Random Bits

Celest joined Lotus as a crime-committing rabble rouser this year by pulling the fire alarm at school. No harm done, luckily, but a plan to prevent further such activities was put in place. She's very literal (she does have autism, after all); it said "pull" in big white letters, so she did...

Skipping anti-depressant meds is never a good idea. I don't do it intentionally, but I do have a habit of missing a day here and there. If I miss more than one day at a time I have a tendancy to become quite moody. I was working on a writing project the other night when I came across an article titled something like this, "Is bowel cancer fatal or can it be treated?" I burst into tears thinking about some poor person sitting in front of their computer searching for info on cancer. Had they just gotten a diagnosis of cancer? Had the doctor told them they had little to no chance of survival and they were doing their own research to see if it was true?
Then I got onto the very morbid train of thought that both my children and I will someday die. The thought of my children being hurt or dying makes me extremely depressed; it is inevitable that we'll all die someday, but thinking about it doesn't do any good. Still, it made me sob myself sick for about half an hour. I promptly went downstairs and took my Zoloft. Then I forced myself to write about something that wouldn't fill me with existential angst and morbid fear: weight loss...
Which brings me to my next random bit: I hate not being able to exercise. I haven't lifted weights in going on three weeks or more now. I'm really p*ssed about this, as I was hoping to gain muscle, not wither away the muscle I had. Also, I tend to be less depressed when I lift weights regularly. And winter makes me depressed, so I have the trifecta of depressants going for me: lack of exercise, irregular medication taking habits, and winter weather. Toss in an overall dissatisfaction with myself and my life, and you've got a recipe for deep unhappiness and self-destructive tendencies.
Having kids helps temper my emotional melodrama though; they don't leave me with the time or energy to wallow in self-pity for very long.