Sayonara, Topamax!

I. Am. Free.
It feels good.

Enjoy it, Goat. 

This is my first weekend free of Topamax. I couldn't make it another month. Technically, they say 2-3 months to get full effect. I say fuck that if it means everything tastes weird, I have more headaches on it than off it, I can't enjoy sex, and I contemplate suicide.

That's what I said, NPH!

I went to see my doctor for a follow-up after the ear, nose, and throat person determined that my dizzy spells were likely migraine related and I should see a neurologist. Thanks for the validation. I already knew that, but apparently we had to go through all that again just to be sure. Anyway, I decided my doctor and I were going to talk this through as the last two visits felt more like how fast could he clear me out of the room instead of a consult regarding my health, which is very important to me.

You're telling me?!? At least you and I see it things the same way, NPH.

I told him how things were going. I told him I didn't think the Topamax was that great. I told him that food and drink didn't taste right and that my appetite had really dropped off. He checked my weight. He sounded surprised at the 12 pound loss in two months. He knows that I had been trying to drop the extra pounds I put on after my neck surgery, so I think he was hoping I'd be pleased. He mentioned that weight loss was a side effect. I replied, "I know. But I like my food to taste like it should, not metallic." He nodded and looked again at the computer screen.

Ok, not my best argument, Riker. Fine. 

Then I thought I should tell him that it was having the opposite effect that it's supposed to have. That seemed fairly persuasive to me. I showed him my migraine app that showed over 20 headache days (24 on the first month of Topamax) when the month prior to starting Topamax I had 5. He replied, "I don't think we should give up on it just yet. It can take awhile." I told him I knew that, but that there were other troubling issues besides the sharp increase in headaches. The increase in headaches were also driving me to rely on my Maxalt, which just breeds rebound headaches. He concurred and suggested that I start taking ibuprofen 30 minutes after taking my Maxalt. While my blood doctor has approved me for up to 8 ibuprofen a day, taking that much just to control my migraines worried me. I told my doctor that when I increased my ibuprofen after the surgery, I experienced an increase in nasty mystery bruises and nose bleeds. While I heard what he was saying and was willing to try it, it just seemed to be passing the buck--making one condition worse while supposedly making the other better. At this point, I was really proud of myself for continuing to speak up. It was also nice that he seemed to actually be listening this time.

Party on, Wayne.

Then I told him about the sexual side effects. This didn't faze him a bit. Didn't even look up at me or give indication that it was concerning. Dammit! We were connecting and I thought I was getting through. Apparently my being female means sex isn't a big deal. Maybe he didn't find the inability to climax to be an inconvenience. Perhaps he didn't think that going three weeks without even the slightest hint of desire was a big deal. Maybe he's impotent and didn't see why I should be concerned. I don't know, but I told him this was definitely not like me. I'm not one to be so completely disinterested in sex. He barely blinked.

I know, Dean. WTH?

Fine. Time to break out the big guns. I told him I don't like the way it makes me think being dead would be better than being alive. He asked if they were fleeting. I told him the first two were. They scared me, but I was able to halt the thoughts and recognize that they weren't what I wanted, and I returned to my regular activities. He reiterated that he didn't think we should stop the Topamax yet. I told him I disagreed. I told him that while maybe the flavors in food would even out once I was on the full dose long enough, I didn't enjoy the lack of sex. I didn't enjoy the burst of pain I seemed to have all the time, and it was definitely impacting my day to day life. I told him the suicidal thoughts were scaring me. He said, "I thought you said they were fleeting?" I said, "The first two. Let me tell you about the one over the weekend." I proceeded to tell him about how as my husband and I were Netflixing on the sofa, I started thinking about how much simpler everything would be if I were dead. I thought poison would be best. I ruled out a razor because while effective given my bleeding disorder, I just didn't want someone to have to clean up that mess. We don't have a gun, and I really didn't feel like trying to get one because why violate my belief system just to die. So I settled on poison. It'd be simple to find, easy to put into my tea, and I'd just drift off to sleep. I even began to think about if there was poison in the house, say in the basement with the plant and garden supplies. Maybe under the sink. Bug killer and whatnot. This one was more detailed and had elements of a plan and it scared the crap out of me. He went to his computer and looked up side effects and found that Topamax indeed had warnings of suicidal thoughts. This seemed to convince him that Topamax was not right for me. I began tapering off of it the next day.

