Six friends did commit suicide, but I’ve made great friends and met amazing people. And I’ve finally met and connected with other people with mental illnesses and hospitalizations – something I’d always wanted.
• Yes, we’ve struggled financially but my husband got his PhD, has had a successful post-doctorate fellowship, and is now looking for professorships. For the first time, our financial outlook is not so bleak.
• Our friend with the fatal genetic disorder was glad to finally know what was wrong with her. Even though doctors doubted there was anything wrong with her, she kept pushing for an answer. Her perseverance meant that she was able to catch the colon cancer before it had metastasized.
• Our good friend, Betty, did move away, but she is building a wonderful new life in her home state.
• My parents retired to a beautiful estate outside of Santa Fe and we get along with them better than we ever have.
• I’ve been off meds with the goal of getting pregnant for five months. And although I’m not pregnant, YET… in the past few years, tons of our friends have had trouble-free pregnancies and have given birth to happy, healthy, wonderful children.
• Despite all my troubles, my husband hung in there with me and we have been together for 11 years.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not implying for ONE SECOND that anonymous mom has it wrong. There are years where everything just goes to shit. And there certainly are events that lead to no happy endings – our friend who was murdered, September 11th, and near-death experiences are never good. NEVER.

I guess I was just surprised to look up and realize that I no longer have a black cloud hanging over my head. A lot of the things that I thought were terrible tragedies have actually made my life better in the long run. They were incredibly painful (or “hella painful” as one of my students would say) but they were sorta… worth it.

Hey, I did warn you that I was going to sound like a Pollyanna… (Ah, Haley Mills, so talented and yet so possessed looking in the above picture.)

If this tree had candles, they'd be burning at both ends

So it's been a few days since I've posted... nothin's wrong. I've just been busy. Here's a little summary to catch you up:

Wednesday:

• I worked without stopping from 9am - 6pm. An unusually long work day for me. (I've been interviewing new tutors for my company - a task which takes a lot of time.)
• From 7-9pm, I had DBT. Then we watched the Mythbuster's holiday special.
  

Thursday:

• In the morning, I made the 100mi round trip to Palo Alto to meet with my doctor. (Yeah, I know, that's too far to drive to see a doc, but what can I do? I used to live down the street from his office and then we moved.)
• That afternoon, I tutored from 12 - 5:30pm.
• Then I picked up my husband and we drove back down to Palo Alto! 100 more miles on the car, but it was worth it to wish our friend a happy 30th birthday. We had a nice time and even got to meet another friend's 3-week old baby. Ah, jealousy.

Friday:

• In the morning, I interviewed four potential tutors in person. Hired two tutors who are dating each other and just rode their bikes across the US. Hired another guy who installs backyard vegetable gardens part-time. Nice people who could all do math! Didn't hire the acrobat who juggles fire and rides a unicycle. (you're welcome Betty!)
• From 12-2pm I went to my depression support group. There was pizza! (depression? What depression?)
  
• More interviews and tutoring from 2-7pm.
• After dinner, I went to Sparknotes and read up on "The Gilded Age & the Progressive Era (1877–1917)." (Yes, I'm a nerd. But, earlier in the afternoon, I was helping one of my students study this period for a history test. I'm always chagrined by how little history I retain.)
  

Saturday:

• House was filthy so we cleaned all morning.
• An old friend from college came over. He came with my husband and I to get a Christmas tree. (Considering it's a 7-8' tree, I thought $50 was a pretty good price. Of course, we did go to the tree lot next to the highway in a rather sketchy local town... ) We then spent the afternoon setting it up.
• Spent a nice evening with my husband - went out to a local diner, browsed at a good bookstore, and then spent some "quality" time together.
• I fell sound asleep at 10 while debating baby names for our yet-to-be-conceived future child. (I no longer like the name Gabriel. In fact, we like NO boy names. Hmmmm. Any suggestions? It can't contain an "oo" sound like in Juniper or end in the letter n.)
  

Sunday:

• Sunday mornings are devoted to the New York Times, of course.
• I tutored all afternoon from 12-5pm.

I need to have a bit more down time next week. Whenever I get too busy, I burn out fast.

But the tree does looks great!

ah, adolescence - a play in two acts

Scene One:
I had to reprimand one of my students yesterday. It was Michael, the infamous son of “Hairy” who I’ve blogged about before.

When I showed up, I discovered that he STILL hadn’t done any of the ISEE homework I’d assigned him. Two weeks ago, I asked him to write a 20-minute practice essay based on one of the questions in the test prep book. He didn’t do it.

At our next lesson, I helped him write an outline and asked him to finish the essay for homework. As soon as he showed me that he knew how to do it, I’d get off his back, I promised. He turned the outline into one, six-sentence paragraph. Not good enough, I told him.

He told me he had a hard time with the essay question. He couldn’t think of an answer. So I gave him a different question and told him to write another essay. He didn’t do it.

“Basically, there’s no point in studying for this test anymore.” He whined. “I just suck at it and I’m not going to get better before Saturday.”

