Day 6 and 7

or why a holiday in cambodia is much more fun than my life.

So, I am regaled to a holiday from Ritalin as deemed by my primary care physician until further notice. See, my life is a tug of war between shrinkman, primary care physician (PCP), surgeon and gyno... I started having funky chest pains (not attributed to my well endowed stack) and the shrinkman thought I was having a heart attack. So he sent me to my PCP who did two ekgs and said one was fine and the other was funky.. "NO more new drugs to keep you awake until we find out why your heartbeat is funky" she demanded as she raised her scepter (ekg printout)..

Here are the reasons I think my heart is trying to jump out of my body:
1. Living at home (I'm 37, have no job, have been very ill and have to deal with nothing but elderly people)
2. Loneliness (besides being addicted to internet scrabble, I have no human contact with people my age except whomever calls to do a survey.. all my friends live all over the country and have completed half their lives while mine has yet to begin)
3. Countless unfortunate medical incidents (my liver is shit --i NEVER even drank, my migranes are deadly-- i wish i could take botox every day, i have some weird immune disorder --kinda like lupus but not)
4. Depression - unrelenting in its grip.. deafening in its silence, i am on more meds than I have fingers
5. Stress - living with elderly, brothers who are pigheaded and other relatives you really want to slam some sense into is the worst predicament .. run Forrest run..
6. No Significant other - they say a woman's sexual prime is in her thirties.. then why haven't I gotten laid in four years.. I'm not that ugly... I like to snuggle too..
7. Living in the armpit of the state - aptly named "herointown".. I felt safer in NYC with my windows unlocked and my door open..

enough feeling sorry for myself... I'm going to staples to appease myself with toner cartridges.. Whoopee...

Day 5

or Never take Ritalin and Ativan on the same day....

Man, Ritalin is supposed to have a 4 hour half-life (meaning its out of your system in give or take 4 hours).. After being dragged to wonderful WalMart and various other nightmare shopping areas by Eldermom, I came home and really felt tired. So I popped in an Ativan (antianxiety, relax you when you've had it... good drug) and calmly retired to my heavenly bed (new down comforter, fleece blankets and cold enough in my room to be a three cats warming me or me warming them day) and closed my eyes to wait for the afternoon delivery of sand from Mr. Sandman. Damned fool I was thinking that sleep was ever going to come. I lay there thinking about every creepy boyfriend I've ever had and all the sleazy things we did together... which made Mr. Ritalin sock Mr. Ativan right in the face. TKO.. I never got to sleep, got up extremely aggravated, incessantly craving some close comfort (or sex which is a whole other story), and insanely aware of how incredibly lonely I am living in a drug induced stupor of depression. Not only have surrendered my former self to this demon of down, but I have lost the sense of who I want to become.. and to make things worse, my life is practically half over (barring any other bizzaro medical problems).. I'm waiting for my life to begin and its basically over. I didn't hear the pistol go off at the gate. The boat I was waiting for never came and neither did Godot. UGH!

Did I ever tell you that I am insanely obsessed with Dave Attell? That's another story. Maybe I'll try to nap again...

Day 4

aka: how Botox rules my life....

Didn't take my little yellow friend today for two reasons: 1: I wanted to see if I was really effected by this attentiveness remedy and 2: I went to the doctor to get Botox shot in my head. I felt no difference in clarity, but man, did the botox injections hurt like hell. No, I am not some vain primadonna. I am a sufferer of massive migraines who is extremely non-treatable by some of the more popular remedies (ie: Imitrex, Topamax, Fioricet).. The only thing that had worked before the advent of the injectable botulism was a whole day in a dark room of the emergency ward loaded up on demerol (to whack the pain) and compazine (to kill the nausea). This in turn would put me to bed for another two days trying to recover from a hefty dose of narcotics. I raised my hand for Botox and my migraine life has changed. The downside of this treatment is that only the wrinkles in my hairline and the back of my neck will ever be smoothed out because the injections are given along the migraine pathline. So, if I ever shave my head or if my hair falls out due to the Ritalin, I'll have the smoothest head going. Brother #2 wanted some and I told him that there wasn't enough Botox in the world to smooth out the crack of his ass.

