Organizing frenzy. OCD much? Um, yeah.

Hard drive kicked it. Totaled. Mostly everything was backed up. Only lost bookmarks + that's what Google is for. Best thing that could have happened for my heightened computing pleasure. Have memory galore now. Been busily reorganizing my computer files. Have taken the computer organizing into the real world. Finally wrapping up long overdue crap I've been creatively avoiding by blogging in detail about the minutiae in my life.

So while ya'll get caught up reading said nitty gritty, I'm getting caught up filing away.

We're entering our last month here. Trying to emotionally prepare for the laundry list of unknowns fast approaching. Expect AF to drop in for Valentine's Day. Looks like this cycle is back to its old long self. We'll probably do the FET in the 3rd week of February, let 'em bake, then fly back a week or 2 later. No, not ideal. But then again, doing a second IVF/FET round isn't either.

Still working on that elusive optimistic HOPE thing.

Have I mentioned I miss my precious Z? No, don't mean Zeke. Though I miss him tremendously. And Tallulah. HUGE. I'm referring to Zoloft. Miss it. On it, that's my normal. My normal isn't normal nor has it ever been...

Anyone who has read more than one or two of my posts is more than privy to my OCD, etc. crap. My friend who has been kindly and loyally following my blog sent me this. I wanted to share. She's not an "infertile," is actually a new mommy, and has never been on these drugs. Yet she GETS it. Not just the mental struggles, but the infertility as well. Moreover she's able to articulate it. She's an amazing + insightful person. And I'm lucky I get to count her as one of my dearest friends and have her in my life. Plus, she makes an insanely good cup of coffee.

I may have sent you this before, but I am trying to get caught up again on your blog (funny how [baby] makes "reading" a too time-consuming activity) and your post reminded me of this one on Dooce.com:

http://www.dooce.com/2007/12/13/because-i-couldnt-say-it-phone

She is a Sister-in-Arms when it comes to Head Meds (from your blog post). Drugs (therapy, whatever) aren't indications of weakness. If they help you to have a happy fulfilling life then they are a success. AND (my two cents), the fact that ANYONE seeks them out and stays on them (or with it) in order to make their life livable, shows that they have great strength and courage.

I've told you before she's one of my favorite bloggers (in addition to you now)! She's just has a great perspective on life, given the life she's already lived. I'm behind on her posts too. Hmph. I'll be caught up one day with all my favorite bloggers and vloggers. Actually, this year. New Year's resolution!

Smooch.
Say "HEY" to The Surfer for me!

-k

Head Meds

Instead of writing, I'm supposed be packing to leave on a surf excursion to Kenting for the weekend; serving as the 3rd wheel to my husband and Drew (and his still in-need-of-a-home- car-sick-dog, Tuco).

But I thought I'd post one last one for the road copying what I wrote on a fellow IFer's comment section.

The dilemma she was having was about how to proceed in dealing with her husband's hypochondriac symptoms/depression. Here's what I foisted on her blogworld:

Here's my biased take:

Drugs.

Head meds can be a good thing. Sometimes it is just circumstances that drives the need. Fine. But also, one's personal/familial chemistry can be such that they're deficient on brain hormones--as was the case for me--hit it right off the bat w/ The Zoloft. I was taking 50 mg. which did the trick, took at night to sleep off the major sleepiness and felt it get me on track right away. Prior to taking the meds (which I'm off at the moment due to TTC, but not off for life), it was always SUCH a struggle to pull myself out of the spiral. And the thing that really confirmed to me I was such an example of "chemical imbalance" was that there wasn't anything in particular that was setting me off when I finally admitted I was a good candidate for the drugs. YEARS of therapy cannot help a physical, chemical imbalance. After a lifetime of low-grade depression, when I finally gave over and took the drug, it was such a relief. Unfortunately, I still felt the sting of societal stigma: that it was a hush-hush thing I was doing. And honestly, I think there are a few of my friends who never "accepted" it and are glad I'm not on it currently. I get a bit defensive in my head and just let it go; if I vibed someone wasn't accepting, but judging, I made peace with it being their problem.

Here's the fair and analogous question:

Do people judge diabetics because they need insulin due to their pancreas not producing enough or any insulin?

NO.

But when people don't make enough of their own seratonin, just because the organ in question is the brain (i.e. the "mind") and not a pancreas, it gets lumped in as being "mental."

I go out of my way to openly talk about it and any other "taboo" subject I can b/c it's SUCH BS that these (OCD, depresssion, infertility) things are still SO not talked about and/or accepted, esp. in our American society.

Unfortunately, no solution is perfect for those of us w/ deficient organs. (As all of us struggling w/ IF know all too well.)

