The Stigma Surrounding Being Medicated

Hello.  My name is Twotablesnotime and I am medicated.  I have been medicated since 2002 when my sister Lynn passed away from an overdose of Oxycontin.  The horror of watching my sister die for a week was too much for me.  I circled the drain self medicating and finally landed myself in a psychiatrist's office.  Then the merry-go-round of prescription drugs began.  I don't know which is worse,  the dangers of street drugs or a doctor attempting to find the perfect recipe using me as a main ingredient.  I had a lot of tests done.  That was when words like ADD, OCD, PSD and Bi-Polar whirled around me.

It was misery.  Coping with loss and attempting sanity.  Then getting pregnant and having to go cold turkey was torture.  If there is such a thing as hell, it is being trapped inside your head and not being able to cry out.  I suffered through that without telling my husband how horrible it really was and how close a friend suicide seemed to be.  I just wanted it to stop.  However, I wanted to be a mom more.

There is a stigma attached to being medicated.  Truly.  I have asthma and severe allergies.  I went to emergency care over an asthma attack and the doctor tried to tell me it was in my head.  Can I just say he looked at my chart and saw my medications and said this?  I called him a worm and told him it took me all night to get where I was and not to fucking tell me what he thinks is in my damned head.  Then I guess he saw I had insurance and wanted to run a battery of tests on me.  This is where I told him to basically go fuck himself and that I was leaving.  How insulting can a person be?

Another doctor, my podiatrist took anxiety personally.  How dare I cry in her presence.  How dare I be anxious.  Lady there is nothing wrong with me other than the fact my foot hurts and I waited an hour to see you and I think you are a sadist because there are no stools in the waiting room to prop my feet on.

Which leads me to the whole reason I'm writing about this.  I just called about having my prescription written for pickup early since its due while I'm on vacation.  I was told my voodoo doctor refused this.  I was ok with that until I was informed that more than likely I won't get a refill until January.  So I must go a whole month without my medication.  WTF?  I have been a patient for ten years.  This is bullshit.

So now I'm freaking out that I won't be me for a month because its too bad my doctor won't see me.  My head doctor.  How am I supposed to cope?  Good luck with that Faye.  Bite down hard on the shit sandwich.

Say ummm and thank you.

Beauty of Uniqueness: Collection Reflection

I am excited about a recent eBay win.  I didn't think that I would win when I bid, and usually those are the types of auctions I tend to open my email and find 'Pay Now' invoices.  You see, I have an eclectic love of glass.  No, I'm not that Waterford Crystal kind of girl.  I love the way light shines through glass.  It's mesmerizing.

 

I love the artistry it takes for someone to just take a lump of nothing and make it into something spectacular.  So I'll talk about my collections.

 

I collect porcelain dogs and cats.  The little ones made for shadow boxes.  Some expensive, others, not so much.  I've been collecting them since I was ten or so.  I can't tell you how many I have, but I know it's probably more than a couple hundred.  I'm trying to find something to showcase them in that keeps dust and fingers out.  Right now they are all lovingly tucked away in boxes waiting for the day I find that perfect way to keep them safe.

 

Then there's hand blown glass balls for my Christmas tree.  There's nothing like white lights shining through them.  My Christmas tree is two things:  glass balls and birds.  I try to add a new one each year.

 

My Christmas tree of Birds and Light

 

Moving ahead, my favorite of all my glass and porcelain collections has to be my bottles.  I collect vintage bottles from the sixties and seventies.  The ones with glass stoppers.  They are to be the centerpiece of my new living room I'm putting together.  I have a rug from Capel Rugs that just happens to match all the colors of my bottles and it will be a challenge to shelf all of them and tie my living room together.

 

So back to my eBay win.  I won a kaleidoscope made by Sheryl Koch.  It is magnificent.  I had to tell my husband I won it and I am still in awe of the fact that I did.

 

I have this vision for my living room.  I have custom twenty two foot long window.  My husband replaced all our windows when we bought our house, and that long window lets in amazing light.  I plan to fill that room with rainbows of color and happiness.  Mostly of silicon base.

 

Assimilation is Futile! You will be Resistant - huh?

Damn.  I am going through my CDs and now realize I have two separate time zones in my life in these little shiny disks.  College.  Wow.  I used to sleep more then.. and damn, I own way too many Kenny G albums than doctors recommend. (*SNORT* LAUGH* GUFFAW*)  AND sounds of Nature?  Enya?  Oh Faye.  (*GIGGLE*) tranquility was musically induced.  I have envy of the me before the other me.  Making sense?  I hope not.

 

Then with much work, HOLY CRAP.  AK 1200... Madame Mercury...I vibrated my house and added two more days of music to my disk drive.  Oh yeah, I hate Apple and iTunes.  Useless program that powers my iPod.  Oh well, I engaged the machine.  (PLLTTTT!)

 

I even managed to pull one special CDR back from the dead.  Hemisphere.  Then sat and dug through my records to label the tracks.  What a time in my life. 

 

(Still alive!)

 

I turned on the amp and spun the first six tracks of Madame Mercury and sit here basking in the glow of HELL YEAH, I OWN these records.

 

*Bangarang*

 

Going to go see Cyndi Lauper next week.  I happen to have that Barbie.

 

IT's FANTASTIC!

