Monday, December 31, 2012

Obligatory Year-End Roundup

Ah, 2012.

I only got 158/366 pictures done (well, put up here). I did learn a lot about how to use different settings on my camera (and my phone's camera) and I hope to continue to learn more in the new year.

I read 64 of my goal 75 books this year. Not too shabby! Maybe next year I'll get 75. Or not. We'll just have to see.

I got a Mirena IUD (with mixed feelings as to how I like it) and C did *not* get a vasectomy.

The world did not end on 12/21. Obviously.

I joined a study looking to see whether meditation techniques can help prevent depression relapse.

We got a new (to us) car because our faithful PT Cruiser met its demise (and a deer) at 75mph in Wyoming. 

J started preschool and left daycare.

Looking forward?

I will mention that I don't believe that resolutions accomplish anything other than making people feel like failures. So I don't make them. However, I do think that the start of a new year is a good time to reflect and decide what sort of goals you have in mind. My goals are as follows:

1. Read 75 books.
2. Walk a mile every day (goal of 300 miles in the year, but we'll just see if I can just make it one day at a time). I did already walk 1.3 miles today, so that's a good start.
3. Set up a better financial plan (i.e. retirement, etc).
4. Make wills. No, we don't have them. I know, we should. I know.

Such lofty plans for the coming year :-p!

Feel free to share any goals you have!


Friday, December 14, 2012

Hug Your Children

Even when they're difficult. Even when they yell. Even when they kick and hit and bite. They're still your children, and you still have them to hug. Tell them you love them EVERY DAY.

Not everyone is so lucky.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

The Things We Suffer in the Name of Birth Control

I've been breaking out worse than I ever have before in the last month or so. My chest and upper back are all spotty, and it's horrid cystic acne, not just mild breakouts. A little Googling let to the Mayo Clinic's website, and I found this lovely list of Mirena side effects.
Side effects associated with Mirena include:
  • Headache
  • Acne
  • Breast tenderness
  • Breakthrough bleeding
  • Absence of periods (amenorrhea), especially after one year of use
  • Mood changes
  • Weight gain
  • Ovarian cysts
  • Abdominal or pelvic pain

I can check off #2, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 9. Hm. So that sucks. I guess at least there's an explanation for the 5 pounds I gained, and the acne, and the depression.

But hey, I'm not pregnant, so that's good, right?

Friday, December 7, 2012

Climbing Out

Thank god. It's over. I can climb back out of this hole and feel like a real person again. I was starting to wonder how long it would last.

Focusing on living in the moment really helped...going back to dwell on the past or ponder the future didn't.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

My Depression Has a First Name...

Okay, so not really. Beth Anne (over at Okay, BA!) has dubbed hers "The Big Ugly" but I don't feel right stealing that name. My own is different. It's mine. I feel oddly possessive of it, but possessive in the way that a person might be possessive of any illness. It's *my* disease. Maybe naming it will make it less scary. Har de har fucking har.

It's my old familiar, back again. Of course. Right when I join a study about it.

We had a white elephant gift exchange at work today. I bought a gift, knew I'd be cutting it close because it was at 12 and I'm in meetings every Tuesday from 11-1. I missed it. I got done with my meeting just in time to snag some food (which was yummy) but I missed all the fun. Pity party for one, yes? Someone kindly snagged a gift for me, since I was absent, which was very nice and it's awesome (Grinch boxers and M&Ms. Hee hee.) but I still feel sad and alone and pathetic and it's so stupid that I feel this way.

I think I'm feeling overwhelmed. I'm tired (of course... Because *god forbid* L would sleep through the night again. Or wake up less than twice, for less than 45 minutes...) and I'm feeling unmotivated. I feel restless. I don't want to move. At least it's not the complete Mess, just the depressed part. It's a piece of my mess pie. Fuck. Naming your illness is hard.

Fuck this. It's DEPRESSION. Giving it a cute name won't make it better. It's just depression. Plain and simple. It's ugly and big and horrible, and it's mine.

Breathe. In. Out. Feel the beat of my heart. Live in the moment. This, too, shall pass.