My dad, yes 1/2 of where I got these screwy genes, finally went on meds. Guess what? OCD/hypochondriac stuff dissipated. But he couldn't handle the drugged sleepiness and went off them. Yep, hypochondriac back in full force. My (lifelong) step mom was so bummed when he ditched them.

Please be patient with your DH.

...And there's my novella.

Sidenotes a la OCD: extra controlled crispiness with a side of superstitious ranch dipping sauce served on a formica surface.

Classic control freak soothing devices!

The cold is most definitely still with us. While resting the 4 hrs. (yeah, still not over it) after the transfer on Saturday, I concentrated on stifling the tickle I felt nagging just beneath the surface. Because when it beat me, when I could no longer hold it in, it felt like a swift kick in my side - perpetrated w/friggin' stilettos. CRAP it hurt. But now it's Tuesday and that was 3 days ago already. My OHSS seems to be holding steady and I thought Dan and I were headed back to sleeping in our bedroom in - wait for it - our BED. Sleeping. Together. In the same bed. The irony of the fact that I may actually be "knocked up" from a hiatus of not only not sleeping with my husband, but not, literally, sleeping with my husband is not lost on me.

But damn if that fucking cold isn't holding on tight - both woke up w/ a nasty tickle and racking cough simultaneously at 3:00 this morning. We're starting to think this whole apartment is some kind of sick zone - victim of mold/mildew, etc... The paranoia doesn't end there, but I'll spare you (has something to do with being monitored by the Chinese government [aren't you glad I spared you?]).

I've noticed that since being off Zoloft (and sure, probably in combo with the zillion meds/hormones I've been on), the OCD has definitely reared its neurotic head more. (Um, the segue way here is the lovely paranoia [case in point: above paragraph] aspect of OCD.) But I think I was on the Z long enough to see my PATTERNS bubble up and I learned how to quell them with the help of the Zoloft "net." I suppose that would be called, having learned how to use a new "tool." (Yay for me!)

Another OCD symptom I've observed in myself, and other family members (oh, sadly there are more than a handful of us), is that we OCDers are especially adept at spotting the never-ending flow of multiple patterns, coincidences, synchronicity, serendipitous occurrences, etc., etc., etc., that strike everybody, everywhere throughout the day. There is even a whole book/movement (whose popularity surged in those heightened, zany self-help days of the '90s) that chronicles the assigning of deep meaning to coincidental events called, "The Celestine Prophecy" - an OCDers bible; what could be more validating?

I contend we people who have, let's just say, heightened OCD tendencies have not made peace with the inherent lack of control present in oh-so-painfully many aspects of life. That's life. It can get depressing.

Which leads me to...

Based on my very scientific survey, I've isolated the predominant personality traits shared amongst almost all IVFers. And here now I present my findings to you:

"TYPE A, CONTROL FREAK, COMMONLY POSSESSING OCD TENDENCIES."

Yep, ladies, c'mon let's just call a spade a spade. But gosh darned it, we need to be this way so when we're laid up, stuck in bed rest for 4 hours (yes, STILL not over it) in a (foreign) hospital, we get to finally put our honed skills of counting the ceiling corners, multiplying by the ceiling tiles, then dividing by the length of time we last washed our hands to good use - it so totally comes in handy!

What I'm laboriously (and case-in-pointing) getting at is this:

OCD leads not only to conspiracy theories about the Chinese government shooting an UBER RESISTANT strain of a Taiwanese cold under our front door (fine, I tried to spare you - couldn't help myself), but OCD also leads to heightened superstitious behavior.

Ahh, superstition. A past time which will find many from my club frantically looking for wood on which to knock (often presented w/ nothing but wood-grained formica - leaving the poor control freak to assuage their superstition-induced panic and to charmingly, self-deprecatingly knock on their own heads).

When people attach meaning to inanimate objects which serve as their talismans - it's just another form of superstition. And fondling that talisman or performing some ritual that brought them success the first time, will suddenly bring them the calm that comes from being in CONTROL. Believing something is "so Celestine" (meh, I'm dating myself) is pretty much just another way to think your life is in alignment, the Universe is on your side, God is watching - whatever lines one feeds themselves to feel their life is on the right path. Who knows, there might be truth to it. There might. Which is why I can have all these beliefs about its silliness and still heavily participate... as witnessed in these photos:


(Note the wedding bands... finger got too swollen and needed to take them off for now. Have I mentioned, waaah, lately?)

My window necklace I bought from BMFJ when my Chinese classes ended and the IVF started. One door closes, another opens - in this case, a window. See me fondling it to conjure up all the implantation sticky good luck it brought us when I wore it to each of our RE visits? Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm no better than a football player wearing his dirty, crunchy socks.

dandelion shot: Creative Commons License photo credit: la bella rivolta