We had a late start Saturday driving to Louisville for the concert. (We had to make a sudden visit to the vet for the dog’s bordatella shot before we could pop Mac into his luxury cabana).
I enjoyed the five hour drive, but I found I noticed every dead patch of grass along the highway. “Well, that’s odd,” I thought, “Usually I’m not so struck by the dead scenery.” And, I just felt off.
Because of the bordatella delay, we couldn’t make it to the Lebowski Fest. Instead, we went right to the hotel where, sadly, they did NOT have a guest register, so I could NOT sign in as Spunky L. S_______.
As we waited for the concert, I was amazed to find Louisville hotter and more humid than Saint Louis. I was not sweaty ’til I came to Louisville. At one point the humidity knocked me back on my ass while I slowly grabbed for Gary’s arm. I was off, and my balance was off.
The concert started, and I just felt more and more off. It was like the dead grass in the scenery — I heard all the fun and the music and the banter, but my ears kept being drawn to the sadness in the lyrics. Then, of course, my life achieved its pinnacle and Gary and I agreed the trip was entirely worthwhile.
Later that night Gary coughed, and I thought, “Oh, that’s why I’m off, Gary’s got a cold and I’m catching it.” Gary claimed to have bordatella, though.
Sunday was spent driving past dead grass in the median, visiting a cave to be featured later, and driving past more and more dead grass. Dead median grass and dead gray barns.
It all made sense, though, Monday morning when I went to the dentist. We talked about my new habit of clenching my teeth at night. I asked why, and she said, “Stress.”
“No, I’m really not a very stressed person.” Except when people are chipping at my teeth. She got out the nitrous, put on the mask and said, “Just relax and breathe.”
“You don’t deserve to breathe,” said the Voice in my head.
I was surprised to hear the long-lost voice coming out of the blue like that. It’s been ten years since it woke me up every night at three to tell me I didn’t deserve to be asleep, then took over my every waking thought. Still I connected the dots, the Voice with the recent Crabgrass-o-Vision, and knew what I should do.
“But I don’t want to,” I thought, “I don’t want to up my medication. I’ll just medicate myself with some of this nice nitrous oxide while I review my options.” I thought about drinking, since that’s an option I didn’t try ten years ago. Then I thought about drugs, and then I stopped, because then why not just take the legal drugs I have? Therapy? I can’t imagine going to therapy and having therapy adjust the serotonin in my brain.
So, about the time I decided to try exercise and eating right and Scientology, the cleaning was over. I got the all clear to sit up. I was prepared for a comment from the hygienist like, “So, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been crying this whole time,” then I realized I’d been wearing some protective dark glasses they gave me. I didn’t give up those glasses till the last minute. Still my eyes prompted an “Oh my GOD” from the hygienist. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, the Voice in my head is talking to me again.”
Yes. Yes. Yes I said that. It seemed to be the only explanation at the time.
So, I’m going to pay close attention for the next week to see if the grass greens up, and if exercise and a diet of vegetables and vitamins doesn’t hush up the Voice, I suppose I’ll have to do what I’m supposed to do.
I just don’t wanna.
23 responses to “Concert in Detail with Bonus Dental Exam!”
Oh man…your voice sounds like mine. Maybe we could jettison them into outer space together, where they could make each other miserable. I admire your resolve to do all these right and healthy things but in the meantime, how about talking to your neuropsychiatrist? I know. I don’t like it either when I have to do the same thing. But it could just be a rough patch. Girl, cut yourself a lot of slack for at least the next year.
I call it the Demon Chorus. Vegies don’t do a damn thing, but getting off my ass helps. I am considering going back on meds because it’s hard to get off my ass while carrying a Demon Chorus, but, like you, I don’t wanna.Don’t ask me why I don’t wanna, as I suspect it’s them, but I don’t want them to know I suspect.
I’ve been through this cycle too many times. Even knowing the signs doesn’t make it any easier to avert. Those special serotonin drugs really do help to at least provide you with a ladder with which to climb out of the well. Beautifully written btw.
Have you ever read Eat, Pray, Love? Her voice is a cowboy who puts his boots up on the furniture and has no manners. It’s so perfect. But regardless, when the voice comes, its definitely time to crank up the Celexa just a touch. 🙂
After my third cycle on and off vitamin Z, I decided it was best for all concerned if I just stayed on it. Like, forever.BTW – there’s a widget over there telling me that there’s gonna be a solar eclipse in 0 minutes. Is that related to the dead grass and voices in your head?
Jenny, if only my little voice had such a character! At least I could tell him to get his Marlboro smokin’ self out of my head. No, I know who she is and I know just how she got here. She’s been quiet for a long time but only lately (hm..phase of the moon?) been acting up. Queen, I hope yours isn’t your mother, as my constant unwelcome visitor is my mother. But whoever it is, listen to the angelic chorus (that would be us) and do what you gotta do.And hugs and stuff from Becs.
My voice is a giant asshole that sounds too much like my mom. She thinks I’m really good at fooling everyone into thinking I’m a good person, too.In unrelated news, Ellen! Did you drive Steven Page to narcotics? He got arrested! Boo!
for what its worth and im sure youre aware of this already, there has been a lot of research that supports a link between seratonin levels and exercize. . .that sera shes a bitch, cant live with her, cant live without herbad joking aside, youre description of it is beautiful and helps me to understand in a way i didnt think about before. . . then again you have a knack for thati hope you feel better soon
Oh dear. Enter me into evidence as Exhibit 1 when you need to rebut the Voice. I think you’re groovy. I hope things sort out.
