We had a large snowstorm that began on a Friday.  Saturday morning at around midnight we lost power.  Less than a half hour later it came back on.  The heat, however, did not.  I called at around 3:35 am the emergency line and someone said he’d come in a look at it first thing in the morning.  I woke up late morning to discover that not only did I not have heat, I also did not have hot water.  I waited several hours and called the office.  No answer. I called the emergency line and they said maintenance would call me with an update.  On Sunday we called back and were told again that we would be called.  The heat came back on, but they never called.  I still do not understand why we lost heat for over 24 hours when we had power.  They never plowed the parking lot that day.  My father and Kathy came over and dug me out.  That was what? Saturday the 7th?  Well, I was unable to park in the lot on Wednesday.  I got out of the lot after helping a woman get her car unstuck.  After deciding that it wasn’t worth trying to go to work, I drove back to the parking lot.  Someone else was stuck.  I had to park at the Foodland and walk back to my apartment.  I was told that the plow was broken.  The following week, on Tuesday, after trying to get up the parking lot to a parking space.  While backing down I got stuck in the driveway.  Half of my car was in a snow drift along the driveway.  I couldn’t get out.  AAA had to come and pull me out.  Two or three days later I got stuck in the driveway again.  This time a nice young man who lived in the complex got me out.  It did snow several times during this period of time, but I couldn’t tell that they plowed that week.  Also, do you know how hard it is to walk up a snow covered parking lot at night in the dark?  Not easy.  It doesn’t stop there.  The sidewalks that I would have to walk from the parking lot to my apartment and vice-versa?  Completely covered.  They did not do any type of plowing until Friday.  This past Friday.  Almost three weeks later. And they also only did the flats.  They have never plowed the stairs in my memory.  It was plowed earlier this week…on Wednesday.  Thursday morning I found one of the residents out with his son using a garden shovel to clear the other sidewalk.  The area from the porch of my building to the main sidewalk was not plowed.

Remember how I got pulled out from the snow two Tuesdays ago?  It did some damage to the car. I knew that it messed up the alignment and I thought that was causing the noises the care was making.  I didn’t realize until I was driving home from work one Wednesday night that it was more than that. I stopped on my way because the car was making horrible noises and I didn’t know why. I was scared.  I had never heard those noises before. I checked the tires that I thought was causing the problem and saw nothing. I called Dad and he told me that I would be okay to go home but after a false start I checked all the tires.  The driver’s rear wheel was completely flat. Great. Another AAA call in one day over a week.  Same dispatcher.  *sigh*  Two new tires and an alignment on Friday and further alignment issues to be dealt with in three weeks.  Close to $400 because they couldn’t effectively plow the parking lot.

The neighbors aren’t very nice.  Loud R & B or Hip Hop music playing during the day so loud that I can hear it in my bedroom.  The same people who bitched at Tom and threatened him for playing the acoustic guitar on a Saturday afternoon while I was at work.  Laundry left in the basement laundry room for months and counting.  Children’s shoes in front of the door from the stairwell to the apartment doors.  I asked the woman across the hall to please have her children not leave them in front of the door.  She basically told me I could have moved them myself since I didn’t have groceries at the moment. I felt like giving her a piece of my mind and telling her that the next time I got home from work and found them I’d pound on her door then instead of doing it when we were both home and awake.  Or maybe I’ll just take the shoes and toss them out into the snow.

One night we found a used syringe outside the building.  It was over a month ago and it was the last straw.

I’ve given up on trying to get management to do anything.  The things that they said they’d address they do not.  They tell stories which aren’t true and don’t do the things that they say they will.  They do not call me when they say they will.  I’m sick of it.  Just sick of it. I cannot wait until we move out.

