So much time has passed, so much has happened

Just wondering if anyone still has a feed set up for this. Will anyone notice that I have stopped by?

x=x+1

Not so much a vicious circle, more a circular reference for the Excel geek in me.

From the Evening Standard - A study of the phenomenon of blogs - or online diaries - found people writing them feel happier and more organised.

If I was more organised, I would have more time to write my blog, which would make me feel happier and more organised.

Repeat.

Resolved?

Hmm, struggling with the resolutions a bit...

1) Not doing much blogging, am I?

2) No gaps filled, just creating more as time passes.

3) Well, down to 11 stone 10 pounds, would have been less but I've been a bit piggy over the last few days.

4) Not sure that I'm working efficiently, but I'm certainly working like a maniac. I have been given one massive project and it has been taking up all my time lately. So that is my excuse, I've been trying not to procrastinate too much and get on with the work.

I will be back!

Resolutions

Not so much a meme, more a cliche. Yes, it's New Year's Resolution Time.

1) Return to blogging - time to start writing again

2) Fill in the gaps - a lot of time has passed and a lot has taken place since my last post.

3) Lose weight - I hit 12 stone yesterday, I want to be back in the 10-somethings, please. No more vanilla lattes until I am.

4) Work efficiently - too much procrastination and diversion has distracted me over the last year. I lost 2005 to illness and recovery, I want me back.

That will do, for now.

Yum

Autumn is here, winter on the way. The dark mornings and evenings, the cold, the wet, all the SAD triggers. But there is a bright side. Two silver linings on this cloud.

Boots. Preferably black leather.

Tights. Preferably black and patterned.

These obviously work best with a skirt, and the shorter the better, but just a hint of knee or shin is enough to set my imagination blazing. I feel warm inside, an Indian summer of lust.

Yum.


P.S. Google ranked number 3 for grumpet now!

Narcissism and the Grumpet

Narcissism – I have succumbed. I now have a stats counter on the blog. I'm glad I waited this long, as the stats are hardly impressive, but at least they aren't non-existent.

Grumpet – the stats give me the ability to do such exciting things as look up referrers or the search queries that people used to find the site. It appears that a post that I made back in July about being a grumpet has put me 4th on the list of Google results for 'grumpet'. There is something surreal about being ranked so high for a single word. Obviously, there are some searches that will return one of my sites as the top ranked site, but they are (even) more esoteric than 'grumpet'.

What it will take to move up the ranks, I do not know, but it will be interesting finding out.

Cut Part Two

Saturday was Day 30 since reducing dose. The morning after the Friday night before.

I hadn't slept particularly well and I woke up first. I kept my arm hidden while my mind raced. What should I say to H?

It was some time until she woke up, and when she did it wasn't long until we had both apologised to each other. We talked for a while and I said that I felt that I needed to go back to the doctor soon after our break away. She agreed. I also said that I thought I may need more counselling. She also agreed, suggesting that it may help while I'm 'weaning'. I half agreed – I suspect my GP may suggest that I go back up to 40mg per day.

Everything seemed calm.

'There is something I need to show you. Something that I cannot hide and I don't want you to see by accident. You don't have to react, you don't have to understand, just don't be angry or upset.'

Nerve-racking. For me to say and for her to here.

I showed her my arm.

H took it pretty well. She was obviously shaken and upset but didn't overreact or dramatise.

So, I have been wearing long sleeves ever since. Every now and then H asks to look and I prepare for a visit to the doctor.

Cut Part One

Friday was Day 29 since reducing dose. The last couple of weeks have been harder. The withdrawal seems to have abated, so my fear is this is the underlying illness surfacing. Friday night was a climax, a breaking point, a crisis.

We spent a long weekend visiting H's sister and her husband. We have a laugh, catch-up, drink too much, dance a bit. All was reasonably ok until my head just wanted to stop. It was about 2230, perhaps 2300, and having been dancing in the living room I went off to the kitchen. I poured away the contents of my umpteenth glass of wine and started to make a cup of tea. In the other room the laughter, music and dancing continued. I wanted it all to stop, to go away.

As the kettle boiled so did my emotions. I was unhappy, impatient, intolerant and angry. H came in and we exchanged words. I cannot remember what exactly. I know I said that what was going on in the other room just wasn't what I wanted to be doing. She was drunk too, and told me this was her escape and asked why I had to spoil it?

I snapped back – 'I cannot escape from this' jabbing my forehead with my finger. She cried and I could do nothing but watch her return to the other room.

I went upstairs, sat on the bed, saw my penknife. I cut. Slash upon slash on my arm, inner and outer. Deep enough to bleed, shallow enough not to scar. The pain was a warm glow. I did not cry. I turned off the light and fell into a drunken sleep.

Hurting

Hurting
Originally uploaded by j8g.

The last few weeks have been a slow descent into pain. Currently away visiting family, so my return home will see a return to the doctor.

Insult to Injury

So, I fall victim to marketing. On each packet of crisps there is a code and every five minutes there is a random draw. If your code is picked you win an iPod. To suggest an element of skill, the spiel on the packet suggests picking a five minute slot most likely to have fewer entrants and therefore increase your chances.

