Month: August 2008

Open Sphincter, Remove Head.

Every so often over the last few weeks, I have gotten that nagging little voice in my head saying “You haven’t blogged in awhile. Maybe you should get a post up?” A quick bitch-slap and the voice shuts up right quick, but looking at my last post 25 days ago makes me think I really should have been paying the voice a bit more attention. 25 days without blogging, and it wasn’t even an intentional hiatus. WTF?????

I don’t know how to really explain it, other than that with the stress of the divorce going on, I began having issues with my depression again, only a bit worse than I have had in the past. I became moody, avoided friends, stayed out of social situations as much as possible and generally began to shut down. In addition to the depression and anxiety I’ve experienced before, I began having panic attacks as well. Overall, I was a bit of a mess. I finally realized one day that I was having a hard time doing even just the day-to-day stuff, and that’s when I knew I was once again in need of a bit of pharmaceutical help.

One doctor’s appointment, a Zoloft prescription, and two weeks later I am finally feeling like a real human being again.  I’m not 100%, but I’ve left behind the constant moodiness, the crying, the panic attacks, and the complete and total lack of energy. (When doing nothing more than taking a shower is both overwhelming and exhausting, you know things are bad.)

As I am feeling better, I’m pulling my head out of my ass and looking at the things that I have been neglecting. Writing has always been therapy for me, and my friends in the blogging community (yes you, dear readers) have rarely been anything but supportive. If I had been in the right frame of mind I might have realized I should have been more open with everyone about what was going on. I’ve seen very little of my friends lately, although I got to spend some time with a couple of them this week and that was really awesome. (Thank you so much for being there!) I’ve had a couple of opportunities come up with my writing that could lead to some cool stuff, although nothing large-scale, yet (Glass half full here..) , so hoping I’ve not missed out on those. In short, I’m back in action, but picking up all those balls I dropped over the last few weeks. Let’s hope I didn’t lose any.

I’ve missed you guys, so do me a favor and let me know what I’ve missed this month. Link your best recent post in my comments so I can swing by and catch up. I promise we’ll be seeing each other more often 😉


It’s not often that I have bad dreams. If anything the dreams I have tend to be odd, almost comical in their randomness. Bits of reality mashed with bits of imagination with a little bit of everything else mixed in. I dream often and vividly, and usually its a good experience if for nothing other than the laugh I get the next day.

Unfortunately the bad dreams, while infrequent, tend to be just as detailed and feel just as real.

Last night was one of those nights. I had a dream in which I made the choice to cut someone very close to me out of my life. Something unexpected happened that made me realize how both different and distant our lives were, and it just was not something I could get past, so I ended the relationship. They were upset, and looking back its shocking how little I cared, but such is the nature of dreams I guess.

I woke up from this feeling completely disoriented, and having a hard time shaking it off completely. An hour later I still feel all out of sorts.

Why is it the good dreams fade from memory so fast, but the bad ones linger so long? I really need to clear my head of this one.

I Do Believe in Fairies, I Do! I Do!

I was going through unapproved blog comments just now and ran across a comment from someone I’ve not heard from before, Gidge from Live From the Wang of America.  I checked out her blog, and ran across a gem I just have to share.

In her post, The Near Death Experience of Tinkerbell, Gidge describes the emotional chaos brought on by the simple question of a child- “Is Tinkerbell REAL or not?”.

I feel her pain.

I recently had my own moment where the very lifeblood of Santa, the Easter Bunny, and in that particular case, the Tooth Fairy all rested in the hands of my 10 year old. You see, with the divorce going on, I am now staying on the couch in the kids playroom, and all my stuff is in the closet in this room. The kids are fascinated by all the clothes, books and personal items they previously had no access to when I could keep two doors between them and the things I didn’t want their little hands on. (Right now, all that stands between them and my possessions are a bi-fold closet door I may or may not remember to lock; I’m bad about that.) At one point a few weeks ago I must have forgotten to lock the door, and my oldest comes to me with something in her hand, asking .”Mommy, who’s tooth is this?”.


That precarious balance of magic and growing up threatened to topple before my eyes, and I had no idea what to do. She is 10, and at that point most kids have left behind the notion of fairies and Santa like others leave behind outgrown rain boots. On the other hand, I have been given the gift of a child who sees the magic in life so many others are quick to cast off. She still thinks Pokemon really are out there, and if she wishes hard enough, she might get one, a REAL one, all her own one day. She believes in Santa, and the tooth fairy, and that if you make a birthday wish, it has to come true. (Birthday wishes ARE special you know.) On the other hand, she is 10. Being a June baby, she is younger than most of her friends, some of whom are far too old for their age thanks to older siblings and parents who have no issue with things like movie ratings and parental advisories. She has been told by these friends that magic does not exist, but still she believes.

Until that moment, when she confronted me with the evidence that could end it all. I had to make a decision- tell the truth and let it go, or lie, and let her keep those childhood illusions for just a bit longer.

With an absolute straight face, I looked her in the eye and quite simply told her the tooth she found had been one of my baby teeth. The doubt and worry in her face turned to awe as she thought she held a bit of mommy-history in her hand, and then relief as she realized those nagging doubts in her mind had been unfounded.

Right or wrong, the magic lives on.