Is there a reason you don’t wanna? I’ve asked twice for a Lexapro increase, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Therapy might help you deal with it, but when you get right down to it, you’ve got a nasty disease which likes to mess with the chemicals in your head.Oh, and I don’t have a voice, I have a black monster that likes to sink its claws in my throat.
I read regularly but don’t comment much, although I love you and your writing. I warn you, I’m about to overshare. (Danger! Will Robinson!) What works for me to quiet things down in my head is to set a timer for 20 minutes (putting it in a drawer or something so it isn’t too loud when it goes off), asking for protection and guidance, and then settling down. I imagine having an inner conversation with (I don’t know that I’ve ever defined it. God? A female angel? My intuition? My higher self? Glenda, the Good Witch? I dunno. But someone/thing who is On My Side.) Sometimes I even imagine white light coming into my head, filling my entire body. Then I think about my problems or whatever, and sometimes I find a brilliant solution I hadn’t thought of before. Now I had to work my way up to 20 minutes, I started with 5 because I couldn’t keep still that long at first. And hmm, whenever I find myself suggesting something to someone, it’s usually something that i need to do myself, and I haven’t meditated in a while, so I’m making a commitment here to do this tomorrow.
Good luck with the voice. If it’s any comfort to you at all, when I read your old entries last year (I went through a phase where I tried to read your whole blog), it was the first time I’d heard of things being described that way, and the first time I felt like maybe my voice really was wrong. It was a great feeling. Thanks for talking about it. And good luck.
You did a great job at lunch today.Don’t quiet the voice too much. I kind of like your voice.
Becs – Well, I should. I told the hygenist I would call Dr. G.Sherri – Oh ho, Sherri – you know too well the survival tactics of the Demon Chorus.Lisa Emrich – Yes. But sometimes, don’t you just want to stay in the well? Just for a moment while you know you can still get out? Jenny – No way – thats in that book? I thought it was all reflections on pasta, somehow.Magpie – When you say “for all concerned,” I should look to my brother. He hates his meds, but he takes them for the sake of people he is around. And yeah, I went to tell the mortgage widget to shut off and that turned up. I should tidy things up around here.Becs – you all really are an angerlic chorus – or, as the Voice would say, deluded victims of my own outrageous facade. The Voice is a bit melodramatic.Angie – Mine isn’t my Mom. Maybe your Mom just happens to sound like your voice. Mine isnt anyone related to me, come to think of it. Oh, and I continue to have no comment on Steven. Except that it is evident I need to go listen to War On Drugs again to encourage me to take my antidepressants.Keri – Thank you. And I did exercise twice today, and the grass looks good.Tasterspoon- Ask Gary – it is very tedious rebutting the Voice. “You aren’t an awful person …” and then after two hours of the same, “You are crazy. Craaaaazy.”Jammies – Churchill said his was a black dog. And yes, I know, when Mom was dying I kicked it up a notch, but this – I don’t have a good reason for this but my own uselessness.Libby – I could easily sit still 20 minutes, just I would have trouble concentrating on myself. Certainly not if I had to hear positive things about myself from an inner voice. Now, I wonder if daydreaming is as good as meditating.Erin – no, thank you. That was so nice you said that.Caroline – the voice that tells me to kill myself?
I guess we all know what it’s like to have the colour sucked out of life, and how hard it can be to imagine things ever getting better – but we know that they do, sooner or later. Hang on in there, know you’re not alone, and go and have a look at this, I guarantee it’ll cheer you up for a wee while anyway: www
Let me talk to the voice in your head.
OK, maybe not that voice. Just the voice that tells you “the inside of your colon is the perfect bathroom color!”
“I hear my voice and it’s been here” — Tori Amos “Little Earthquakes”http://www.purelyrics.com/index.php?lyrics=hwnqfeli
Big Dot – That guy! Shaking the booty.Friend #3 – And what good did it do you? Oh, and the Voice says Hi.Caroline – Okay then. Friend #3 had a little chat with the Voice today. The Voice argued.#0.75 – Mmm. “Yes I know what you think of me- you never shut up” I need to listen to more Tori Amos. Whats the best Tori Amos CD?
Staying in the well? Absolutely! I’ve often silently wished to float around in there (my well is pretty big) and hide away while others were trying to find me and calling my name.Or sometimes I’ve been swimming (yes I have a thing for water) around in the ocean, enjoying the force of the waves. Then I get caught in a subtle riptide which starts to pull me. I don’t really struggle cause I know how to get out of it, but then I start to notice that land is getting farther and farther away. Eventually I find myself in a desperate situation and need help but I’m too exhausted to even try.By the time the vitamin Z life raft arrives and I paddle back to shore, which takes longer than trip out took, I wonder how in the world I got pulled so far out to sea. Didn’t I know I was in danger? and why didn’t I do anything about it sooner? I don’t go too far away from the water’s edge, as I don’t know what it’s like to live completely on dry land. That’s like an unknown world to me. But I hope that you can keep dry land well within sight.
Lisa – now THAT was beautiful. And I’ve been keeping on top of it. Dry land is still in sight.
I would like to tell you to embrace the darkness; but the voice in your head is definitely not your friend. Best to go with the meds.
Bruce – Yep. Especially when everything the voice says starts with “You dont deserve to…”