42. Deep breaths.

Gah, alright.  This blog is a bit personal, but hey.  I trust you all to "do no harm".
So in my gradual weaning off the Klonopin (the anti-seizure, tranquilizing drug that had been "easing" my nerve deal), I have encountered, er, difficulties at each stage.  Both physiological and psychological hiccups. 
Physiologically, each time I cut back, I enjoy multiple sequential sleepless restless nights, followed by several days of general jitteriness and creepy drug withdrawal feelings.
Psychologically, it's a whole horror show inside my head.  First, not sleeping, as we have learned, makes me emotionally labile.  Add that to feeling jittery, and my need to attribute this jitteriness to something actually happening in my life, and I am practically seeking out things that perhaps ordinarily would upset me, and assuming that's why I'm jittery and antsy and otherwise edgy/irritable.  For example, last night we had our annual HOA meeting.  Husband is the President of the board, making me First Lady, and requiring my presence.  Booo.  These meetings are just an opportunity for home owners to show up and yell about this or that, hear a satisfactory answer, then repeat themselves ad nauseum until eventually, the meeting is adjourned.  Not excited about it.  Feeling generally meh about it, but turning into some bigger deal than it needs to be in my head, because I am already in like, junkie medication withdrawal and feel like poop.
But then, I get there, and although there was one brief moment with several people yelling at once about the inefficient snow removal we experienced this past winter where I wanted to die, it really wasn't too bad.  I practiced self-calm techniques.  Which for me, are not some highly sophisticated technique of relaxation, or cognitive behavioral therapy of some kind.  They involve seeking out the humor in the situation (perhaps by judging others in my head, yes, I admit it), and realizing that eventually this meeting will be over, and I can share my funny thoughts with my neighbors later.  So, the table with all the yelling Grumpy Gills, suddenly became known to me as "the HumDrum-V", whereas the table I sat at (with the board members) was "the Fun-V".  This is from Iron Man, a pun about the Hum-Vs they were riding in.  Hah hah hhhah.
But back to more of what else is going on in my head.  I'm completely off the Klonopin as of two nights ago.  I've been hoping to be able to do this for MONTHS.  What's stopped me?  Fear.  Fear that if I stop, I'll feel worse and have to get back on.  Fear of what that might mean if I do feel worse, will I ever fucking just get better?  But you know, it hasn't been too bad.  At least, it's better than it was this time last year.  And for as incredibly impatient as I am, calculating recovery time in months or seasons is almost offensive an idea.  But, it's the only measurement in which I can see an improvement, so I have to accept it.  I would've loved to have said, yeah, just the other day my nerves were doing this crazy weird numb/tingly thing and it was kinda annoying, but this week it's completely gone and I feel awesome.  Instead, I'm stuck with, last April I had a spinal tap and my brain leaked fluid for a week.  I feel better than that now.  Even slightly better is that, last July I said I'd be OK if this was as good as it got for me, because at least I feel better than I did two months ago, and I feel better now than I did in July.  I can EVEN say that I feel better now than I did in March.  And that's almost miraculous.
And somehow, through all this crap, I can still enjoy a nice puffy cloud in the sky.

So, please, keep your fingers crossed I make it through this week on sub-par sleep without totally flipping out.  And that I don't start to feel worse.  And that I can adjust to life without the constant sedation I've experienced the last 13 months.  And, please, be impressed that I have made all these incredible observations about myself and shared them all with you (self-mocking tone there).

No. 41

Alright, so although these topics may seem inane and superficial, I'm going to try and tie them into mindfulness and gratitude anyway.
First, I've been into getting manicures lately.  It was a luxury I couldn't really indulge in with my previous job, as not only were long nails not allowed in my profession, they would've been ruined within days.  So on a whim, I went to the salon where I've gotten many pedicures and asked for a manicure.  Husband had requested "those French tips" (it actually still baffles me that he knew what those were), so that is what I requested.  The manicurist suggested I try the "gel" polish, since it was new and would last longer.  I'm convinced, sure, what the hell.  Gel it up.
And honestly, I didn't really realize how nice manicures are.  Or that I apparently have really nice natural nails.  The few times I've gone, the other women in the salon have commented on them, and the manicurists there just rave about them.  Actually, there have been several similar conversations that were a bit strange to me: "are those yours?" (in reference to my nails), which gave me pause "whose else would they be, seriously?" and to which the manicurist replied, almost proudly, "yes, those are her real nails".  Which is received with something like awe, and nods of approval.  So, I guess my "real" nails are a bit of a rarity in salons where most are acrylic. 
So, one day when I was just buzzing with nervous tension and restlessness, I went in after work for a manicure.  I struggled with it for awhile, because they are expensive and I didn't really need one for another few days, but I just wanted to indulge myself.  And it was lovely.  I was pampered and complimented for over an hour.  I was called "honey", all my fingerly flaws were tended to (some polish chips, cleaned up cuticles, nails reshaped, etc.), and I left after a nice hand and forearm massage with beautiful nails and higher spirits, and less of that "bleck" feeling.  I was thankful for that, and mindful of the pampering and self-care I had allowed myself.

And one more thing: I'd like to give a "shout out" to Tylenol PM.  I sort of feel like it's a bit magical.  I don't know if it's because when I take it, I can sleep forever, or if it has anything to do with the "PM" part (which is an anti-histamine; Benadryl), but the mornings after I take it, I wake up feeling almost healed.  As if, during the night, the anti-histamine has gone into my body, sought out and healed all the inflamed and irritated parts, and let me sleep for ten hours to wake up restored.  It's like a magic bean, coated in EZ swallow blue. 

Forty? Who knew I had that much to say...

I'm still a little hung up on my little union of gratitude and meaning that came to me last week.  So much so, that I am merging in a third idea: mindfulness.
This word has been the topic of much discussion at home lately.  I can't claim to know very much about the idea, but I can share a little bit about what it means to me.
First, mindfulness in regards to eating.  A mindful eating experience would include being aware of how the food feels and smells as you prepare it.  The sensation of the food in your hands, the aromas of it cooking, the sight of it on your counter/in your pot/etc.  Using all your senses before it even gets to your mouth.  Then, mindfulness of the food on your fork, or in your hands; feeling it's weight, noting the texture, inhaling it's scent as it nears your mouth. 
Once you take a bite, be aware of all the sensations you're experiencing.  How good it smells, the feel of the food in your mouth, how it tastes.  Maybe even enjoy the subtle mixing of flavors as you chew and enjoy, using all your senses.
This donut, for which I was very grateful last week, was an example of a mindful eating experience.  First, it sat on my desk for some time before I ate it.  So I could smell the sugary coconut for awhile.  Then, I picked it up, noted it's weight, the feel of the coconut flakes kind of smashing into the icing as I held it, then took a bite.  The awesome and kind of surprising thing, was that it tasted much like it looked (heavenly), but with a hint of lemon.  Interesting, right?

So, let's bring mindfulness into this marriage of gratitude and meaning. What do you think?  I think it's fantastic.  Feeling more present in your moment, more aware.  Experiencing your gratitude with all your senses.  Finding meaning in that moment.
And, eating coconut donuts.