So I was just outside walking Dorothy Barker and it’s pitch black but I saw the movement of those ducklings I chased off the street last month and they were in the middle of the street again like fucking hooligans so I started chasing them again toward the park but I couldn’t see them very well because I have severe night-blindness so I was taking pictures with my phone because when it would flash I could almost see them but I guess they were scared of the paparazzi because they started running straight to my backyard so I ran after them and I kept taking pictures so I wouldn’t lose them in the grass and I was yelling “JUST COME HERE, STUPIDS” but in a comforting sort of voice and then a car drove by and it was my neighbor and he was like, “Hey. So why are you chasing a skunk?” and I was like, “What do you-OHMYFUCK THAT’S A GODDAM SKUNK” and the last picture I got was of its butthole as sprayed a fountain of stink-pee at me.
Luckily it didn’t hit me directly it was close enough that the dog and I need a real shower and this is exactly why you shouldn’t go outside ever.
Also I have now succeeded in chasing the skunk into my backyard and I don’t know how to get it out and I’m going to just set fire to the house now.
If you like true crime podcasts then you already know My Favorite Murderbecause it’s the best and you should listen to today’s minisode:
Or if you are totally creeped out by true crime then you can skip that and look at this series of selfies I tried to take that for some reason didn’t turn out well at all.
Yes, Dorothy Barker, you’re adorable. But please get your butthole out of my face.
Dottie, quit it.
Dottie.
DOTTIE.
DOTTIE!
WTF, DOG.
Jesus Christ, I give up.
On second thought, they turned out pretty perfectly after all. Good dog.
In the last month I’ve had quite a few people tell me that they’re having a problem leaving a comment on my blog and honestly I was too depressed to deal with figuring out what the problem was but today I’m feeling much better so can you help me figure out what the problem is real quick?
Everyone should be able to comment and see your comment posted immediately (unless you include a spammy amount of hyperlinks in your comment or are one of the two people who are in moderation for being the dangerous kind of crazy.)
So to see who is having the problem can you go leave a comment in the comment section to see if it shows up? If it won’t let you comment then please let me know in the comments. Wait. No. That won’t work.
If you can’t comment then let me know on Facebook or twitter or email me. Ideally if you could tell me what error message you get if your comment doesn’t go though and also tell me what browser you’re using when it didn’t work that would be perfect.
Also, sometimes people get an error message saying that you have to remember your password for wordpress to leave a comment but that’s just because you’re using an email address that you’ve used before for a wordpress account and wordpress wants to help you. It’s totally not necessary though and I don’t do anything with email addresses so you can feel free to just make up a new fake email address and it should let you in with no problems.
THANK YOU!
PS. If you need something to comment you can just tell me something awesome that you love right now.
I’ll go first. Right now I’m loving the latest season of GLOW (don’t judge me), the fact that it rained enough that my grass is green again, and my furry coworkers below.
Happiness. Every day I have it drilled in my head…figuratively. And now sort of literally.
My 15th session of transcranial magnetic stimulation was yesterday. My 16th, 17th, 18th and 19th this week. Another 20 lay ahead. They still hurt a little, the magnets drilling and tapping so loudly I have to wear earplugs. My blinking tic beats out an involuntary pattern with the rhythm and my eyes water. Afterward my skull feels misshapen, my face stiff as I make strange faces on the long drive home. But each day I feel stronger and instead of feeling like my mental illness is being beaten into submission each session, it feels different. I feel the pulses shooting goodness into my head. It’s worth the pain, I think. The slow tapping on the right side of my brain where my anxiety lives. It whispers with each pulse: YOU. WILL. BE. STRONGER.
The furiously fast drilling on the left side of my brain where my depression lives: YouWillBeOkayYouWillBeOkayYouWillBeOkay*breathe* *remember to breathe*
I feel different.