It started out innocently enough.  I though it was my PMS acting up.  You know, getting me down, etc.  It wasn’t all that bad, though it was noticeable.  The next week I got sick.  I mean really sick.  I left work early on Monday, January 4.  I was definitely sick because going home that day cost me my the holiday pay from New Year’s Day.  Medco has a rule that you have to work 9 hours and 55 minutes the day before and the day after a holiday to get the holiday pay.  (Although if you do have the day scheduled off  ahead of time you do get the holiday.  Same if they offer VTO that day.)  I thought that caused the downess (is that a word?  Spell check says no.  Oh well, I’m using it anyways!) that week.  I saw my psychiatrist that week on Thursday and told her things were pretty much okay although we did raise the Celexa (or citalopram, if you prefer the generic name) for the week before and of my period and we added trazodone since the Celexa was causing me to twitch when I tried to go to sleep and wake up several times in the morning.  However, by the end of the time I saw my therapist on Friday I was not doing so great.  The following Monday I saw my psychiatrist again.  We decided try canceling the trazodone and start Ambien.  I saw Melissa again that Friday.  I still wasn’t doing well.  I was cryey (yes, another made up word!), lacked self confidence and self esteem, and was much more sensitive.  I’m generally a sensitive person, but it gets worse when the depression gets worse.  Then I got my period.  Oh God, the pain.  Nothing seem to help but heat.  I was unable to do taxes Saturday night and spent all day Sunday in bed on the heating pad.  I can’t take ibuprofen so no Advil, Aleve, etc.  *sigh*  I tried etodolac, but it didn’t seem to help.  Luckily the worst part was on Saturday and Sunday, both days on which I do not work.  I’m actually thinking of asking for something stronger for next time.  Vicodin, maybe.  Yeah, it’s that bad.  That was the weekend.

Monday was great.  I was feeling fine (okay, I had some residual pain, but nothing like the weekend) and was feeling better.  I never got the Ambien so I figured it wasn’t the trazodone that was causing the problem.  (I had wondered about that, considering how my symptoms disappeared once I stopped taking certain medications on a regular basis.)  Wednesday I saw Melissa and discussed it and we agreed that it didn’t seem to be the problem.  It was a hectic week.  On Monday they made an announcement that overtime was desperately needed and that if they didn’t reach the 20% mark that they would have to mandate overtime.  So I signed up for 11 hours that week during weekdays and was considering working on the weekend, especially Sunday.  Why Sunday?  They give doubletime on Sundays for any week you work 8 hours of overtime Monday through Saturday on.  When I found out that Tom had decided to work that weekend so he could get more money and 2700 miles (a record, legal high for him) i thought great! Extra money!  It would really work out.  It didn’t.

Thursday started out as an okay day.  I was more stressed than usual since I had worked 4 hours of OT already.  Then we had Wow awards.  A lot of people diss the Wow awards but they do mean something to me.  Two people who don’t like me both got awards for something I do all the time.  One of them I do several times a day, even several times a shift.  I, however, don’t have tons of friends so I don’t really get nominated for a Wow unless I ask for it.  I even do more than that to help the customers get what they want.  It kinda made me angry which of course got suppressed and turned into depression.  By my 8:45 pm break, I was starting to stutter.  I’ve stuttered with my depression before so I knew it was that.  All week (and the week before) I had been escaping from my seat to the bathroom to spend a few minutes reading.  No, not the most diligent, but when you’re trying to keep from falling apart on the floor with people who are mean and don’t like you a few seats down, you do whatever works.  After my last break at 11 pm, I went to the bathroom and texted Tom. I basically asked him (okay, begged him) if it would be okay if I didn’t do OT the next day.  My ability to make decisions that may upset someone goes down to almost nil when I’m depressed.  Okay, that might have been before my last break.  Actually, I think it was.  My memory also suffers when my depression gets worse.  I also tend to have problems finding words, although that hasn’t really shown up this time.  After my last break, I started shaking.  I had been jumping, but it got worse.  I was starting to lose it, so I headed to the private bathroom to call Mom.  We decided that I definitely shouldn’t work on Friday and that I shouldn’t work post shift ot that night.  Mom told me to call her when I got home.  Then I called Tom. I was scared and feeling alone and just wanted reassurance and love.  Big mistake that I won’t make again.  He was sleepy and almost immediately told me to go to the hospital.  *sigh*  I didn’t need a hospital.  I needed support.  I managed to get him off the phone, cried a little bit more, and went out to find a lead or supervisor to cancel my ot.  I felt like such a failure.  A complete failure.  I hate it when I can’t do what I said I’d do, but I couldn’t help it.  I really couldn’t.