“Uh, first of all, you don’t suck at it. But how do you expect to improve your score if you don’t practice.” He didn’t have an answer for this. “So you’ve just decided that you’re not going to do any more work I assign because it’s a lost cause, right?” He nodded.

“Honestly Michael…” Now I was starting to get annoyed. “This is a waste of my time and your parent’s money. If you don’t want to do any more prep, that’s your choice. But you should have the guts to tell your parents so they can call me and tell me not to come.”

“But my parents don’t listen! They’re going to make me do this even if I don’t want to!”

He has a point there. His dad IS the main problem. We have a company policy that when a student doesn’t complete their homework, the tutor is supposed to leave. The parents still get charged (and, of course, tell the kid never to pull that again) and the student learns some responsibility. It’s a little harsh the first time, but ultimately, the student does the work and gets more out of the tutoring. But the one time I left early (Michael didn't have any assignments to work on and I told him I'd credit him for the time) his dad called and yelled at me.

“Ok, that’s fine. But I’m trying to help you. If you don’t prepare, you’re just wasting my time. When you act like this, I feel like you’re treating me with respect.” He sat there glaring at his shoes. “Do you disagree?”

“No.”

“Ok, well then, would you apologize to me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He actually sounded sincere.

“Thanks. I feel much better now. I’ll tell your mom that we’re done with test prep tutoring.”

We left it at that and had a pleasant rest of our session together. I got heard and he got the chance to make up, in part, for his bad choices. He actually seemed a little relieved.


Scene Two:
Michael had to write a book report on Last of the Mohicans for his 8th grade English teacher. He had a hard time even finishing the book (which is quite long) and now I’m wondering if he really finished it or was simply fibbing. He admitted that he’d looked at Cliff Notes’ website for help and insisted he HADN’T plagiarized it.

When I read his essay though, I was skeptical. His essay was sprinkled with phrases like:

“Fort William Henry, which is besieged by the French near Lake George…. the villainous Huron escapes…. the Huron coldly proposes to Cora…. Hawkeye effects his escape and Alice's through disguise….
Tamenund sadly comments upon the worsening historic plight of the American Indians and particularly upon the tragically accomplished demise of the wise and noble race of Mohicans.”

Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t know a lot of 13-year-old boys who write like this.

I told him that I thought that the writing sounded too mature. He insisted that he hadn’t copied it. I told him I was going to check the website when I got home. He said, ok.

I checked tonight. He’s right. He didn’t copy it word for word. But otherwise, it’s almost exactly the same. Sigh.

I called his mom and told her that he should re-do the essay completely. She was nice about it. I guess this is yet another chance for him to learn a lesson about responsibility. If only I thought his dad wouldn’t come down so hard on him.

I like it when my students learn… but I hate it when they insist on learning the hard way.

images: N C Wyeth, "The Last of the Mohicans" (1919)

Mormons 1, cold virus 0

I got a lot of yesterday’s list done today!

I’m almost finished with my Christmas shopping! Maybe one more little thing for dad and I’d like to check out one more store for my husband. Then all I have to do is wrapping and shipping!

I talked to my mom today. She wasn’t pissed.

I sent out the work-related email that I’d been avoiding. I also emailed my friend who I was worried about and my other friend about Christmas tree shopping.

I EVEN went to the post office and mailed everything!

Tomorrow I’m going to tackle the laundry, Barnes & Noble, the rental car and the bills. I might even try to go for a walk!

Of course, the cleaning, writing, reading and piano… that’ll have to wait a bit longer.

God… it feels good to be healthier!

PS. I found out my strangely nice boss is a Mormon pastor. This explains a LOT. I wonder if he's a member here:


Believe it or not, this is our local Mormon temple. They seem to be doing rather... WELL for themselves, no?

Progress

I actually got something done today!

I woke up at 10am, actually ready to get out of bed! For the past two weeks, in a desperate attempt to get over this never ending cold, I’ve tried to wring every drop of sleep out of every available minute.

And so I got up and read the paper. Then I went out and tutored three students.

And then I called Betty! I finally had enough time, energy and voice to call. We had a nice conversation.

AND then I finished our Christmas cards. OK, so only 1/3 of the people on our list are getting a photocopy of a short letter and the rest aren’t getting a note. I consider that a half-assed job, but at least I finished them!

AND I did the dishes (my husband made a lovely steak).

So that’s all good.

Now. Here’s a list of all the things I should’ve done, but didn’t:
1. Catch up on the laundry that built up when I was sick last week.
2. Finish my Christmas shopping, online and otherwise.
3. Talk to my mom. I thought she was going to call??? Great, now I’m worrying that she’s pissed at me.
4. Send out the work-related email that I’ve been avoiding.
5. Rent a car for our Christmas vacation.
6. Call my depressed friend and see if she’s ok. She cancelled a get-together on Friday.
7. Go to Barnes & Noble and get gift certificates for all my nieces and nephews.
8. Email my friend and ask him if he wants to get a Christmas tree with us next weekend.
9. Pay bills.
10. Mail some letters and packages that have been lingering in my car.
11. Clean any part of my house.
12. Work on my book.
13. Practice the piano.
14. Turn off the darn TV and read a book for a change.
15. Exercise. Right. What the hell is that?