On Sunday I think I looked almost like a normal person. I was still scared. With each step I knew I could fall back, that the exhaustion and fatigue and anxiety could hit me at any second. My daughter knew too…and she was amazed at each step I took. Yes, we can go get lunch. Yes, I’ll take you to get new shorts. Yes, we can go to the mall, the candy shop, the book store. Yes, we can swim and listen to show tunes and sing. Yes, we can play a game. Yes, I’ll read to you.
Yes…I’m enjoying this too.
It was the most I’ve done in a single day in…longer than I can remember. And instead of ending the day feeling rung-out and empty and raw I felt…normal? Is this what normal looks like? Because if it is I want this.
Normally I struggle with simple things. I make strange choices. The strength is takes to shower or the energy it takes to eat? You don’t get both so choose wisely. Every action takes such work…as if living with mental illness is like waking to a new different disability each day. Someone else could quickly do the simple tasks of the day but I am hobbled. It can take hours for me to do what could be done in a good day in minutes. But not today. Today I feel strong. I feel guilty for being able to leave the house without xanax to dull the world…for being able to accomplish the things that normal people do every day. And I feel angry that this comes so easily. I shouldn’t. I should feel lucky and blessed but then I remind myself that it’s not just happiness coming back….it’s all of the emotions. It feels like cheating, like I’m on some illegal drug or cheating somewhow…stealing these emotions I forgot were so strong. And maybe that’s for the best because it means that I appreciate how much mental illness takes from me when it is present and how much it’s worth fighting for relief. Even with it hiding I know it is a terrible monster I will always fear.
When this monster shows its face I fear the world, I fear myself. I loathe the terrible things that I see and I am too paralyzed to even discuss the news items that stick in my head. My dr tells me it’s not safe for me to dwell on these things and it’s true…my intrusive, compulsive thoughts makes me obsess about terrible things that happen in the world. She reminds me that it will suck away my life if I allow myself to be paralyzed with fear and dread. I am not built for rebellion. Not yet. She reminds me to look for the good in the world because it is real even if it doesn’t get the same press and this is a very good idea for people with broken brains, but mine keeps repeating “It’s not enough. We’re all going to die. The world is awful and I am a part of it.”
But now, today, it’s saying something different. It says that the world is a terrible place…sometimes. And filled with terrible people…who can change. But suddenly I’m reminded that there are more people who I know who care, who are empathetic, who fight for others in quiet and loud ways. I see that I am not alone. I see how terrible it would be to feel the terror of the world by myself…and how heartening it is that I can see so many people doing small and beautiful things to make the world better. I’m reminded (for the first time it feels like) of how alone I would feel if I was the only one who felt disconsolate or frustrated. I’m reminded of how lucky I am to be surrounded by people around the world who care about others. Who are here for each other. I think I knew all this before. But mental illness changes “knowing” and “believing” into two very different things and I can breathe for a moment and know that it will be okay.
It’s an epiphany that brings me such relief. It’s going to be okay. Not perfect, never perfect…but we will be okay even when we’re not okay. Even when we’re wanting to be better than we are. It’s okay to take a breath. To love and celebrate and smile and mourn and dance and cry and start all over again.
After a Sunday of driving and shopping and dealing with real live people in the loud world I come home and I am so surprised to find that I am not exhausted. My daughter tells my husband how much we did. “Mom did so great!” she says. As if I am the child. And it makes my heart swell and break at the same time. But I will take this. I don’t want to lose it. It feels so shaky. Like holding on to magic you know can’t be real.
My husband mentions traveling this summer…the beginning of the same argument we have had for years. I can’t travel. It’s too taxing. I would get sick. I would end up in the same wheelchair I’ve ended too many trips in. I would slow them down. They go off together on adventures and I am sad but relieved. I’ve missed many trips. I missed the first time my daughter saw Japan. I watched them on FaceTime from my self-imposed jail as they explore the world.
But I will not miss the first time she sees Europe. Because it will be the first time I see Europe too.