I’ve been stuttering on and off all weekend.  Sometimes I can force myself to not stutter, but it takes a lot of work.  I’ve never stuttered this bad before.  I was hoping a weekend of relaxation would cure the stuttering and I would just have to get through another week.  Hasn’t happened.  I’ve done a couple things to make me happier.  I got nails put on with a really cool prismatic purple polish.  I also got a haircut. I want to get contacts, but I chickened out on Friday.  I’ll have to try again next week.  I don’t see either Melissa or Dr. Cutlip next week.  I will be calling Dr. Cutlip.  The downward turn might have been caused be the cessation of the risperidone.  The doc told me it takes about 3 months to get stuff out of your system.  I stopped it in the middle of November.   It’s about 2 and 1/2 months now.  That could definitely be it, but I don’t want to go back on it if I don’t have to.  I lost between 15 and 20 pounds in about a month when I went off of it.  It took all summer to lose the other 15 or so pounds, just as a comparison.  I don’t know what we’ll put me on or I’ll get just an antidepressant or both an antidepressant and an anti-anxiety medication.  I’m scared. I don’t think I’ll talk to anyone at work until I stop stuttering.  Well, if I can help it.  I’m miserable.  I’m lonely.  I’m not very fond of life right now.  I hope this improves. Quickly.

Remember September 11, 2001?  Did you know that the majority of the employees of Morgan Stanley got out alive?  We’re talking over 80%.  Why did they get out when so many people didn’t?  Experts say that it was due to the fact that over the past three years the gentleman in charge of security put his colleagues through a consistent and fairly rigorous series of fire drills.  The employees, especially the long time employees, knew where the exits were, where the stairs were, what it was like to go down the stairs, and where to meet after they got out of the building.  That man, who’s name I do not know, is credited with saving many lives.  Does your employer do drills?  When was the last time you had one?  Do you know the emergency plans for your company?  They should have them.  You should know them.  I encourage you to talk to the people you work for and encourage them to get this knowledge out.  It may just save your life.

It’s the first day of the new year.  Many of you have new homes, new family members, etc. Make plans. Check your escapes. Check you fire alarms.  It’s a proven fact that having some sort of plan and having practiced that plan can make the difference between life and death in a serious situation.  It’s a pain and can take time away from other things, but if you ever have to use it, it could save your life or the life of someone you love. Do you really want to deal with the possible consequences of not knowing what to do?

Have a healthy, happy, and safe new year!!

There are days when I don’t really like my life. Well, it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s that I don’t find it all that impressive. It usually happens around the time I see my sister. She showed up on Thanksgiving and wouldn’t you know it, I’ve been cry-y all day. She noticed that I had lost weight, but freaked when she found out I was off of my low carb diet. She asked me if I was engaged yet and then proceeded to tell me that I should wait six years before getting married. I guess she really doesn’t want me to have children. I’ll be 36 by then. That’s a little old for that type of thing. Mom had us when she was 30 and 32 and was the oldest mom at the bus stop. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t want kids. Not that I know when I’ll every get proposed to. Tom is insisting on buying me a diamond even though I’ve told him that I’d be perfectly happy with an Epiphany engagement ring. Then again, I don’t know how I would afford a wedding. I have so much debt. And I never could afford one that could compare to my sister’s. I do have a gorgeous wedding gown that I love with all the trimmings (though I would have to find the shoes), but…I don’t know. She had her’s at Phipp’s Conservatory. I could never afford a place that nice. She had everything so nice. Our CA relatives (and their children from various parts of the US) flew/drove in for her wedding. Including our 92 year old grandfather. I don’t think they’d do that for mine. Debbie flies out and sees all of them all the time. She knows our cousins and our cousins children. I don’t. They would come out if Grandpa was coming because we all know our time is short with him. If he came to this coast for anything (cause most of the cousins are in MA area) they’d come for it. I don’t think he’ll be around in 6 years. Of course, it may be six years before I can afford a wedding. Tom wants a big wedding, too. I’m thinking more of sneaking off to Vegas or Fl or one of the Carolinas and getting married. Maybe on the beach. No pressure. I’d fail, but I wouldn’t fail in front of everyone else.