That's right, NPH. Happy dance is on!

Thus ended my relationship with Topamax. I came home Friday and had a beer for the first time in two months. That was a damn fine beer.  I can drink again, but I do believe I need to be cautious about over doing it. No need to ruin the moderation idea I've built up. Food is starting to taste normal again. We had tacos last night that actually tasted like tacos should: delicious. My husband and I have had sex three times this weekend. I can orgasm again. I've not had a single suicidal thought. According to my migraine app I've been headache free for 4 days. Funny, I took my last Topamax 4 days ago.

Nah. I don't think it's coincidence either.

Little Reminders

Yesterday, my husband was out working on his truck. It seemed that the fuel pump had given up. He had been riding my bike to work as the weather had turned nicer and the troubleshooting he'd done on his truck had not as of yet yielded a solution to his truck's woes. While he worked, no less than three neighbors came out to help him. One man has known my hubby since hubs was a kid. The other fellow had previously loaned us his paint sprayer so we could paint our house. Nice guy. The other gentleman from across the street is older and has COPD, but he came out to help anyway. He's actually the one who figured out the relay switch was bad so instead of a whole new fuel pump, we paid less than $15 bucks for a relay. (Thanks, Ernie!) I could hear them talking and at times letting out mighty guffaws and there was even Canadian beer shared. It was one of those moments of Americana that we pride ourselves on. Neighbor helping neighbor. Coming together to help another person out. No one calling anyone a racist, a bigot, or a snowflake. Just people being kind to one another.

That's right, Goat. It was a lovely reminder of the important things in life. Moment of gratitude.

I feel like these kinds of stories need to be shared more as the political climate gets even more contentious. We've got a leader who lies, makes reference to made-up attacks abroad and at home to scare people, refuses to comply with ethics expectations that might hinder his use of the office as a money making scheme, and who has succeeded in deepening the gap between left and right in a way even Obama couldn't have done. I'm not afraid of changes--when one party takes over the leadership chnage is to be expected. However, these changes and the blatant misinformation and ethical quagmire of the current administration is mind-boggling. How are we going to endure four years of this?

Whelp. Ugly cry is one solution I guess. Been there. Done that.

I read an opinion piece about how the division in the county now is like a divorce ("The National Divorce" Aaron Loeb February 5, 2017). That the separation that started between the parties when President Clinton was impeached for a blowjob started the rift and that rift has only grown to the current state of things that leaves us with irreconcilable differences and divorce the only answer. *sigh* I can't help but point out the irony of people who remark about Clinton being an embarrassment to the office for getting a blowjob when the current Oval resident has appeared in pornos including golden shower type flicks, but ok. You wanna talk short term memory about how Bill Clinton's State of the Union speech contained almost identical policy points as the Fake Tan Commander? Well, maybe keep looking for comparisons and explain how someone reconciles the cigar shame to the pee shame while you're at it. Can we all just set aside the ridiculous Puritanical views on sex and accept that sex is part of who we are? I suppose that's a rant for another day. Anyway, that whole SoU speech comparison is a red herring as far as I'm concerned. It's something that people are clinging to in order to justify current immigration policy even though those policies were from 20 years ago and have been criticized (The Salon April 27, 2016 "Bill Clinton's Shameful Legacy on Immigration...") by those on the left for being harsh and detrimental to the family. As we learn, we adapt and change views. We liberals haven't forgotten, we've just recognized that the policy wasn't that great and should not be repeated kind of like Don't Ask, Don't Tell getting tossed out because it was not a good policy to continue. It got LGBTQ discussions and rights started again, but it was definitely not a place to stay or revisit. Also, Obama deported scores of people; the idea that leftists are soft on immigration is nonsense. They even gave him the nickname Deporter in Chief. Lack of faith in tougher immigration policy is not the issue here. Divisive rhetoric, old policy that made matters worse, and a Whitehouse that seems to legitimize White Nationalist views on immigration are. It sickens me that when I go to read opposing viewpoints on topics I am directed to Breitbart. No! That cannot represent conservative stances and conservatives should be loud in denouncing it. That's not news, but rather tabloid loudmouths who are no better than shockjocks. It's not a legitimate news source like The Hill or The Wallstreet Journal or The Economist. 