This is the not so fun thing I do to myself. Even when I should feel a sense of accomplishment… like today, I just start to think about all the things I should ALSO have done. Sometimes, it’s easier to be sick and have an excuse. Mental illness can be enticing that way too. If I’m crazy, then I don’t have to be responsible.

But. I don’t want to be crazy. And all that stuff is less important than me.

Self Respect, now with FREE Super Saver Shipping

First, a quick illness update: We’re both still sick. My voice has improved from a squished mouse to a heavy smoker choking on a clarinet. At 3:26am last night, my husband started coughing so loud that he woke up the neighbors. I’m not exaggerating. He’s going to the doctor tomorrow, thankfully. Maybe someday, if we ever get a decent night’s sleep, we’ll get better.

In other news: My boss called today to chat. He wanted to know how I’m doing… where my stress level is.

Sigh.

I like having a nice boss that I can be honest with, but I can’t help by feel that it’s incredibly unprofessional that he has to worry about one of his employees like this.

I told him that I was feeling less stressed. I mean, how could I not??!! In the little over two weeks since I tried to quit I have avoided work by:

1. Going to Santa Fe for five days
2. Coming back during the Thanksgiving holiday week
3. Getting sick for over a week

Everyone (ok, mainly my therapists) has been telling me that it’s ok to take a lighter load when you’re sick. But honestly, it feels like I’ve been throwing off my responsibilities left and right. I think I’ve spent more time this week feeling guilty than I actually have recuperating.

I start to wonder if maybe I’m just lazy. Maybe I could be doing more work, I think. I’m not THAT sick. It’s not like I have a high fever or anything. Maybe I’m just milking this for all it’s worth, just using this cold to indulge in even more avoidant behavior.

“Juniper!” My doctor said this morning. “I think if you were milking it, that would be progress! I’d say, good for you! We’re trying to get you to take better care of yourself, remember?”

Oh right.

I’m not so good at that. I used to try to ignore kidney infections. When I went in the hospital in 2003, I told the doctor that he didn’t have to wean me off the Paxil. I had a high pain tolerance and thought I could handle it. Oh yeah, and that strep throat a few years back. No matter how much I drank, the whiskey just didn’t kill the bacteria. Every so often in college, I’d decide that sleep was no longer a requirement for me. It was usually a sign of trouble.

Being kind to myself is kind of… a novelty for me. It seems like a cute idea but isn’t a basic necessity. Like something you’d find on QVC.

Wise-Ass Onesie Wednesday

translation: chick magnet

Dumbstruck

I have laryngitis. I can barely talk. This isn’t very compatible with my job.
1. I can’t answer the company phone.
2. I can’t teach.
3. I can’t participate in meetings.

Sigh. I don’t even feel that sick today. My voice just sounds like a mouse that’s being stepped on. I’m just trying to catch up on email.


But that’s not what I wanted to write about tonight.

I watched the movie “Proof” again last week. (Thanks to my many hours riding the couch of illness)
The movie is based on the Broadway stage play by David Auburn. A brief synopsis: Gwyneth Paltrow plays a daughter who has curtailed her math studies to take care of her aging father. The father, played by Anthony Hopkins, is a brilliant mathematician struggling with an unnamed mental illness. After her father dies, she begins to deteriorate into depression and her own fears that she’ll inherit her father’s illness. Fearing the same thing, her sister misreads her eccentric behavior as the early signs of madness. At the same time, a young colleague befriends her and discovers an impressive new math proof in her father’s office. Paltow’s character claims she wrote it but nobody believes her. After a while, she starts to doubt it herself.

To say that I identified with this move would be an understatement. It didn’t help that when this movie came out in 2004, everyone kept telling me that they thought I looked like Gwyneth Paltrow. Um… I do not look like her. We both have long blond hair. That’s it. Otherwise, she’s probably about half the size of me. Apparently, the only time there’s a remote resemblance is when she’s playing a sleep deprived, unwashed mentally ill nerd.

And then there’s the math part. Once upon a time, when I was 15, I accidentally wrote an original geometry proof. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that I answered a problem on a pre-calculus test in a way that my teacher had never seen before. (BTW: I failed the test.) Anyway, I spent the next year teaching myself calculus and trying to prove my theorem. Why did I do this? I thought it would be cool to have a theorem named after me. Turns out, it was a corollary to an existing theorem. I never learned enough math to finish or publish it.

When I first saw the movie, I was struck by how confused Paltrow’s character becomes. She should know whether or not she wrote the proof. But when everyone doubts her, she grows confused. You can see her mind go around and around. Did she write it or is she just crazy? I really identified with that. If there’s one feature of my illness that annoys me (and my doc) the most it’s my distrust of my diagnosis. Sometimes I get confused – I can’t really TELL if I have a mental illness… what if I’m just smart enough to convince everyone?