I feel so lonely these days. I rarely see anyone. People are too busy to see me. They have families and children and lives. I don’t think I have much in common with them anymore. We have memories, but they all are from years gone by (think high school and college). They don’t invite me places (though the Steel City Knitter did invite me for Thanksgiving). Once again I feel like I don’t belong. Tom loves me, but he’s away for most of the week and goes to bed before I get off of work every night. Mom loves me, but she’s an hour away and again, goes to bed before I get off of work. Dad and Kathy love me, but I think they are the busiest of them all. Kit Kit and Jack love me. I get kisses from them. But I’m having a rough day and I don’t feel loved right now.

All through growing up great things were expected of me. I was an honor’s student, in GATE clases and advanced science and math courses. I sang, which I don’t do anymore. I was in musicals. I performed. I took part in things. I was in advanced classes in college as well. It was expected that I would go into math or science and do great things, make money, and make people proud. I didn’t do that. I changed from meteorology to English in college and then dropped out. I started temping and fell in love with data entry. I got a good job at a bank downtown earning a lot of money and I didn’t like it. I hated it, in fact. So I went back to data entry. I moved up in my data entry position and am now making more than I did at the bank job, but come on – it’s data freakin’ entry. Not complicated. Not difficult, unless you count reading handwriting as difficult. Although, it’s not. I love my job. I do it ten hours a day, four days a week. I’m fairly good at it, too. But I don’t do anything special, or complicated, or important. Debbie went to college, learned to fly, graduated early, got a job as a pilot, moved up in the ranks, married a pilot, has a house, makes money, is not in debt, and doesn’t have a huge list of failures in her portfolio. The only ones of those that I’ve done is gone to college and moved up in the ranks. Not especially impressive. And apparently I’m bossy, too. And know-it-all. Both Mom and Tom said I was. No wonder the ones who truly want me around are Tom, Mom, Jack, and Kit Kit. I don’t think I would want me around either.

I mentioned in September in this post that I had lost 13 lbs over the summer, which is great. I have continued to lose weight since then. Once I got off of my risperidal I did a search at work to find out about risperdal (something I now know I have access to). I had noticed something odd a few days after I stopped taking the med. I stopped enjoying the salads. (Okay, originally I thought it was the flu I caught. I went home sick my first week out on the floor and missed another day due to it. Luckily the only time I threw up was on the way home from work. And I manged to get out of the car before that happened.). I would take a bite of the salad and couldn’t eat. I tried changing lettuce mixtures and it was no help. I was still eating my apples and the ham from my salads but that was it. I also wasn’t as hungry. The apple and the ham and the second apple I had on my last break would last me for the rest of the night. I wasn’t eating once I got home from work either. Well, when I looked up the risperidal I discovered that it increases your appetite. You could have pushed me over with a feather when I saw that one. These days I’m eating two pieces of Italian bread with butter and an apple for dinner. (Yeah, so much for my low carb diet!) I have had some popcorn on my first break and an apple on my last break and a couple of pieces of candy and that’s about it. I went out to dinner with Mom on Friday and I could finish my steak. And it was only a 7 oz steak. I ate almost none of my fries, although I did eat a bunch of mozzarella sticks. It’s one of the few ways I’ll actually eat cheese. I had been in size 18 jeans over the summer and several weeks back when I was at Mom’s I grabbed some size 16’s and a bunch of nice blouses from my Mellon job which at that point either fit or almost fit me. About a week after that I switch to wearing the size 16’s. They got very baggy very quickly. Also the end of my belt was sticking out very far. Way too long for the first belt loop, but not quite long enough for the second. Friday I put on the size 14 jeans I had grabbed from Mom’s and they fit. Woohoo! I bought a smaller belt (went from a 42” to a 38”) and when I got back to mom’s I weighed myself. Since May (or so) I have lost a grand total of 31 lbs! That’s a not so small dog. Or three + Jack’s:

The most amazing thing is that I have done nothing except get off my meds. I have exercised exactly twice (and one of those the hot water went off during so I got to take a cold shower that night). Exercising is not one of my strong points. I have not been following my low carb diet very well at all. (I’m hoping that the weight loss with help with the triglycerides.) I have just stopped taking the meds. I also have not gained any weight since starting the Celexa, so that wasn’t the drug that was causing the problems with my weight. It’s so exciting. My face has thinned out and I can wear clothes I have worn in over a year. My face is no longer round! Getting off of the meds wasn’t easy for me or my family. Tom bore the brunt of it and he held up remarkably well. No, it was most certainly not easy. But it paid off. It was worth it.