Seriously. Calling Breitbart a "conservative news source" is like calling this guy a misunderstood wayward son. Lucifer loves when we have sympathy for him.

This morning I re-read a piece by Jo Confino on Huffington Post from earlier this week entitled "A Zen Master's Advice on Coping with Trump". I've been looking for advice on how to navigate these choppy new waters I feel our country has been cast adrift in. Not being one much for praying, I thought maybe a Zen master might have insight. The article mentioned some of what I expected. Ideas like meeting anger with more anger accomplishes nothing were not a big surprise to find. I expected that. I knew that. The reminder is good though. Balancing of course came up, too; you need to balance the onslaught of information with mindfulness in order to rest and refresh. A quotation that I take to heart speaks of finding your own center rather than just reacting. I frequently see things that get my ire going, but if I can pause, breathe, consider, and then return from a place of peacefulness, I feel have a more rational discourse. The part though that will challenge all of us is the idea of he is me; there is no other. Recognizing that the person is not opposite or separate from ourselves, but rather we all possess those elements within ourselves is a tough one to accept in this situation. Trying to see parts of the Tanned Tangerine within myself is a difficult journey. It makes me queasy quite honestly. However, thinking of it as being consciously aware when we tell even white lies or speak meanly of another person or condone bullying behavior is recognizing his behavior in myself. I want to act against those things that I find abhorrent in him, I have to recognize them in myself and eradicate them within first. Goodness knows I cannot eradicate them in him. Only he can do that. 

I am a graceful crane. I am a graceful crane. I am a graceful crane dammit!

As I reflect on the kindness of our neighbors, I realize that I don't know their political views. I know that one of them is in the military, but beyond that I haven't a clue. None of them have bumperstickers or posted signs in their yards. They've truly been nothing but kind to us, and I hope we've been kind in return. I can't help but feel that if we are going to get through this incredible divide, we are going to have to look for moments like these. We're going to have to recognize that every bit of vitriol and untruth that issues forth from the mouths of our leadership needs to tempered with critical analysis. It needs to be considered and evaluated. We also need to monitor ourselves for our own muckraking and spreading of false information. Whether our neighbors are red or blue doesn't matter right now. What matters is that they came out and supported us when we needed it. We need more of that. A lot more.

Like a moose swimming in a deep lake, I shall persist.

Where Has My Humor Gone

I may be losing my sense of humor.

I feel ya, Bert.

I used to enjoy political satire. When I worked overnights, I tuned in to Comedy Central and watched Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert among others. Saturday Night Live's Weekend Update was my favorite segment of the evening. Now though, I find little to laugh at. I am tense. I am worried. I don't think belittling jokes or calling people names is helping the situation.

I loved this one in particular.