And that’s the thing that struck me when I saw the movie again last week. Madness IS made more complicated by intelligence. When you’re highly competent (or intelligent) the disparity between your highs and lows becomes confusingly large. One day I’m a successful architect and the next, I’m dissociated and nearly psychotic. One day I can write a math theorem and the next, I’m in the throws of depression, fantasizing about suicide. There’s a certain… unreal quality to this. How can these two extremes exist in one person? Surely, it must be an illusion, a deceit or trick of my mind. I must be faking it.

It’s hard to say which extreme feels crazier... When I do something really mad like cutting myself or getting lost in my own mind, it feels kind of familiar. Almost predicable. But when I do something competent, like conduct myself professionally or fix some problem at work… THAT seems foreign. I’m supposed to be the crazy lady. How come I just got offered that promotion? Did that really happen? I must be imagining it. It’s a delusion. Commence the internal debates. Cue the confusion.

Sometimes, I think it might be easier to be a bimbo. That way, when I did something dumb, at least I’d know it was real.

A pox upon our house. A never-ending, annoying, icky pox.

Alternate title for this post: Ode to a Grey Couch

Saturday the 18th:
My husband came down with a cold. (He probably got it from the coughing guy sitting behind us on our flight to Santa Fe.) My husband almost never gets sick so we assumed that it must be a pretty a bad bug. Thus, I assumed I’d probably catch it soon enough.

Tuesday the 21st:
I still wasn’t sick. (Even though my husband’s coughing had worsened to resemble a cross between a foghorn and a moose.)

Wednesday the 22nd:
Finally, I woke up feeling… phlegm-y. I stopped by the drug store and picked up some Airborne and Cold Eaze. By noon, I thought I might have a low-grade fever. So, I called the student I was supposed to tutor that afternoon, apologized, and cancelled. I drove home, took some DayQuil, climbed on my couch, and prepared to rest. When the DayQuil kicked in I felt… not that bad. I figured I’d feel rotten the next day.

Thursday the 23th:
We slept in until noon… but I didn’t feel that bad. Still, I didn’t feel fantastic and I figured I was probably pretty contagious. So we lay low all day and watched more TV.

Friday the 24th:
More of the same. I slept until 9:30, tutored for a few hours, and then came home. I didn’t feel that bad… but I didn’t feel that good. We decided to brave the day-after-Thanksgiving crowds and go see “The Queen” at our local art-house theater.

Saturday the 25th:
We slept in late again. Still not that sick. A lot more TV. Maybe I’m getting over this, I thought. If I had to be semi-sick, at least it happened on a long weekend when it wouldn’t screw up work too much. Not fun timing, but convenient.

Yesterday, Sunday the 26th:
I’m sick. My throat hurts. I’m congested. I’m tired. Fan-freakin-tastic. I sleep until 11, tutor for a few hours, and come home. I dig out the cough drops and resort to… more TV. I even watched half of a Hallmark movie last night.

Now I’m starting to feel guilty. I’m becoming a lazy slug who lives on her couch. I’ve had almost five days off and I feel like I’ve gotten very little accomplished. My house isn’t cleaned. I’m not done with my holiday shopping or cards. I feel like I’ve watched WAY too much TV in the past two weeks. Even before we got sick in Santa Fe, we watched a Star Trek marathon (the 60’s version) and all three Star Wars movies back-to-back one night. Too much more of this and my brain is going to start oozing out my ear. Someone will come to my door and ask for my college degrees back.

Today:
I wake up at my normal time of 7:30am. I am now Sick. Capital S. I sound hoarse. My nose is congested and my stomach feels queasy – full of a night’s worth of post-nasal drip. I shower and stumble out the door at 9:05 – a full twenty minutes late. I manage to get to my psychiatrist’s office only three minutes late. It’d been two weeks since our last visit so I really wanted to be there. My doc seemed happy to see me. (Actually, he seemed amused by my weakened state. He told me I sounded out of it… like I’d had a few drinks!)

I tried to make use of the full 50 minutes but after 45 minutes – I was toast. My wonderful grey couch was calling to me. I got back in the car, grabbed my cell phone and canceled everything else I was supposed to do for the rest of the day. I drove home, lay down on my couch and promptly fell asleep for four hours. My husband came home, we ordered a pizza, and now we’re watching a movie.

If this keeps up, by Friday, I’ll be out of bed (or off the couch) for only about 30 minutes a day.

The searches keep getting stranger

Recent searches that led people to this site:

Some were medical related:
- Dermatologist in Mazatlan
- pregnancy topical "benzoil peroxide"
- using proactiv when you're pregnant
- pregnant using proactiv
- hospice care columbia,south carolina

Some were psychology related:
- object relations
- positive aspects of stress
- do borderlines run away intimacy
- dialectical behavioral therapy bay area
- psychiatrist denver
- help me god to taper off ambien
- dbt and zen
- united behavioral health and palo alto

Some were Volkswagon related:
- 2001 vw polo epc warning light
- epc polo fault recall

Some were education related:
- yale berkeley "bishop o'dowd" marsha
- difficult scoring test OR exam "catholic high school entrance"

Oddly enough, a few of them were Tiger Shulman related...

