Still Breathing

It's been a while, folks. If I don't post now, I may not post til the girls are in high school.

In January, I started high blood pressure medication.  Yay genetics.  It's so high, that it's dangerous if untreated, especially with the history of heart problems on my dad's side of the family.

In February, I flew home for a few days to help my mom finalize her move -- as some of you know, after 40 years, the new greedy owners of her building bought her out.  She put up a good legal fight--two years--but she eventually ran out of steam and decided to take the pay out.  Unfortunately, my stepdad is so disliked by the family, no one stepped up to take them in, and thus, they're in El Salvador while they wait their turn on one of two waiting lists.  (We would have taken them in, but our lease is very strict.)

In March, I found out that one of my very good friends has a softball-sized tumor on his brain.  The surgery was unable to remove it all, and he suffered some facial paralysis as a result.  He's just finished his second round of chemo.  We met when I worked at SFSU --he'd been there since the late 80s (he's in his late 50s), I think, but we instantly clicked.  He has a fabulous sense of humor, and we even met up in Provincetown when I first went.  We are both fans of the Kennedy family and Madonna.  He's such a generous, giving person, that it was such a blow when I found out.  He's hanging in there; we text or email from time to time (he had just gotten an iPhone when he went into the hospital!), and he still makes me laugh, despite his situation.

So thanks to that and to all the other stuff going on -- work stress, homework stress, getting-used-to-a-new-place-still stress, I'm now on my third mental health medication.  Generic Paxil, which I started shortly after Art started the new job, made me gain A LOT of weight--even more than I had ever gained when I was pregnant.  So I switched to Wellbutrin.  BIG MISTAKE.  After a week, I had been experiencing headaches and mental fogginess, not to mention some SERIOUS crankiness.  Now I'm on Zoloft, and I actually feel chipper.  Not 100% better, but definitely tolerable.  I haven't lost any weight yet, or at least not that I can tell, but I'm hoping the warmer weather will help me do so.  The worst part of this--officially classified as anxiety and moderate depression--was not caring that I was going to be late to drop off the girls.  It got to the point where for 1-2 weeks, Artie was 30-45min late to school every day.  I couldn't get out of bed when the alarm went off, and at night, I found solace in watching the news and then "@midnight with Chris Hardwick", because I needed something to make me laugh.  Throw in the 45-60min commute in to Greenburgh, NY, where their schools are, and it made me feel even worse about myself. And so the cycle continued.

That's it in a nutshell.  The girls are attending summer camp at the Y in Danbury, which is 5-10 min from our house, and since they've been taking different lessons there this spring, they know a few of the counselors and kids now.  Plus, NO HOMEWORK.  So Art and I are carpooling together in the Prius, listening to "Pod Save America" and catching each other up on the insanity of the current administration.

Thanks for reading.