Life's Like a Jump Rope

I'm not really good at jumping rope, by the way.

I saw the psychiatrist Monday and she put me on a medication that gives me a headache.  You would think I'd keep it at bay with Advil, but I'm just really tired of taking pills, so I suffer through it most of the day like an idiot.

She made this drug sound like the holy grail.  It'll make you lose weight!  You'll lose interest in drinking soda!  You'll stop craving carbs and sugar!  All while it levels out your moods.

Let me just say, the weeks leading up to this appointment... I had been in really good spirits.  Since my primary care doctor upped my Effexor, life was good.

I started the new med, had a meltdown and have had a headache ever since.

And my therapist has fallen off the face of the earth or something.  We had an appointment Tuesday and she texted me that she was sick and asked if we could reschedule for today or Friday.  I said either day was fine and I haven't heard a peep since.

Sigh.

I'm not trying to blame the new meds on the meltdown.... yet.  I mean, I had only had one pill.  I do know from other people who have taken it that headaches are a common side effect, but I need to hold out judgement on the meltdown.  Could be PMS, it is that time.

I was loading the dishwasher and had 2 spoons.  I knew there were no spoons in the drawer, and all I found in the kitchen to wash were 2 spoons.  TWO.  I asked the girls to look around for spoons because obviously they have somehow scattered spoons across the house and they were all like "meh, whatever." and all of a sudden I felt like I was on a tight rope and there was no way I could balance on it.  I was going to fall one way or another.  On one side was anger.  Really ugly anger.  On the other side was crying.  Stupid, unreasonable crying.  These stupid spoons were tipping me over and I needed to choose while I had the ability to choose, so I chose crying.

I cried over the fact that we only have two spoons and my kids couldn't care less.

I stayed in my room for a while until I could straighten myself up.  I got the kids to go to bed, where they sent me back over the edge again and I went back to my room.  I came back out and they were in their rooms and I went to the living room.  I have a table by my recliner where I keep my crochet projects.  There's a little basket that had my alpaca yarn in it and the girls had knocked it over.  I started picking up the yarn and couldn't find the green yarn.  It just hurt my feelings so badly that they would knock over this basket and lose my alpaca yarn that was a gift that I just sat down right in the middle of the floor and sobbed.  It seems so unreasonable to me now.....  it always does after the fact.  Isabelle wasn't asleep, and she came out and sat next to me, rubbing my back and hugging me.  I worked really hard to stop.  I don't like my kids seeing me like that.  I really don't and that's why I'm trying to hard to get better.  It kills me.  But I don't know what to do.

So, I'm hoping this drug helps.  And I'm hoping my therapist calls me back soon. Because I feel a little tangled up in my jump rope right about now.