And the rest were just plain odd (especially the last!):
- reality
- utah horse adventures d&d
- timmy s. still
- Shaved by my husband and proud of it

Oh and thanks to shoelover who reassured me that 25 pairs is not a lot of shoes. I'll inform the husband.

How can 25 pairs of shoes not be enough?

It's getting cold here in the bay area. (And it was colder last week in Santa Fe.) It reminded me that I need new shoes. Most of the shoes I own are sandals (shown below).

These are all the "closed toe" shoes I own.


Two pairs hiking shoes. Two black, high-heeled ankle boots. Two black ballet slippers. Two black medium-heeled loafers. Two non-black flat-heeled loafers. (The fact that I have two of each seems redundant.)

Not pictured above: one pair running shoes, one pair cycling shoes, three pairs of flip-flops. Oh, and one pair of ski boots... but those hardly count.

As I was taking these pictures, I was reminded of an interesting article I read recently. It's a profile of Kate Bingaman-Burt, a designer, advertising art director and artist. Her interest in customers' purchasing choices led to a project she called Obsessive Consumption, which involved documenting all of her purchases and collecting the images on a Web site.

I love making lists and organizing my things. I like to see what I own - to see if there are things I need or things I can get rid of. It calms me and makes me feel like I have all my thoughts straight in my head. I used to think this was a bad thing... that it took up too much of my time. Until my doctor pointed something out.

"Imagine what you'd feel like if you didn't make all those lists." He said. As far as coping mechanisms go... it's far less destructive (or addictive) than other forms stress relief.

Forget architecture, forget tutoring. My true calling in life is to be a professional organizer.

Wise-Ass Onesie Wednesday

In (ve) stigation: To dig.

Today, one of my students was confusing two vocabulary words. He meant "investigate" but he kept saying "instigate." I was trying to explain the differences.


Then when I got home, my husband and I talked some more about our visit with my parents. I started thinking; this is what we do when we get back from visiting them… we conduct an investigation into my parents instigations. We compare notes: What did they say to you? Did they bother you? Did they give you a hard time about anything? Are you OK? Did they provoke you?

But this visit was so brief… I didn’t think was anything much to discuss.

Oh… I was wrong. There’s always something to discuss. This evening, my husband filled me in on a conversation he had with my parents. There was one hour on Sunday when I was out of the house (I went for a swim) and that’s when this conversation happened.

My parents were asking my husband how I was doing. At least, that’s what they said. But it was just another typically weird conversation, my husband said. There were three weird things about it:

1. It seemed like my parents’ real motivation in asking about my mental health was to figure out how it would affect them.

2. They asked him about what I’m getting from reading the old records I ordered. (my records from my hospitalization at age 15) My husband said that it seemed like my parents wanted to chalk the whole incident up to me being a difficult and defiant teen.

3. My mom commented AGAIN on how “grown-up” I seemed during her visit last month. She said that I talked less about my illness and seemed more focused on her well-being.

My husband's theory is that my mom resents me. A lot. Basically, when I was born up, I stole all the attention away from her. Especially my father’s attention. (He and I get along a lot better than the two of them do.) So when I get sick, she gets annoyed because I steal even more attention away from her. To her, my illness means I’m immature and childish.

I know this sounds a little harsh. I know there’s a lot of alternate explanations for my parents’ behavior. Maybe they really care about my health, you might be thinking. Sometimes I feel guilty for even thinking these things about my mom.

That’s the REALLY difficult part.

My mom rarely says anything really overtly mean… (although when her back is up against a wall, she says the most venomous things!) All her “concerned” comments can usually be interpreted in a variety of ways. It’s more the WAY she says these things. There’s NEVER any real feeling or emotion behind what she says.

So what my husband says… it feels right. He also said this:

“The reality is,” My husband said. “You’ve been grown up for a long time. And you’ve always been a considerate person.”

But what a mind fuck… to have your own parent always trying to convince you of the opposite. It's what causes Borderline Personality Disorder.

By the way, here's the differences between the words (I like looking up the history of words. I find the origins tell you more than the definitions!)

Instigate
1. to cause by incitement; foment: to instigate a quarrel.
2. to urge, provoke, or incite to some action or course.

from the latin: "instīgātus or instīgāre": to goad on, impel
the root of the word is "stīg": to goad, prick, dig (simmilar to stigma or stick)

Investigate
1. to examine, study, or inquire into systematically; search or examine into the particulars of; examine in detail.
2. to search out and examine the particulars of in an attempt to learn the facts about something hidden, unique, or complex, esp. in an attempt to find a motive, cause, or culprit: The police are investigating the murder.

from the latin: "investīgātus or investīgāre": to follow a trail, search out, dig.
the root of the word is "vestig or vestigium": footprint, token, trace, hint

Oh right. Reality.