 

Tying Knots in Every Aspect

I have become nimble in the art of tying things into knots.  I'm teaching my daughter the art of friendship bracelet making.  Upon looking through my craft hoard, I came across some black cord that gave me an idea to replace some missing belts from a few of my robes.  So wow, I learned how to braid a five strand braid.  Excellent belt for black robe.  Nattie is wearing a blue dress this morning.  Found a video on how to tie a bow using two fingers.  Pretty impressive.  Was looking at craft toys for Nattie.  Found a gadget that braids cords.  Cut my own stencil and used yarn to sport yet another braided creation that I'm pretty sure my daughter can master easily.  Sounds pretty fidgety doesn't it?  Why don't we throw in some felt pom-pom hair bows too...modified with a felt flower in the center and I made a sunflower.  I think I'll attach that to a headband sometime.

 

All this knot tying has been fun, but I really wish sleep would prevail.  I'm raging an inner argument with myself over values.  It seems monumental to even unravel the mystery of mixed feelings and unease a dear friend triggers whenever we speak these days.

 

I cannot sit quietly.  My friend violates the moral standards I hold near to my heart, and I realize the sensation as repugnance.  Dislike.  Anger.  Hurt.  Then bitterness..as I see the effects cascade into my life.. just because I am within range and sensitivity.

 

I cannot settle.  Settling means loss of dreams and ideals.  Sparks and creation die within the strangling hold of being less than I choose to be.  This will hurt.

 

Whether we want to admit it or not, other people's lives affect us on some level.  I cannot ignore how I feel.  This person, just by association, makes the past crash into my now and Zen.

 

The more I listen to myself, the more I see the forest.  I must fell a tree.  It is obstructing growth.

 

What to say and what to do?  Be myself.  Breathe.  Sleep will come when the dust settles.  Who knows?  Maybe the tree will grow back and surprise me.

 

Magic thinks.

Hopes.

 

Halloween and What I want to Bee

Halloween has always been magical and so much fun around my house.  My daughter has always accepted my costume choice with enthusiasm and even at seven almost eight no complaints.  I always went overboard because she has always made the costume just come alive in gymnastics and dance and of course, out to trick-or-treat was the icing on the cake with thee oooohs and ahhhs of adults cooing over my child that never appears to be preening and voguing, but I know full well she knows how to work over admirers.

Now I find myself ranting at the computer and realizing the month has flown by and I have yet to go teach Character Education for the month.  I have mirrors decorated for each child stating:  Respect Begins with Me! and then there are my worksheets, and my favorite tattooed picture to rouse up conversation, along with Shel Silverstein's Rotten Convention to read.  The ranting came over having to hobnail my printers together to print off all the sheets for the kids with color.  Now I'm sending it off to a new teacher, praying she likes them and being irritated at myself for doubting my teaching abilities.

Then there is the computer guy that is coming to my house today, supposedly.  Just talking to him on the phone makes my mind swirl with all the possibilities.  I can't help it.  Magic is thinking big again, and my expectations come with a red sticker.  Said sticker inspires people to think to the track 'Do the Hustle'.  I need to stop.  The conflict of what I feel and past experience doesn't rate judgement before I meet him.  Sad thing is, I was more excited in the beginning, because meeting DD DJ was a shiny new experience and how fun was that!?  So he reeled me in like a mackerel just because of common interests, singing with him was cool (he actually isn't bad when he's not crooning country) and he didn't see my knife by invading my personal dance space.  Then, after not enough sleep and realizing I about know his entire life story in less than a month....ooooh Faye.... DJ said Computer Guy was his 'friend'... SHIT BRAIN... stay here....but your body just left for help!!  This inner dialogue reached tantamount heights with DJ being middle man.  Again.  Brain thinks:  THIS IS NOT A DOPE  DEAL... it's my computers.  EJECT! EJECT!  Then I met his daughter.  Oh how I wanted to like this child that was trying to be more than a kid.  But no, gut said:  good with daughter, but she will probably find Shrubbery on first night and have the gall to hang out in your room and breathe.  THUD!  Damn, I know what feeling she gave me!  ITT.  Intent to touch.  I never make snap decisions on kids, because that's what they are, even if they are so ego inflated that high speed thought processing can only be achieved during REM cycle.  Boy do I let my mind just take off running.  Anyway, I prepared myself for disenchantment ... only to find myself putting DJ on cruise, so I can downshift and test this man's injectors.  *sigh*  Listening to him speak was so mysterious and fun ... I finally know a Bruce.  A person.  I have always secretly thought Bruce was just a sexy man name which was pinned on faceless pinnacle moments (There are people that do, and people that lie about it)

OK, new paragraph because that one is on the line of TMI.  Anyway, this voice with this name sounded so 'in season' and I really couldn't divine too much on the phone .. which also means this thing is a bit long and I didn't even reach the part where I dressed up as the Bee Girl from Blind Melon's music video: No Rain. 

 

    

I will dedicate myself to blogging another entry about Halloween, because there is too much for one entry, so.....

Gotta run.  LATER today, I will talk about Bruce again because I'm being weird, and for me to actually see it.. hum.  I wanted to add this man to my bucket list the moment I clapped eyes on him!  WTF?  I'm not used to exertion of composure skills   The crazy part was me wanting to tell him.  Then calling up DJ friend and telling him that he should stop TRYING to ever explain his friends when he has overcompensation issues.  Anyway, I'm digressing.  I do want to twist his ear though.  He's worse than my BFF for gossip that is sideways bad.

So I want to discuss shadows.  Holding hands with Nattie.  I believe that was the best part of trick or treating.  Running with her hand in mine.. our shadows cast stark against the night... happiness..

John observing a bee lover come out of his home to watch Nattie and I get into his truck .. and how I blushed when John told me.  It felt weird to be worried about what impression I left.  I merely wanted to be that Bee Girl.. out loud ... because I always have been.