A friend of mine posted a t-shirt yesterday about "America's Fragile Snowflakes". I posted a comment asking if she really found it funny. She did. She's bought into the PC is evil narrative. She believes that Millennials and safe spaces are ridiculous. She posted a clip from Milo Yiannopoulos' page of a stand-up about being offended and found it humorous. I got a knot in my stomach. This saddens me, so I told her so. She didn't comment back or ask me why I felt that way, so I dropped it. But it eats at me. If the snowflake is "just a joke," I don't get it. It seems to me like a way to shut down conversations. It's a way to diminish the other side's argument so you don't have to listen to what they have to say. It's a direct barb directed at people like me, and she--a person who is a self-described empath--doesn't seem to be bothered at all by this. But it's all just online, so it's no big right? Toughen up and stop being a whiny liberal. You call the conservatives bigots, racists, and misogynists, so just take a dose of your own medicine. Maybe I'm assuming too much in her particular case, but I have read those ideas on other sites and in other articles from other mouths who also use terms like snowflake to scorn the progressive ideals. It troubles me greatly to hear them from someone who I have bonded with over Dr. Who, and camping, and witchy things, and absurd British comedies.

I'm confused, too, David. 

Zooming out to a larger scope, here's the thing: I call Trump those things because he has been caught on record more than once saying hateful, awful things that should disturb decent, empathetic people. Yet, he gets a pass. He says blatant misogynistic comments about sexual assault and "it's just locker room talk". He makes fun of a disabled person, lies about it, and people look the other way. He institutes a ban on Muslims--and it is a ban; let's not sugarcoat it--based on a lie about a massacre that didn't happen--don't you dare try and call it anything other than a lie--and he's heralded for it. Yes, anyone who is comfortable and accepts these things is therefore comfortable with misogyny, bigotry, and racism. I am not. Calling people who stand against his rhetoric and speak up for those whose voices are being silenced or marginalized snowflakes is not only insulting, it is simply a snide way of deepening an already deeply divided and hurting public. That hurt should make an empath weep.

Even Arnold gets it.

I read several articles this morning and among them were many opposing viewpoints. Some contained perspectives from Trump supporters and opinions of why people accept the lies and others criticized the throwing about the term fascist and Hitler when referring to Trump. I think it's important to maintain some balance and I do teach my students to consider the opposing viewpoints. I should practice what I preach, right? In one blog, it mentioned we shouldn't call our presidents Hitler when we don't agree with them because we might just miss the real thing when it comes along. OK, I get that--it's the crying wolf argument; however, I do think watching cautiously and holding Trump accountable for his disdain of checks-balances is important. He may not have walked into office with his own army like Hitler did, but he is upholding a Neo-Nazi in a key position of power. That's cause enough for concern. That is not normal and should not happen. Besides, this was a blog post, and according to Politifact, bloggers have a nasty tendency to rate "pants on fire" with their truthiness. While I can consider his points, his facts must be met with skepticism if not properly cited and vetted because to be clear: alternative facts are just lies.

Yes, Point of Order Goat, I realize that this is a blog, but I never claimed to be anything more than that. This is my personal blog. Period.

I read another article that reported on how Trump is not a fascist, but a champion of the forgotten millions. It's on The Guardian if you're interested. It mentioned how he got in the Oval because the voters didn't want an elitist. Umm....here's the thing about that. He may not be career politics nor hereditary politician like Clinton or Bush, but he is damn sure an elite. To think otherwise is just ridiculous. He's also positioned nothing but elites in his cabinet. Business elites. He's not even a successful business elite. He's declared bankruptcy and been sued for crying out loud! Fraud. Hello? Anyone remember that little tidbit? If this is "draining the swamp," it's not going to make things better for those "forgotten millions." I do not doubt that Trump knows how to play the social media game and he seems to understand how to play the public in the era of reality TV, but now he's got his tiny hands on the Presidential Seal. He can take the progress that's been made and ruin it for everyone. Anyone who thinks otherwise is fooling themselves. Believe it or not, the economy recovered and grew with Obama. With Trump, we easily could face another disaster especially now that Dodd-Frank is rolled-back.

Yup, that's kind of the way the argument goes. Up: down, right:left, in:out...