We got back from NM this afternoon.

We actually had a pretty nice visit. My parents were only there for the last day… that helped. (We were there to house and pet-sit for the last week of their three-week vacation.)

Today was a little depressing though. It was hard to come back from vacation right when everyone else’s week off was just starting. There were tons of families in the airport… of course there were lots of babies and pregnant women, strategically planted to torture me.

Aaaaand now it’s back to reality. Back to our “crap shack” of an apartment. No radiant floor heating, no king-sized bed, no dishwasher, and no avoiding work any more.

One weird thing happened with my parents…

When I called my mom tonight to let her know we got back safely, she kept commenting on how “grown-up” my husband and I had seemed. Uh, I guess… On Saturday I picked them up at the airport while my husband stayed home and got dinner ready. They acted impressed. What did they think… that we aren’t old enough to remember to eat dinner?

Then yesterday, we had a “pretend Thanksgiving.” I spent most of the day puttering around the kitchen preparing various dishes – just taking my time so we wouldn’t get stressed out. (Neither my mom nor I usually prepare a full Thanksgiving dinner.) Later in the afternoon I went for a swim at the spa and then my dad and I took the dog for a walk. All normal behavior for a 32-year-old adult.

It’s reminded me of my mom’s visit in October. She was sick and seemed so impressed that I was kind to her and looked after her health. Part of me is happy that she’s pleased with me. Part of me feels a little insulted… like she expects me to be an irresponsible childish fool. And part of me just feels sad that she doesn’t seem to know me very well.

Besides, how could I be an adult in their eyes? In their eyes, adults are people with houses and financial security. These are the same people that claim they don't live in a mansion.

"But Juniper, the main house is barely 5,000 square feet!" My father recently said.

"Uh, dad, anytime you can use the phrase "the main house," you're dealing with a mansion."

It's no wonder I go through a reality shock when I come back from visiting them...!

Madame Ambassador & Dr. Curly Fries

Sooo... I'm doing a bit better than I was when I wrote Monday's post. I don't even think I've cried since Tuesday morning.

Yeah, I basically cried in front of my boss. Well, I didn't let him see actual tears or anything, but my eyes were all watery and my voice was all trembly and ugh.

Here's what happened. Monday night, I all but promised my husband that I'd quit the manager part of the job and tell my boss that I just wanted to be a tutor. But I didn't feel good about this decision. Usually, when I make a decision like that, I feel some sense of relief. But not this time. It felt a bit too... abrupt.

So Tuesday morning, my boss and I met for coffee before our normal 9am staff meeting. I told him the same things that I said on the phone the day before. I want to keep the job. But the job's open-ended never-ending projects make me stress. Stress is really not good for me and exacerbates my mental illness. (he knows that I have one... just not the gory details.) I told him my doc and my husband are both telling me to slow down.

He said that he wants to keep me. That he's happy with my job performance so far. And he'd been thinking about ways to cut back on the stressful aspects of the job. Then, he tried to have a conversation with me about how to do this. This is the point at which I got all emotional and incapable of reason, thought or coherent speech.

"I may not be able to trouble shoot with you today." I said. "I'm sorry... it's incredibly frustrating, but my symptoms have really been acting up lately." I think I worded that reasonably well. "symptoms." Labile and extreme emotions are symptoms of my mental illness. (They're also symptoms of weak little girly-girls... yeah, I'm a strong working woman... sigh.) Of course, I left the door open wide enough so that the poor guy could think that my symptoms are visual hallucinations or hearing voices or thinking I'm Jesus. (well that last one could be true. My birthday is Christmas eve...)

I also asked him for a little more clarification about my job as "team manager."

"Basically, I don't have a clear description for that." He said. "Just thinking about ways to make the team better, really. Even this conversation is kinda doing that. I know other people on the team have some simmilar concerns. [Our business manager] has told me that this job is contributing to her insomnia." (ok, that's kinda nice to hear that i'm not alone in this, but seriously, I think the business manager works 10x more than me!)

"Well, that's good to know, because up until now, I've kind of assumed that being team leader meant that I was supposed to make sure everything got done... by me. You know, that makes me feel a lot better because pointing out ways to improve employee/customer satisfaction is certainly something that I know is a strength of mine. In fact, I think the ability to tune into what's going on with my students is what makes me a good tutor. It's a good and bad part of being highly sensitive. Perhaps I'm sort of a canary in the coalmine."

So we agreed that he'd think of ways to narrow and tighten up my job description and I'd take a little time off this week and think about how i'd like to proceed. (I needed the mental health sick day but I told him this partially because i'm in NM housesitting for my parents and I know i'm be less productive out here.)

Anyway, it looks like I'm keeping my job for the meantime. I'm going to try to keep this job in perspective and not be so hard on myself when something doesn't go 100% according to plan. And I'm going to try to keep my personal life and work life (thoughts included) from bleeding over into each other. I don't know if that's totally do-able, but it's a goal. At least I got some positive feedback about my performance.

