Dear Goodness, What Happened to November?

 

November is a historically difficult month for me. My body shuts down and tries not to feel anything until mid-January-ish. Which is disappointing because I wind up missing out on three holidays and two kid birthdays. Like I just can't muster up the enthusiasm. 

I think that I *finally* acknowledged that this-is-a-thing for me last year. I think acknowledging that there is a problem is probably the best first step to doing anything about it. Even if that first step is just saying, "Hey, there's a problem." I think talking about it helps, too. I think medication definitely helps. 

[Sidebar: Can we talk about how hard it is for people with mental health issues to reach out and get help? First, I have to be able to acknowledge that there is an issue; second, I have to know what the resources are; third, those resources have to be actually helpful. Any misstep along the way derails my ability to get help for myself.] 

Speaking of medication, mine had a hiccup. The script was not written correctly, and I ran out. So, I went from maintaining somewhat normalcy to sobbing on the phone to a stranger trying to figure out the logistics of getting my prescription refilled. It was overwhelming. I know logically that I just need to keep pressing forward to figure out a solution, but I just didn't have the spoons to do it---which left me frustrated and sobbing to strangers. 

So---instead of pressing forward for a solution--- I just waited it out. Fortunately my prescription refilled yesterday and I got my first good night's rest in awhile; hence, I have enough spoons to blog. I really enjoy blogging, but it is very hard to do when my brain feels like it is circling the drain. 

This morning, Rae saw the pharmacy bag for my prescription medication on top of the garbage. 

"What's that?" he asked 

"It's medicine to make my brain feel better."

"How does it do that?" 

"My body doesn't make enough neurotransmitters, so this medicine keeps the ones it does make in circulation longer." 

"Why is that important?" 

"Without those neurotransmitters, I tend to sleep too much, cry, and be easily irritable. I lose interest in things I enjoy, stuff like that. I need my brain to function well, so I can feel good enough to function." 

"That makes sense." 

I have this bizarre, boot-strapping desire to make myself function well---no excuses! Like, it is a moral failing if I can't make myself be better. I've come to realize, it is not a moral failing. It is just what it is. I got a set of conditions and circumstances that I manage, and those conditions/circumstances don't inform my character. It is rather a relief to separate who I am from what I deal with. 


So, November, here are my birthday boys: 

Joe got a mommy dog with a zipper pouch on her belly and four puppies inside, among other things. Wouldn't that be easier? #zipperpouchenvy

Cay got geodes which he smashed with a hammer and a foam stomp rocket (I highly recommend this one, but when the pieces need to be glued together, don't use super glue. It doesn't work, and I wound up gluing my fingers together. Use a hot glue gun, instead. #lessonlearned) 

I don't have pictures from Thanksgiving, on account of my body surrendering to two four-hour-long daytime naps because 1. booster shot; 2. Aunt Flo; and 3. lack of brain medication. The collision of those three things together was like Dante's ninth circle. Fortunately, Caleb also napped with me for my second nap. 

Speaking of my booster shot, the boys got their first dose! We went to the county health department, and there was a news crew who asked to film/photograph my three kids getting their shots (I have no idea if that actually made it to the papers), and I said, sure! It'll be a circus. 

I was right; it was a circus. 🎪 🎪 🎪

Cay went first and was arrogantly stoic about the whole thing, telling his bigger brothers, "I did it; it was soooo easy." 

Joe was inelegantly sandwiched between me and Jim, squirmed like a caught fish, more or less subdued, and quickly shot by an expert. He howled indignantly for ten seconds then promptly forgot about it when handed a sticker.

Rae, dear Lord, bless his heart. He was all kinds of panicked about getting his shot, even after watching both his brothers (maybe especially after watching his brothers). I don't want to know what the health department workers or the news crew filming us thought of my parenting after listening to me word-grapple with Rae, which ended abruptly when I promised to sit on him with cold-hearted sincerity and a three second countdown. 

I honestly thought that Joe and Cay would more difficult. Nope! Not this time, anyway. 

When we got outside, the railing had round, colored stickers that the health department used to quickly identify who needed what, where. Apparently, everyone took off their stickers after walking out the door and decorated the rails, the signs, and the lamp post nearby. It was actually quite cute, so I needed a picture. 

As for post-shot reactions: Rae's arm was warm and sore; Joe seemed to have no reaction; Cay needed very long naps.

Since Cay never slows down, we were quite thrilled with this side effect.

Goodbye November. Onward, December, ho!