Positive Energy

Today, two different people from two completely different aspects of my life told me that I have a “positive energy” about me.

My knee-jerk reaction was to make a snide comment in my head about how I must have everyone fooled. But if two different people both see it — one at work, one at karate — maybe I’m just not seeing myself as others see me.

Truth be told, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face during my second-ever Krav Maga class tonight… even when I gave myself a wicked bruise on the top of my foot from doing round kicks, or when I couldn’t quite figure out how to leverage myself to spin around on the floor after blocking a stomp to the face. So, yeah, I’m having fun. Positive energy.

It’s the guy from work who confuses me with his claim that I exude positive energy. Sure, I make a point to be pleasant in my interactions with others, and I’m a little irreverent by nature… but I don’t exactly see myself as the person who lights up a room when I walk in, or who people gravitate toward, or anything like that.

I guess I really just don’t — can’t — see myself as others see me. If the persona I’m showing is one with positive energy, though, I’ll take it.

 

Recovering From a Downward Spiral

I’ve been eagerly anticipating today’s med check with my doctor for weeks. He put me on Prozac over a year ago, and on Wellbutrin about a year and a half. The meds have been treating me well… up until recently.

For the past few months, things have been going slowly downhill. I’ve gained ten pounds, and my mood has become more volatile in a chicken-and-egg sort of dance. I’m down because I don’t fit into my clothes and I’m jiggly. I either wish I didn’t have to bother eating, or I can’t stop. I get tension headaches. I get irritable easily, to the point of sudden rage. I can’t focus at work. I haven’t been taking enjoyment in my hobbies. I get down on myself. I notice all my flaws, physical and otherwise. They taunt me.

My knees hurt, so I skip my workouts. I go outside for a restorative walk over lunch, only to find it gray and cold and windy.

Doc told me today that he thinks I’m not reacting well to the Wellbutrin, and told me to gradually taper off of it over the next month. At the same time, he’s having me double my dose of Prozac from what I had been taking, which was the minimum dosage available.

He also confirmed what I had suspected for some time now: I have inattentive-type ADHD. This quote from the Cleveland Clinic (emphasis mine) sums things up quite well:

Executive functions of the brain–such as verbal and nonverbal working memory, self-regulation and motivation, and planning–are thought to be impaired in adults with AD/HD. Adults who have AD/HD without hyperactivity can experience difficulties with maintaining attention and focus, using working memory and recall, and regulating emotions. Organizing and prioritizing tasks can be challenging.

 

As the kids said back in 2015… it me.

Our hope is that eliminating the Wellbutrin and increasing the Prozac will help resolve the emotional volatility and mitigate some of the ADHD symptoms, as well as the depression. If not, though, we’ll experiment with what he calls “real” stimulants.

I should also get myself to talk therapy. I go with Connor to some Behavioral Therapy to help him identify and regulate his emotions, and I honestly get something out of his appointments, too, even though I’m really just there as his handler / moral support / responsible adult. It’s taking that first step and reaching out that’s the hardest.

Aaron always says he can tell when something’s really bothering me because he reads it on my blog. He also told me a couple weeks back that I should act sooner if this mood dip happens again.

Agreed, 100 percent.

Boob Squishing Complete for 2019

Every year for the past three years I’ve dreaded my mammogram appointment… and every year I leave wondering why I bothered getting all worked up over it. It’s one of the shortest medical appointments ever, and it’s only uncomfortable for less than a minute.

I did notice the digital readout on the machine while I was gripping it and holding my breath, and I’m pretty sure it said that my boob was squished to 5cm thick.

Ow.