I think it surprised Victor, how quickly I said “Okay. You know what? I’ll go.” He and Hailey held their breath as if I’d take it back. I hold my breath too. I wait for my body to say, “No, this was a trick. It’s not real. You don’t deserve this.” But it’s not saying that. Not yet at least. It’s saying, “I want to go. I want to live. I’ve been waiting so long.” It says “Let’s see Scotland and London and Paris. Let’s walk on distant islands and walk through mountains and see the things that I can’t quite imagine really exist because I never thought it would have been possible to see them. But maybe, a little voice inside my head whispers, maybe it’s possible.
Maybe.
Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s not forever but it’s for today and if it’s real today then there’s a chance that any day in the future could be like this one…full of promise and energy and an ease I feel like I’ve stolen…one that I feel jealous of even as I experience it.
Next month I will have completed 35 days of TMS treatment for anxiety and depression. And to celebrate (knock on wood) I will see things I never thought possible. Some of them in distant lands, yes, but many of them the lovely, simple things that the rest of the world takes for granted. I will take my daughter. I will say to her, “Look. Here is the world. It’s been waiting for you.”
Today was my 14th TMS treatment and it’s still weird and uncomfortable being drilled in the head but I feel better.
I had one dark day this week but the rest of the time I’d say I feel 50% less depressed and I haven’t had insomnia (KNOCK ON ALL THE WOOD) in a week, which is insane because insomnia is my full-time boyfriend and I do not miss him. TMS could stop working and it might be a coincidence but after 3 weeks I think I can say that it’s sort of working? (I whispered that and put a question mark behind it so that the God of I-Heard-That wouldn’t fuck with me.)
There are little things I notice, like the fact that I’m less likely to tweet terrible things at 3am and that I actually want to listen to funny stuff. I haven’t wanted to watch anything funny in a long time because my depression makes me not be able to appreciate it and I feel like I’m failing at being human, so instead I watch documentaries and horror films because they match my mood, but today I caught up on my friend Ze Frank’s True Facts series again and I smiled. That smile is the equivalent of laughing hysterically for normal people and it’s a welcome thing. Will next week bring me saying that I feel like shit now? Maybe. But it’s nice to know that something worked if even for a few weeks. And now, true facts about pangolins.
PS. I finished a new embroidery kit.
My daughter thought this was Gyote so I’m pretty sure that means I have failed as a mother.
This month I’m working on my new books so I’m sharing some chapters you never saw because they didn’t make it in my last book. Enjoy!
THE THIRD ARGUMENT I HAD WITH VICTOR THIS WEEK
Me: We should do this. It’s like a fountain. Made of beer and plastic cups.
(This is from the internet and is not me. You can tell because I have less facial hair and manual dexterity.)
Victor: Why would you want to make drinking beer more complicated?
Me: “More complicated”? Beer-drinking is complicated to you?
Victor: No, it’s not. That’s the whole point of beer. It’s supposed to be easy.
Me: And that’s why we should do this thing. It takes the easiness of beer and then adds an element of excitement to it. And danger. And a furious elegance.
Victor: I’m pretty sure there’s nothing elegant about chugging four glasses of beer at the same time.
Me: And I think that your definition of elegant is a little limited. I’m gonna do it.
Victor: NONONO, YOU’RE GOING TO SPILL IT ALL OVER THE-
Me: Fuck.
Victor: I cannotbelieve you did that.
Me: Really? It’s like you don’t even know me. BTW, that’s what four glasses of beer look like on the floor.
Victor: You’re dead to me. Clean this up before it spreads to the carpet.
Me: It’s like a waterfall. But with beer. It’s a beerfall. Which is totally aptly named, now that I see all the beer on the floor. It’s like the warning was right there in the title.
Victor: How many times have you tried the four-beer thing?
Me: This was my first time.
Victor: Ahem.
Me: …Inside the house, I mean. Obviously did some practice runs, but I did them outside because I didn’t want to spill beer all over the kitchen because I thought that I might not be perfect at it the first time. And turns out, I was totally right. I’m even right when I’m drunk. I’m on my 16th beer, yo.