Warning: This may not apply to everyone. This is just what happened to me. Every person is different and due to severe reactions which may occur (which did happen to my friend Leslie) consult with a doctor before discontinuing any form of your medication. When I ran out of the clonopin before I was able to refill it I went through withdrawal. I was stupid (yes, I’ll admit it. It was very stupid.) and did not refill it right away. Once I got through the withdrawal I decided to see if I really needed the anti anxiety medication after all. I live five minutes from the pharmacy and could go there at any point to get them filled if I had an attack, so I decided to wait. And you won’t believe what I noticed – all my symptoms disappeared. All the problems I’d been having with depression and anxiety went away. To this day, I have not had a single problem with anxiety. So I compounded my stupidity and since the doctors in the hospital had decided to cut most of my meds with no slow down, so did I. Of course, I weaned myself off of the pills. I cut down what I was taking week by week until I was taking nothing. I watched carefully and not once did I have a problem that wasn’t related directly to finances. I had missed an appt with my psychiatrist but I wasn’t worried. The only pill that stopping made me really sick and unable to complete was the risperdal. So I went back on it.

Well, I saw my psychiatrist again and she agreed to let me off the risperidal. I went down to one-half of a pill, then one-quarter, then none. As I was doing this my irritation level was increasing and so was my anger. I was always irritated and often angry. My Mom’s therapist told her that anger is often a sign of depression. The day I went off the last of the risperdal, I called VBHA and made an appointment with my psychiatrist. The following Thursday I got up at the crack of dawn and went to see her. I’m currently taking 20 mg of Celexa, which is one of the mildest antidepressants and known for having the least amount of side affects. My irritation is gone. I have more normal anger now. I get easily irritated when I’m over heated, for the most part. And Melissa said that the meds would make no difference with my anger. Ha! My dry mouth is back (although that does seem to be fading somewhat) and I’m having trouble staying asleep in the morning. I do have a little bit of trouble falling asleep, but between the hours of 9 am and 11:30 am I get very poor sleep and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t think I want to go on sleeping meds again. I’m hoping it will get better.

I will say this for those of you who are confused.  I didn’t get off of my medications simply because I no longer wanted to be on them.  It was much more complicated than that.  I was put on anti-anxiety medications when I was placed in the hospital in 2001 because I was shaking in the ER when I was admitted.  I was scared.  I think most people with a modicom of sense would have been in my position.  I was never taken off of it.  When I ran out in March and stopped taking it on my own, my breakthrough anxiety and depression simply disappeared.  Since taking me off most of my meds cold turkey in December (when I went in the hospital the second time) had little affect on me and since I had no breakthrough symptoms I decided to go off of them as well.  I didn’t want to be on what I didn’t need to be on.  I had been having breakthrough symptoms ever since I left the hospital the first time.  We kept increasing dosages and adding medications.  It always broke through.  Since, in March, I was convinced it was the anti-anxiety drugs which were causing the breakthrough symptoms, I wanted to see if I truly needed all of those meds.  Turns out, in my case, I did not.  I was always willing to go back on the medications if I needed them.  I wanted to see if I did and to see what symptoms were truly mine and what were the by-products of the medications.  It’s not for everyone.  It’s not something to do rashly.  There are many, many people in the world who need these medications and need many different medications to get through the depression.  My situation is not typical.  That’s that.

