He's a P.I.T.A., but he's OUR P.I.T.A.

I was just reading on People.com that Sarah Burke, the freestyle skier who crashed last weekend, passed away. That made me feel really sad. But oddly, it also brought a new sense of gratitude, since 10 years ago today, my younger brother was in a skiing accident. He suffered a severe concussion, but he's fine now. Reading that article today, of all days, reminded me what a terrifying couple of days we had, and how grateful I am that one of the biggest pains in the ass I've ever known has continued to BE a pain in my ass for the past decade.

In fact, one of my vivid memories from the morning after the accident was telling him, in his near delirious state, that he'd ruined my birthday, in an attempt to get a laugh. He said, "When's your birthday?" And I told him it was the next day. To which he responded, "Well, then I didn't ruin it. YET." The neuro doc said it was the best sign they'd had that he was going to be okay.

Anyway, yea, I'm glad he's still around. Wear your helmets, y'all.

2012 Will Rock

So help me God, it will.

I'm tired of being this depressed, depressing person. I'm getting my mojo back. By hook or by crook, these things will happen. I'm focusing on getting back to my positive self. In seeing the magic in the world and believing that I deserve my blessings.

That's all I got for tonight.

Whoopsie

I guess I disappeared there. Again. Suffice to say that post a couple down about rounding the corner was premature at best.

The anxiety came roaring back into my life and has just flat out refused to vacate. Oddly enough, it hasn't been all that fun. Go figure.

Any of you who were reading this blog last winter may remember that I was dealing with anxiety over my pregnancy (which I think I did not address until January or so, but which was definitely present during the holidays). I am learning that I tend to be more susceptible to anxiety at this time of year.

I'm also learning that there is, in addition to the post-partum element, a part of this anxiety that is sort of...self-centered/egotistical...? Like, I take things SO personally and create anxiety around things that really have nothing to do with me. And I have to remind myself that sometimes, it really doesn't have anything to do with me. It's a learning process, but I think I'm making some progress.

I talked with my doctor about going back on some form of medication, but pretty much the only thing available to me (because of the nursing) is the Zoloft, and as we already know, I did not enjoy the Zoloft. So for now, I'm going at this sans meds. If it becomes too unbearable, I guess I could give the Z another shot, or I could stop nursing and try an anti-anxiety med, but neither of those (particularly not the latter) is an option I'm really entertaining at present.

I think this is among my big lessons in life - figuring out how to manage this anxiety and live a life that is not ruled by it. ("No shit, MW." - everyone who has ever read this blog).

Anyway, in the meantime, I'm raising my four year old and my five month old. The four year old is...being a four year old the week before Christmas. Anyone who's ever had one knows what that means (read: AIYEEEEEE). The five month old continues to be a delight, notwithstanding teething misery. It does help me to remind myself of the insane blessings that have been bestowed upon me, especially in the form of my husband and babies (of course, I have to have a mantra of, "I deserve these blessings," because I'm a fun, neurotic type).

That's what's up with me. I am a BARREL OF LAUGHS, y'all. (At least I've still got my sense of humor, right?)

Guess Who's Back?

Political Mommywriter, that's who. (I started this post ages ago, but never fully completed/posted it.)

I've been working up to a post about Occupy Wall Street for ages, but it's been difficult for me to articulate my thoughts on the matter. I'm going to try.

As any reader of this blog knows, my views tend toward the left on social issues and more centrist to rightist on fiscal issues. Having worked for a commercial and investment bank for 10 years, I'm here to tell you that the vast majority of people in the industry are neither evil nor wealthy. However. Even the ones who ARE wealthy are largely not malicious or without moral compasses. They do, however, drive our economy as a whole. And if some not very well informed college kids want to vilify them for that, well, it's a free country. But since it's a free country and since this is my blog, I am free to respond.

My main thoughts on Occupy stem from the fact that two of my three brothers work on Wall Street. One of them is firmly in the 1%. And you know what? He's worked his ASS off to get into that 1% and he fully deserves everything he has. He worked his way through two degrees. He worked his way up the ladder at the grandest of Wall Street firms and then began his own venture. He is one of the smartest, hardest working people I have ever known or will ever know. He is honest and lives his life with an enormous amount of integrity. Additionally, he is absurdly generous, to both those of us he loves and to people in need. Each year when you all see the March for Babies banners on this blog? He is, every time, the single biggest donor to my fundraising effort. And that's just ONE of the charities he gives to. There are many.

My youngest brother, who is obviously a more junior type on the Street, has blossomed and matured in his time working there. His work ethic has developed, as has his attention to detail. His already strong sense of integrity has been cemented.