Victor: OH MY GOD, there is beer all over the porch. How many cups did you spill out there?
Me: Um…like…12?
Victor: So…all of them, basically?
Me: I don’t know. I can’t be expected to do math when I’ve had 16 beers.
Victor: You haven’t HAD 16 beers. You’ve SPILLED 16 beers.
Me: Yeah. The MOST beers. Ever. It’s like a record.
Victor: That’s not something to be proud of.
Me: I can’t be held accountable for that. SIXTEEN BEERS, VICTOR.
Victor: …ARE ON THE FLOOR, JENNY. They don’t count if you don’t swallow.
Me: Ew. Are we still talking about beers?
Victor: You know what? Never mind. Good for you.
Me: Really? Well, now I feel like you’re just humoring me.
Victor: I am. And now I have to hose off the porch.
Me: No, don’t. I’m trying to get the ants drunk to see if they can still focus.
Victor: **glare**
Me: I’m drunk AND I’M DOING SCIENCE.
Victor: That’s insane.
Me: No. It’s multi-tasking.
Winners: Beer manufacturers. Ants getting drunk for free.
This is my second week of daily TMS treatments and I know that’s all I seem to talk about but that’s because it’s sort of eating up my life, but in a so far totally worthwhile way.
Today I finished this embroidery pattern, which seemed fitting because I was stabbing someone in the head with a needle while being stabbed in the head with magnets.
I don’t know if this is working or it’s a coincidence. I don’t know if it will keep working if it’s working now. But I know that mental illness is real and that we’re worth the process of looking for a cure. Today was a needed reminder of that.
So. Today is my seventh day of rTMS and I feel…crazy? Which makes sense because they don’t magnet punch mentally sound people in the head for 6 weeks but what I mean is that I feel crazy for feeling like maybe this could be working. Because (knocking on so much wood) I went from a full depression at the beginning of last week to a quick (for me) bounce back into “okay” and this weekend I actually felt good. Like, I wanted to leave the house voluntarily. I almost went to a museum. That sounds like a small thing but I assure you that it is not.
Yesterday – for the first time in months – I felt like listening to music. I don’t like music when I’m depressed. It makes me feel too much when I’m raw and it makes me realize how numb I am when I’m unable to feel anything. Instead I fill every quiet second with podcasts…anything to drown out the thoughts in my head and fill in the minutes until my head is right again. Wanting to listen to music is a sign I didn’t even know I was looking for and it’s also a sign showing how long it’s been since I’ve been “normal” as all of my music was still undownloaded from the last time I got a new phone.
I’m not 100%. I still feel exhausted. I still feel brain fog and anxiety and the flashes of light in the dark are still flashes rather than steady streams. It might be all in my head but that’s where I keep my crazy so that makes sense. It might be a placebo effect but since I’ve failed at so many treatments it seems unlikely. It might be coincidence that this bit of sweet relief started not long after treatment started and maybe would have happened normally. I won’t know for awhile and even if it works it might not work forever, but I am so clinging to this feeling and to the reminder that things can be good again. The reminder of how sweet it is to breathe again without having to remind yourself that this will pass.
I’ve had something really awesome to share with you for months but I’ve been so down that I didn’t want to share it because announcing something great and then listening to people be excited about something I can’t feel anything about can bring about such cognitive dissonance that it’s not worth even sharing but today I feel good so today I’m going to tell you that I’m currently working on two new books. TWO! I’ve been working on them for awhile but they are now actual books with real live editors and publishers and probably won’t be finished for a year or two because I am slow even when I am good but still.
One is a collection of humorous essays/memoir like Furiously Happy and Let’s Pretend This Never Happened and the other is a YA southern gothic novel that I’ve been working on when I was too dark to be funny. I’ll share a real announcement about them when I don’t have to rush off to the psych unit. Today is treatment plus analysis and it eats my whole day and all of my energy, but it so worth it if it works.