Meanwhile, Mr. Ritalin was shelved for the day. Eldermom stayed home all day. Sang the line "gotta get out of his prison cell, someday I'm gonna be free" from Queen all day.. probably the result of renting "ella enchanted"... Thank god for Netflix.

Day 3

or why one shouldn't fall asleep at 9pm....

Woke up this morning in the dark.. yes, at 4am... I usually sleep until about 10:30 am, but today my eyelids snapped open and I was more awake than an owl on caffeine. I was thrilled to be the first on my block to know that Christopher Reeve had passed, first on my block to know of morning weather conditions, and first on my block to know that television (elderly mom won't allow cable in the house... "It's full of filth" says she who has never watched cable) really sucks at 4am... unless you are into the worship network (I am NOT) or the spanish channel (I don't speak a word of it.. ). Didn't see the inside of my eyelids again until about 7:30 when a lull of peace came over me and transported me into a world where I was being held hostage by bikers.. Nice.

I tried a little more than a half pill of the dandy candy today. Awoke in a wretched mood probably due to my lack of rem (the good kind, not the band) sleep. Almost chopped my brother's head off for the hell of it.. He's brother #2 and every conversation with him is an argument whether he is right or right (cause he is NEVER wrong). There are 5 older brothers in this clan and me, the mistake, the start of menopause (or what was thought to be). Eldermom, (a chokingly devout) catholic to this day, insists that if birth control was available in her day, she would have been first in line. Hence the world I grew up in was quite, lets say, maddening, confusing, and full of loud, obnoxious screaming. I did survive having only one bathroom and 8 of us in the house. No wonder I can drink like a camel and never ever pee. My bladder must be the size of the grand canyon.

Getting back to the speed of things.. I feel no different than I did yesterday, except for a little more irritated, a little more aggravated and a lot older (seconds-wise). No more clearer, no more happier but no less lighter.

Day 1 and 2

Shrinkman decides my life is physically and mentally in a huge rut which is no surprise to me. I've been this way for years, suffering from a variety of depressive states which runs in my family. My last episode of depression (which has ruined my social life) has taken me on a journey back home to live with my elderly mom (which of course has ruined my social and whatever you want to call a sex life), without a job (which of course has ruined my financial life, social and sex life) onto a minimalistic, ritualistic, self-depricating mode of existance. After trying every anti-depressant known to humans, the shrink-man decided that my metabolism might need a new kick-start.. hence the pathway to Ritalin.

Day 1: I take half a pill. I don't feel any different until an hour later when I am driving down the road in Rhode Island. I suddenly feel a bit clearer.. like I can see better (great, this shit clears up my sight)... this clearness lasts for about 15 minutes. Now, Ritilan is supposed to make one able to focus. I focused alright, right on every bit of roadkill that I either passed or ran over. I never knew that there were so many dead, decapitated, smooshed, wretched looking, gut draining creatures along one tiny stretch of road. Ok, I can take a few dumb baby skunks, or squirrels... but not half a tabby cat (the front half precisely 20 feet from the back half).. that really made me wretch. Why don't the highway personnel make dividers with rectangular holes in them, so the dumb animals can at least cross the road... Hey, they' d be saving on cement.

Day 2: Elderly mom wakes up in a terrible mood. Everything I do is wrong today and all I did was get up. "Your hair is a mess" (at least I HAVE hair), "You look like a slob" (Its sunday, I forgot, should I put on my easter bonnet?), "Don't you DARE go back to bed, I'm going to vacuum" (as long as you don't vacuum my bed, who cares?). I hold the Ritalin in my hand.. do I dare to take today's dose or not... Do I really want to be awake for today? I decide, what the hell and suck it down with some tainted sink water (the faucet water here smells like a wet dog). I decide to take Elderly mom to IHOP for breakfast where our conversation is kept to a minimum cause mom's hearing aid is broken and I'd have to scream any verbiage between us. Back to the highway of roadkill.. I don't feel clear, I feel like going back to bed... Always trust first instincts.

The Ritalin Diaries

The Ritalin Diaries