The company I worked for was full of decent, hardworking people who did the right thing every day. The first several positions I held gave me an unusual amount of access to senior executives at the company and what I learned was that, for the most part, they were honest, forthright people doing their best for a company they believed in. Sure, there were exceptions...and several of them got the boot for it.

Lastly, I would like to point out that I worked my way through college. My husband paid for his education himself. Neither of us had it easy at the time, but we both gained a healthy respect for money and the importance of being responsible with it, and I like to think our family benefits from that.

So, with these not insignificant frames of reference, you can see why I think the Occupy Movement is largely utter nonsense. Just because my brother has worked really, really hard to make a lot of money doesn't mean he OWES some slacker college kid a damn thing. If said college kid wants to be in the 1%, all it requires is a brain and a work ethic. This I know beyond doubt.

Happy Happy

Four years ago today, at 3:58 a.m., my life changed completely and irrevocably, in all the best ways. Suddenly, there was a SCREAMING, red, tiny, squirmy boy laying on my tummy. The four years since have been a whirlwind of love, worry, joy and exasperation. Never have I known a person who could make me so insane one second and so madly in love the next. Never before have I known a person at whom I could be content to stare, literally for hours. Perhaps more than anyone I've ever known, my son has made me who I am today. (Certainly, his father has helped, too.) He made me a mother, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Happy fourth birthday to my first born, B, to whom I will never be able to adequately express my love and devotion.

Me, Myself.

So, sometime over the last week, I began to really feel like the meds I was taking were not having enough of an effect to make the side effects I was experiencing worthwhile. I mulled it over for a couple of days, and discussed it with my cousin who is in the mental health field. I dosed myself off the meds over the past few days. I'm not sure whether I'll need to try a different medication going forward, but what I can say so far is that yesterday and today, I have felt more myself than I have in ages. I've still got some residual anxiety, but I feel more present and a bit more positive. I'm really hoping I'm rounding the corner on this. Fingers crossed!

Blocked

One of the most unfortunate (for me) aspects of whatever it is I've been going through lately is that words are in short supply. For someone who relies so heavily on words, both spoken and written, this...is not helpful. But I'm going to do my best to put some words to what's in my head. Probably won't be my finest work, but it's worth a shot.

So, the official diagnosis is something like post-partum anxiety disorder. Which really just means anxiety disorder with an onset within one year of giving birth. Most likely, it's a pre-existing anxiety disorder that is exacerbated by the hormone swings in my body now. It's more likely to occur if the pregnancy or labor is traumatic in some way (my pregnancy wasn't the easiest but not traumatic - labor was maybe a little traumatic but was also crazy fast). It's also more likely to occur if the previous pregnancy ended in miscarriage, which applies to me.

On the upside, unlike the more severe, well-known form of PPD, I did not experience difficulty bonding with my daughter or feeling joy in her presence. I'm very grateful for that. What I did experience was a very acute form of anxiety, and an inability to talk myself down from that (I'm usually pretty good at talking myself down). I couldn't seem to envision a future in which I felt normal again and was happy. I kept convincing myself I was gravely ill and wouldn't make it to the future, or if I did, that I would always carry this feeling of terror about the future.

After a little over five weeks on the meds, I think I'm in a better place. I'm sure it also helps that E has begun sleeping through the night more often than not, which obviously means I'm getting closer to a full night's sleep regularly. But my mood overall does seem stabilized. I'm still having some anxiety spikes, and I still have to be really vigilant about not allowing the hypochondria to creep in and overtake me. But I think the worst may be behind me.

One of the things I'm dealing with now is guilt and frustration over not being myself - or at least not the self I'm used to being. I'm forgetful. I'm not great at communicating with people other than E and my mom. I'm still unsure how to describe what's going on with me to friends who ask me. I've actually sat down to write this post about six times, and have been completely unable to find the words. So, to anyone from whom I've been a bit more isolated than usual who happens upon this post, please accept my apologies. I know I'll be myself again soon.

In terms of my care for the kiddos, I feel really lucky. That's the one area where I've really felt pretty unaffected. I'm enjoying them and loving them. And they both seem to be pretty content, which tells me they're not being impacted by my anxiety. I also have the most amazing husband there is, who is supremely supportive, even at times when work is nutty for him. And my mother and sister are, of course, unfailingly willing to help whenever and wherever there is a need. My mom has been here about once a week which, above all, keeps my house from becoming a complete horror show (in terms of being messy and cluttered).

So, that's more or less where I'm at, at the moment.