Other viewpoints criticized the Women's March as pointless and feeble and unnecessary. One person even said it was nothing more than a "mommy's-liberal-baby snowflakes that are used to having their way. It's like your spoiled kid not used to being told no." That's from a Guardian article "'I love Trump. He's doing what he said.' President's supporters keep the faith." Whelp, here's the thing about that. Not all who marched were mommys. Not all who marched were liberal. I think people who dismiss the Women's March like this didn't read the march's focus statement. In that statement, it mentioned that it was for not only women's rights, but for racial equality, labor equality, healthcare access, science acceptance, disability advocacy, and sexual identity. It was a unifying march. It was so much more than just gender equality. Furthermore, while many have said that women have equal status and can get what they want, "men aren't standing in their way" (same article) if you believe that it's ok to grab a woman by the pussy because hey! who hasn't? Then that's not equality. (Again, that's from the same article.) Additionally, the people who marched knew what was coming. The upheaval that has ensued since Trump took the helm shows that the march was needed. While a lot of progress in human rights has been made, Trump has proven how easily those rights can be erased. The global gag rule is one. The removal of Environmental Protection Agency regulations is another. The upcoming changes with  union busting is another. Calling for military action against protesters and demonstrations? Jesus people! How are you not outraged by what is happening to your fellow human beings?

Pretty much me every time I read something in the news.

I have no humor about this. I crack jokes, but they are dark. They are wry and mostly sardonic. I've decided that perhaps I need to take at least one day of the week away from social media for my own sanity. 30 minutes before bed is not enough. I downloaded apps for my main news sources onto my phone, so I can get my information without the spin from my friends--either liberal or conservative or somewhere in between. I need to be informed and I need to be sure to be balanced, but I also need to make myself do other things, too. I keep reminding myself to go high as Michelle Obama said. It's difficult sometimes. Really difficult. This snowflake knows her mind though and won't trade her empathy for ridicule of her friends or strangers. I will continue to seek the high road and the common ground.

Except for Trump. He is still the Cheeto in Chief. I'm rather Zen about that choice.

Pondering the Progress

Anyone out there still keeping up with those pesky New Year's resolutions? Here we are at the end of January, so for those of us on this calendar cycle, that's the end of the first month for the new year. For some on the Chinese New Year, the cycle is just getting started. For me though, it's time to reflect and see how things are going.

Go to the mountains to reflect they said. Know what? It's friggin' cold in the mountains in January.

I'm rocking the eat more vegetables and fruits goal. No. Really. I am. I've been making smoothies a few mornings a week, so that's helping. It's easy to throw in some spinach or kale along with berries and an avocado and a banana and hit liquefy. Although, I am wondering if perhaps I need to try stopping the Greek yogurt. I like the extra protein and the zing from the yogurt as well as the healthy fat, but the added dairy in my diet may be contributing to the upshot of migraines. I dunno for sure. I've never made the connection between dairy and migraine, but it's a possibility. Last time I checked my migraine app, I was at 21 pain days. That's a lot. Too many. Ridiculously high actually, so I'll be tweaking my recipe I guess. I'm getting a healthy dose of good fat from the avocado, so as long as that stupid, stupid Tangerine Tyrant in Chief backs down from his stupid, stupid plan to make us pay more for Mexican imports to support a stupid, stupid fence that won't do a godsdamned thing about illegal immigrants along our southern border, I should be good there. Avocados are a really good source of fats and and easy way to get my 5 a day in. I fucking love avocados. I also eat more carrots and apples etc. at lunch. I'm really kicking tail on the whole produce thing.

I read somewhere that it takes 4-5 years for an avocado tree to produce fruit. Even if we somehow managed to get a tree going inside, we'd have a long wait...

Cutting my social media consumption. Well...ahem *cue crickets. I'm not doing as well with this one. I like getting my news source linked together in my newsfeed through Facebook. I have some reliable news sources that tRumpCheeto doesn't seem to hold in terror (Thank you Guardian and Reuters and Slate and BBC) and I like having them all in one place. It's been a helluva a week. I admit. It's really been that proverbial train wreck that you can't look away from. I'm watching closely and fighting in any way I can, and my newsfeed as well as my activist friends are my source of inspiration and activism. I was fairly good at the start of the month about not clicking in right before bed, but I've been bad lately. I need to do better. I will do better. I can be efficient at my consumption and still be part of the resistance. I feel an obligation to be informed right now because of all the mayhem Donald the Despot wants to create. 30 minutes before bed though, no more. Gotta cut that connection 30 minutes before sleepy time.