So, as I have to be up at 0500 anyway, I text in my code before I shower. No, I didn't win. But every entry is acknowledged with what I assume is supposed to be some piece of music trivia. This is the text message I received:

Sorry you didn't win the Walkers iPod draw this time. Did you know Mick Jagger used to work as a porter in a mental hospital

That is not a good morning greeting suitable for a paranoid Monday dawn. And the lack of a question mark just annoys me even more.

Absence

I miss my children.

I see them every weekend and every Wednesday, I talk to them every day. But I miss the little things, when they learn something new, going shopping with them, hearing their voices in another room, hearing them giggle with their friends.

The time I spend with them now is quality time, I am dedicated to them, things like DIY or other chores just don't exist while they are with us. But in some ways that just makes it all the more unreal.

It's almost 18 months since I left the family home, so this isn't exactly a new feeling. It waxes and wanes, stronger than usual at the moment. Changing job, moving desk again, means shifting photographs and pictures. I found a passport size photo of my daughter B (then 3) holding her baby brother G (then a few months). Three years have passed since the photo was taken and they have certainly changed.

Is it because I miss B the three-year-old – Daddy's little girl? Is it because I miss having the constant relationship with toddler G that I had with B?

Weaning Take 2, Part IV

Drugs of choice:
30mg Fluoxetine (40mg today, 20 tomorrow)
Emmet

It appears the side-effects have truly subsided. I still have the vivid dreams, but nothing to worry about. My only concern now is a strange, new habit of singing Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody to myself when alone. My singing voice is nowhere near good enough for me to want to risk singing while in company, so I hope I will soon overcome this.

Sometimes big companies are slow, bureaucratic beasts. Not on this occasion. It is less than two weeks since I decided to change job, and as of yesterday it has become official. My workload is increasing but, at the moment, I continue to relish this new pressure. My colleagues, past and present, have all welcomed the news, with many happy sentiments being passed on to me.

If I stick to the schedule suggested by my GP, Friday will see me reduce to 20mg of Fluoxetine per day. I await the impact of another session of withdrawal on this new enthusiasm.

The Moon On A Stick

So NASA are going back to the moon.

Yes, there are plenty of arguments about how the huge investment will help science, education and even the economy devastated by Katrina. But I really think we should sort out a few of the problems on this planet before we start to f**k up any others.

Poverty, disease, an impending climate and fuel crisis. One would have hoped that Katrina had brought home the issues of climate change and an understanding of Third World hardship to the US. No such luck.

Withdrawal Part 3

Appear to have worked through the withdrawal this weekend. Most of the side-effects have passed, although with some new visitors in the last few evenings:

• Tremor


• Other Strange Tingling or Painful Sensations


• Dreams, including Vivid Dreams

Hopefully that will be it for now. Until the next step down, to 20mg per day.

Withdrawal Part 2

I have been working my way through the list of withdrawal symptoms listed in the Healy Report mentioned yesterday.

During Tuesday and Wednesday I worked through:

• Agitation


• Depression


• Lability of Mood


• Irritability


• Confusion


• Insomnia or Drowsiness


• Mood Swings


• Feelings of Unreality

Today I woke up to:

• Dizziness


• Headache


• Fatigue/Malaise


• Flu-like Feelings


• Nausea, Diarrhoea, Flatulence (Not the second, fortunately)

Which may sound bad, but they're a lot better than the emotions of the previous days. I did struggle to get up, repeatedly pressing the snooze button on the alarm clock for an hour. I finally dragged myself into work and I'm glad I did, as I'm feeling a little better for it.

Fortunately, I haven't had any of the following, yet:

• Muscle Spasms


• Tremor


• Electric Shock-like Sensations


• Other Strange Tingling or Painful Sensations


• Dreams, including Vivid Dreams


• Sweating


• Feelings of being Hot or Cold

I printed off the report yesterday so that H could read it, which turned out to be a pretty good idea, as at least she has a bit more understanding of what I'm going through now.

It is a little concerning that I am going through all this dropping from 40mg to 30mg, and could well have to go through it, or worse, for another 3 steps.

One day at a time though, eh?

Withdrawal

If you are withdrawing from fluoxetine, Prozac or other SSRI antidepressants, you should read this report.

It has not made me feel better but has given me some small hope that I may feel better soon.

In the meantime, I continue to feel really, really bad.

Descent

Day 6, it being the morning after day 5. During Monday evening I started to detect changes in my behaviour and mood. These were more evident last night.

I have become irritable, impatient, over-sensitive, picky, snappy, grumpy. Ill logic turns the playful banter between myself and H into perceived bullying (I am the non-victim of someone who is not victimising me). What would simply be having a different point-of-view verges on the need for an argument.

On returning from work, I spent a few quiet minutes upstairs, short enough to not be missed, long enough to shed a single quiet tear and regain my control. Later on that evening, I did something that made H smile, which in turn made me cry.

H suggested we practice making babies and, to add to my misery, my normally limitless libido was non-existent. When we did go to bed I curled into a ball and felt so alone. It would have been easy to ask for a hug, instead I laid there thinking self-destructive thoughts until I eventually fell asleep.

Is this a side effect of the change in dose or is this the real me being uncovered?

Am I feeling different, or am I just truly feeling for the first time in months?

Can I break through this or will it break me?