In my last post I mentioned the tooth incident. Well, one day during training I was eating my salad for lunch when I started chewing on something hard. It was a couple of pieces of stuff in my mouth. Part of it was metal attached to part of a tooth and the other chunk was pure metal. My tooth had broken in half and the root canal had fallen out. *sigh* I had a sharp edge and went to see my dentist. He said the other half had to come out and drilled down the sharp edge. A month later I went to see the oral surgeon. It was amusing. He walks in and asks me what hurts. My response? Nothing. Oh, the look on his face! He then asked me why I was there and I said I had half a tooth that needed to come out. He put me out (my decision and much easier on my TMJ), numbed me up, and Tom took me home. Tom couldn’t stay with me (idiot trucking company) so Mom came over and stayed with me the rest of the day. It was Friday the thirteenth. My cheek hurt the most. I hurt for about a week. My teeth in front of that tooth hurt some as well. But my TMJ never acted up. Woohoo!! Now to see whether Delta will cover the iv sedation. I’m not too hopeful on that score.

I’m sure the first thing y’all are wondering about is my (not-so) new job. Well, my vacation was great and I had a great birthday. Yes, I am now the big 3-0. Not so bad, IMHO. Tom was even home that week, although he didn’t get paid for it. *shakes fist at trucking company* He got me Bath and Body Works items – candles, etc. I *love* their candles. Especially Cinnamon Stick and Spice. (BTW, Spice candles are available in select stores! Yippee!)

Now, where was I? Hmm…oh yeah. The job!

I am now an order entry technician or an order completion technician, depending on who you ask and who’s doing the talking. *rolls eyes* I work 2 pm to 12:30 am EST (or EDT, depending on the time of the year). I really like. I’m more awake during work. Much more awake. I’m much more awake driving to and from work as well. I stay up to anywhere between 2 am and 4 am-ish most nights, so if you’re up late (or early, depending on your view of the world) feel free to plurk, lj, fb, tweet, im, etc. me. Training was great. Well, except for the tooth incident, but that’s another post. I started with another header tech and that was it. After two weeks of formal training, we were put out on the floor with buddies. After two weeks with the buddies, we were thrown to the wolves. Well, not really. We do have leads to ask questions to and supervisors, although there was a week when H was on vacation, RW went home sick, and that Thursday N didn’t come in either. Trying times. We did get rid of some of the stupider HE rules. We don’t have to shelf things unless we have a question and can’t find someone one. We’re allowed to return things (though we’re not allowed to cherry pick). And at the end of the work day we can return and leave. Since C (my fellow HE Tech) and I were on probation for the job but not initial probation for the company, we’re still allowed to start 5 minutes early and leave 5 minutes early, which is essential if you want a fast van trip. (Yes, I still ride the van but it’s not as much of a hassle) It strikes me as funny. When I worked 7-530, the first van was always filled up with HE techs. Very few OE techs made it into the first van, despite the fact that they are closer to the exit. Now that I’m on the late shift, OE techs get the first van (and we squish in if needed – the other van driver [if he's there at all] doesn’t leave until after 12:30, so you end up sitting in the van waiting which sucks) and I don’t see hide nor hair of the he techs. Of course, they often get VTO, so they might just not be there.

One of the things I was worried about was my speed. I know that one HE tech who tried to go to OE was sent back because she wasn’t fast enough. Well, it’s better than losing the job, it still sucks. Well, I need to have no worries. At two months after starting I’m well past the point where I would need to be as a regular employee. I’m in the seventies and they’re expected to be about 65. Now I just have to get my errors under control. I’m at 7+ thousand parts per million and I need to be between 3 and 4 thousand parts per million. My major problem is directions so I’m endeavoring to pay more attention to that aspect of the prescriptions.

I guess the most important thing is that I love it. I love it a lot more than HE and I loved HE. OE is more challenging, more complicated and a lot more fun. At least, IMHO. Now we just need to stop running out of work. We keep getting VTO, and although we’ve had enough work to enable me to work till the end of the shift, I keep getting nervous that we will run out. Another good thing – we get bonuses this week, which I should get because I did work for the company last quarter when it was earned. It is a 2.31% bonus (the highest I’ve ever seen) and it should be paid out based on my OE salary. Woohoo! Another perk? I work M-R, which means every week I have Friday off. This week I get Thanksgiving off as well. Four day weekend FTW! Although I will be working for a half hour on Thanksgiving since my shift doesn’t end until 12:30 am. Hmmm….I wonder if I get OT for working on the holiday? Somehow I doubt it. Oh well. It still rocks!