TheMommyBlog

Friday, January 30, 2009 Me, Me, Me, Bad Mood Dude

(Props to Dorothy Parker for my favorite quote of all time.) (Sorry I messed with it.)

Just now? In band camp? I was waiting to pick up the third child at school, and picked up a playdate for one of the others while we were waiting. His mom and I got chatting, and I asked her what she did, she told me, and we talked about her job. Then we talked for like ten more minutes, max, when I perked up and asked, “So, what do you do?” DORK. Momnesiac. I’m going to have that tattooed on my forehead.

And then a little while ago? In the garage? I asked my son’s friend what his parent’s names were so I could put them in the address book, and in the fifteen feet between the door and my desk, I had forgotten his mother’s name. I think I know, but am not confident enough to try it out. Fortunately, she seems to be my kind of cool, so if I open the door and say, “I have no idea what your name is,” she’ll most likely respond with, “Do I know you?”

And then I’ll get us a glass of wine.

Earlier, Pink SunDrops said,

“Aw, I wish there had been a lot more moms on this one to mention ways to conquer Momnesia, especially you Mindy! I definitely think it has something to do with keeping all the balls in the air, as well as the elephant in the room, the fact that we are not running one life, we’re running two, three, or more.

You know, I thought the same thing, but I tend to record longer videos than the others, and I probably wouldn’t have been able to do a take in under ten minutes (they usually want three, four tops. I usually do seven.). On this subject, I’d have gone down a million sidetracks. Don’t ask me to remember which ones.

I have had momnesia since 1997. Riddle me this: How long do you have something before it just becomes part of who you are, rather than a temporary condition? I asked this and other questions of my shrink yesterday when I finally went to see him for the first time since September 1997. 1997?? Come again? How could I have forgotten to make an appointment for that long? I’ve been having the momnesia condition-to-trait transition conversation with him for a long time. Every time I see him and ask when we could move toward weaning me off these meds, well, first, he chuckles. Then I laugh. Then I cry. Every single time, he says, “It’s not a good time. There’s a lot going on right now.” Well, when ISN’T there a lot going on? Isn’t this normal? I mean, I’ve been loopy for a decade, people.

No one, including my shrink, thinks I am bringing this on myself, or that my need for chemical assistance is self-perpetuated. We’re all just waiting for this years-long shitstorm to pass. In the meantime, I’m not enjoying the effects although they are a hell of a lot better than the effects of NOT having the assistance.

Actual snippets from yesterday’s conversation that incidentally, occur on nearly every visit:

“How’s it going?”

“Well, just had my first mammogram, and it needed extra scrutiny—loads of fun right out of the chute, but everything is fine. Still unemployed, have been since May. Ex has been unemployed since July. No child support. Car keeps breaking down. Just got an ER bill for three grand for stitches—can’t pay that, it’s going to collections. Oh, and we put our fifteen year old dog to sleep over the weekend. Kids are a handful, and taking it very hard. I feel like a hub, and everyone else is a spoke. Everything comes through me and it’s overwhelming.”

“Hoookay. Still taking everything?”

“Yes, anxiety is still high, but I don’t want to take the medication. I know you said I could always take another pill if it’s bad, but the one and a half already makes me dopey. Plus, what are they made of, titanium? Do you know that breaking those anxiety pills in half is EXTREMELY STRESSFUL?”

“Okay, we should be sure you’re on X dose for the other one. You’re there, right?”

“I don’t think so, when did we do that? No, I’m sure it’s half that.” Of course, when I got home I realized that he was right, and has been for over a year. How could I miss that? Also? We thought we were trying something new and that we should see an improvement but since I’m already at that dose? Not much so much with the improvement..

“Well, I’ll come back in three weeks. In the meantime, my cognition sucks. I can’t remember things, I get distracted,  I’m tired, I have trouble juggling the million things I need to do. For years we haven’t been able to separate normal momnesia from depression, and we still can’t. What’s up with that? Why am I still unable to focus? I used to be a friggin’ genius.”

“It’s the anti-depressants.”

“Well, it’s depressing.”