And... there's one more benefit from this conversation.

My boss is employing someone with a severe mental health disability. He's learning what that means and I got the opportunity (at least I tried to) stick up for myself and try to ask for what I need. Yes, I came off as weak and vulnerable, but frankly, (no matter what my father taught me) employers hire human beings and not robots. If I have to have this freakin' disease, at least I can be a good and responsible ambassador from planet crazy.

I'm really thankful I have a good boss who's willing to deal with my special needs.

PS. my husband is now (in his own words) "bigger than curly fries." For the 1,000th time honey... I am 2% jealous, 98% proud and 0% resentful.

employment - (self-esteem)no medication = negative sanity

I'm SO sick of crying.

It feels like I've cried almost every day this past week. I cried last Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday (twice), Friday, and again today (three times).

Oh yeah, and I have no attention span or ability to concentrate. Those things have been replaced by an overwhelming desire to sleep as much as possible.

Why am I crying so much, you may ask? Why the avoidant behavior?

Oh... it's my job. My stinkin' 30-hour a week, part-time, not-so-hard job that I find overwhelming.

So tomorrow morning, I'm meeting with my boss. I'm going to tell him that I can't continue in my managerial position and I want to go back to just being a tutor.

I could go into all the details about why I find the job overwhelming... I could explain why this job is harder for me because of my diagnosis... how the company's new and thus a bit disorganized... how I'm a bit of a perfectionist...

BUT...

None of it would be explanation enough for me. I could cry 100 more days in a row and I'd still think I was a failure because I couldn't handle this job.

I know a job isn't a measure of my worth, damn it... it sure feels like it sometime.

Sunday Book Review

The Gatekeepers
by Jacques Steinberg

I read this book on our Mexican cruise and found it fascinating. Steinberg, a NY Times reporter, shadows an admissions officer at Wesleyan University for a year.

Steinberg gives an in depth look at how the school's admissions committee takes grades, test scores, essays, extracurricular activities and race into account as they pick 700 students for the class of 2004 from nearly 7,000 applicants.

Since I seem to have no attention span tonight, see Steinberg's website for more detailed reviews.

Oh, and just for fun, I thought I'd list all the searches this month that led people to this blog:

Some of them have are Simpsons related:
* homer go crazy
* homer feelin fine
* simpsons duff gardens spoiled sandwich
* homer simpson my pockets hurt
* simpsons my pockets hurt homer

Some of them are health related:
* using proactiv when pregnant
* can you take darvaset while pregnant
* why do pimples hurt
* dbt sobriety workbook
* dissociative identity disorder
* dbt
* health net

And the rest??
* Palo Alto hills
* rochester NY
* living in ireland friends
* proctoring exams jobs philadelphia PA
* standardized test benefits
* skinny dip
* college fuck (c'mon... how many blogs do you think THAT turned up?)

Even us atheists need a day of rest

We had a nice day today… and I feel slightly better on a variety of fronts.

After I managed to haul myself out of bed at 11am. (I seem to spending an inordinate amount of time sleeping this month) I spent (what little was left of) the morning reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility. I think I’m starting to figure out how to get pregnant. Although I knew there was a short window of opportunity, I never quite realized HOW short. I started charting my basal body temperature this month, so hopefully I’ll be figuring out what the problem has been so far. So I’m feeling less anxious about that.

After a leisurely mid-day shower, my husband and I walked over to a local pub for some brick-oven pizzas. There’s a newsstand with copies of “The Onion” right outside – we like to read the wise-ass columns while we wait for our orders. Then we went for a long walk around town. Down the hill, we had a clear view of the bay. It was a nice day… crisp and autumnal after last night’s rain. I’d been feeling like a lump after sleeping so much, so it made me feel good to get some air and exercise.

When we got home, I spent a long while looking for Christmas gifts online. I’ve been stressed out about Christmas this year. Most years, I try to get all my shopping done by December 1st so I don’t feel too panicked later in the month. But this year, I’ve had a hard time getting started; I didn’t have any ideas for gifts and everything I could think of was too expensive.

And it seems silly to buy presents for my husband or myself now - in six months we’ll be moving and hopefully buying things for a new home and a baby. And my parents are wealthy and buy whatever they want or need. Frankly, I was hoping to be pregnant by now – hoping that would be present enough for the four of us. But tonight, I think I finally started some ideas for good and affordable presents. So I feel better about that.

And then I made us a nice salad with homemade croutons and vinaigrette for dinner. So I felt like I’d earned my wifely merit badge for the evening.

Tomorrow, I’ll read the paper and clean the house a bit. I’ve got two tutoring clients in the afternoon and then maybe I’ll drop by some stores and do a little preliminary shopping for my eight (EIGHT!) nieces and nephews. But I’ll have to rest up because next week’s going to be big…

On Tuesday, we’re flying out to house/dog/cat sit at my parent’s house. It’ll be 1/3 work (we both have to bring work with us), 1/3 worry (that we’re going to break the house/dog/cat) and 1/3 vacation (the house is like a luxury hotel). On Saturday, my parents come home and we commence 24 hours together. Eesh.