Also, several of you asked me to make t-shirts for you to wear to show your support for me and for the people you know who are struggling. Their specific suggestion was “You know…something that matches this community. Something weird but supportive.”
So. Yesterday I started rTMS (repetitive Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation) and if you’re confused then you missed my post explaining it and you need to go back and read it. I am currently in a depression so my head isn’t working perfectly but if I don’t write it down I’ll forget so let’s do this.
The most expensive hat I’ve never owned.
First off, it feels like a woodpecker is drilling holes into your head while you have an ice cream headache and also you’re paying for it to happen to you. And your head is in a vice and have you have tape on your face and protective earplugs on and your eyes are blinking involuntarily in a small convulsion and it looks like you’re winking at the doctor, nurse, and the medical students watching you, and then you have to tell them that you are not trying to seduce them but you say it way too loud because you have earplugs in and that’s awesome.
Secondly, I started this post wrong but my head hurts so I’m going backward. The doctor told me that before we start he needs to find out “where my thumb lives” and I was like, “Are you sure you’re a real doctor because my thumb lives on my hand and it’s really obvious” but turns out they have to find it from my brain, which seems like a really long trip, but whatever.
The doctor told me that in order to find the parts of the brain where they need to hit me with magnets they need to find the homunculus first and then work backward and I thought it was a trick because I’ve played Dungeons & Dragons and I am perfectly aware that a homunculus is a flying telepathic monster made of blood magic:
But the doctor was like, “Jesus, no, that’s horrifying. It’s this:”
Worst sex toy ever.
And that’s way more horrifying than the telepathic winged blood monster but apparently there are different parts of your body that are affected when you get magnet-punched in the brain-pan and to make sure they’re in the right spot they make you hold your thumb up like a hitchhiker and they keep magnet-punching your noggin until your thumb falls. I called it a reverse-Fonzie but the med students didn’t laugh because I guess they’re too cool for Fonzie.
Hey, remember when I said I started this woodpecker head stuff yesterday? Yeah, no. I got depressed and couldn’t concentrate enough to finish this post for a week so now it’s much later. But in a way it was good because that depression was enough to make me realize how terrible depression is even when it super sucks to have to leave the house and get hit in the head with an invisible chisel and it made me keep going even when I didn’t want to.
Anyway, here are the things that I found out about TMS:
My brain is not at all symmetrical which I thought was weird but then the doctor was like, “Well, your face isn’t symmetrical so why would your brain be symmetrical?” and that makes sense but it’s also a little insulting because basically I think he just said that I’m even ugly on the inside.
It super hurt the first day but everyone assured me that I’d quickly get used to being pummeled in the skull and they were totally right and also this feels like a pretty good metaphor for 2018 in general.
If it hurts a lot they might be on a nerve and if you tell them they can move it a little and then it only hurts a little. SCIENCE!
They literally put my head in a vice to do this but if you have a good imagination it almost looks like a fancy fascinator for a futuristic royal space wedding and I think if I keep doing it long enough I’ll develop a magneto-like super power, which would be nice to help find my keys or change the channel without a remote.
Every day they do 20 minutes with one pulse per second on my right side, and then on the left side of my brain they do 20 minutes with LOTS of pulses for 5 seconds followed by 10 second breaks.
I couldn’t write while being whacked in the head so instead I listened to TED talks and took up embroidery. Finished:
Classy AND positive.
Honestly, I don’t know if it’s working or not but today I feel better than I felt the day before I started and that feels like a good sign.
Pregnancy Calendar at Alpha Mom: Amalah’s week-by-week guide to the miracle of pregnancy and all the various indignities that come with it.
Melany’s GUYdlines : All snark, all true: Nine lives worth of short stories, advice & raw judgement on friendships, relationships & everything in between.
candidkay: Journalist, single mother of two. Taking the journey, bumps and all . . . you will laugh or cry in the passenger seat. Promise.
Sandrandan Jewelry: Eccentrically gorgeous jewelry; we may become your new addiction!
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