Then, on Wednesday, my husband’s VERY BIG RESEARCH PAPER is being published. For those of you who know his name, Google him later in the week and you’ll see… There should be a fair amount of media attention. I’m extremely proud and wish I could brag more…


Angry grey pajama man's taking a break too.

What have I done...? Approximately 40%

There’s a meme going around… wish I could remember where I saw this. But when I saw it, I thought it was interesting and copied it down.

Here’s what I’ve done (in bold). What have you done?

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain (I think a 7000' mountain in CA's Trinity Alps counts)
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula (my friend's. named "muffin")
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said "I love you" and meant it (Every day)
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris (including Jim Morrison's grave & Euro Disney)
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea - from the shore
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise (in beautiful Truro, MA. I was suicidal at the time... thinking about walking in to the ocean)
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game (I think baseball counts)
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa (been there, but the stairs were closed by then)
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables (my childhood of forced labor)
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars (many a night)
20. Changed a baby's diaper (thanks Jonas)
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower (a couple weeks ago on our cruise)
23. Gotten drunk on champagne (a lot)
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope (husband owns one)
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment (I used to be notorious for it)
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight (ah, college in upstate NY)
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can (in high school. In front of a building that looked like the word fuck)
32. Held a lamb (thanks 4-H)
33. Seen a total eclipse (standing next to poet A.R. Ammons)
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day (does sign language count?)
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment (amazing but true. Happened just this evening in fact)
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk (all I'm gonna say is that I came out of the bathroom and my husband was standing on his dresser...)
42. Had amazing friends (see links to Anonymous Mom, Betty and GirlMD)
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe (here's a tip... when sleeping on trains, cough like you have TB to get a compartment all to yourself)
47. Taken a road-trip (3 weeks to cross the US in 1999)
48. Gone rock climbing (used to teach it)
49. Midnight walk on the beach (ah, summer camp)
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland (twice!)
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love (thanks Lawrence)
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow (again, 4-H)
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving (50' down in the Bahamas)
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud (after skinny dipping. Should've done that first)
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business (twice this year!)
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken (thanks husband)
69. Toured ancient sites (uh, I have a BS in architectural history)
70. Taken a martial arts class (at Tiger Shulman's Karate in NYC, no less)
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an "expert"
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage (with various choirs)
85. Been to Las Vegas (and got kicked out of my hotel... not as interesting as it sounds)
86. Recorded music (not professionally or anything...)
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date (gotta love summer camp)
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship (twice)
94. Spoken more than one language fluently well enough to have a decent conversation (French)
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country (just went mountain biking in Mexico. Trust me, it felt exotic)
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over (moved to CA in 2000)
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived (long. story.)
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback (I go to a LOT of support groups)
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone's heart (or at least that's what Dan said)
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone (skiier's thumb in 2004)
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol (used to teach riflery)
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse (much to my itchy dismay, our neighbors used to have one)
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi (I ask for it every year on my birthday)
128. Had your picture in the newspaper (uh, graduation & wedding announcements)
129. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about (spreading the word about rights for the mentally ill)
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach (thanks NYC)
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad
135. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read everything he'd written (Vonnegut)
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (lobsters)
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language (thanks NYC)
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream (back in the days of architecture)
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone's life

Yeah, I would've thought I'd have alphabetized my CD's too... But I tend to organize by genre.

Postscript: I had to think about #123... For the record, I haven't visited more foreign countries than U.S. states. Here's where I've gone:

Countries:
1. Austria
2. The Bahamas
3. Belgium
4. Bermuda
5. Canada
6. Czech Republic
7. France
8. Germany
9. Greece
10. Republic of Ireland
11. Italy
12. Liechtenstein
13. Luxembourg
14. Mexico
15. Monaco
16. Netherlands
17. Spain
18. Switzerland
19. United Kingdom
20. United States United States
21. Vatican City

States:
1. Alaska
2. Arizona
3. California
4. Colorado
5. Connecticut
6. Delaware
7. Florida
8. Georgia
9. Idaho
10. Illinois
11. Indiana
12. Maine
13. Maryland
14. Massachusetts
15. Minnesota
16. Missouri
17. Montana
18. Nevada
19. New Hampshire
20. New Jersey
21. New Mexico
22. New York
23. North Carolina
24. Ohio
25. Oregon
26. Pennsylvania
27. Rhode Island
28. South Carolina
29. South Dakota
30. Utah
31. Vermont
32. Virginia
33. Washington
34. Wisconsin
35. Wyoming

Wise-Ass Onesie Wednesday

the continuing saga of angry grey pajama man

It's no wonder angry grey pajama man (see yesterday's post) is unhappy...


Apparently, he has a lot of work-related stress...


And it seems that he's a heavy drinker...


Oh, and did I mention... he's an architect.


Must be why he can't afford clothes...