Maybe if this owl had sound, I could rig it to go off if I tried to log onto my phone before bed and it'd startle me enough to stop me like squirting a cat with a water bottle. 

Oh who am I kidding? That's too much work.

Taking action financially. Well, I did meet with a guy who got me on the path for student loan forgiveness. I haven't received the paperwork back from HR though. I am hoping as long as it gets filed it will still be good. It's one of those get it filed before Asshat in the Whitehouse cancels the program kind of situations. I also get to do the taxes today, so after that, I will move some money into those online savings accounts to see which ones perform better. Baby steps. I haven't gone back to check on the crowdfunding site, but I will. I want to do taxes and set up the accounts first.
As for my Wiccan/pagan goal of speaking up for what I believe in, I do believe I am doing better about being authentic in that regard. I saw something a friend posted about how when you are silent about issues that are dear to you, you come off as being insincere rather than authentic. It feels that way , too. I don't want to be insincere. I don't want to be a dick either, but I think being silent and just scrolling past blatant falsehoods and statements that do nothing more than propagate discord and division is lazy. It's cowardly. Now more than ever, I can't do that. I used to think it was ok because what was the point? It was just Facebook. WTF ever. Social media is proving to be a useful tool. Just look at the rogue park rangers.  I need to speak up; otherwise I'm not being my authentic self. I need to be living my personal truth. It's been too long. With all the crap that the POrangeTUS is pulling, I can't allow people to think this is business as usual. It's not. Nothing that man has done is business as usual. I honestly can't believe he's where he is right now, but I will do all I can as a citizen to resist and to speak for the values of America that I hold dear. That means speaking up when I see something that denigrates women, LGBTQ, immigrants, the poor, the disabled, people of color, science, unions, and education. Silence means acceptance.

I WILL NOT BE SILENT!

That's where I'm at. Good on veggies, trying to resist social media, but my resistance is getting in the way, mediocre on finance, and getting stronger on voice. Despite the havoc being wrought in Washington, some really wonderful things are happening in my life. Some rather challenging things, too. However, having that authentic center guiding me--that personal conviction and courage to confront injustice when I can--gives me a sense of purpose I haven't felt in a while.

Imbolc is coming. I'm ready for the light.

No Pink, No Pussy Hat, Just Marching

"Cock-sucking bitches!"
Some small-minded middle-aged man yelled that out his window at at me yesterday as I marched with about 9, 999 other Montanans around our state's Capitol. Luckily, that was the extent of the negativity hurled. I figured, if that was the best the opposition had to spew, we were going to be just fine.

Dude, that's all you got? 

I marched along with the thousands of other women across the globe yesterday to  draw attention to the causes of women everywhere. Women's rights are human rights. Women need access to appropriate healthcare including safe abortions unfettered by interfering or misinformed governmental hands. Women deserve equal pay for equal work. Women need paid family leave to take care of family because guess what? They are the ones who disproportionately care for loved ones. They need access to clean water to care for families. They need to live free from violence against their bodies. They need to live where they can raise their families without fear of violence. The LGBTQ community rights are human rights. In an era where elitism, privilege, and sexism reside in power, we marched to remind those everywhere that we exist and we will not be silent.
As I looked around at all the people gathered in my state's Capitol, I was astonished. Early estimates were at 5, 000 intending to march. However, that number doubled as we started marching. 10, 000. That's a lot of people for this introvert to fathom. It was overwhelming really to consider how many people came out to support. It was reassuring. It was hopeful to see. It gave me a sense of strength and solidarity in a time when I needed it desperately.

Do you know this reference? Read your Atwood.

One aspect that I did not really spend much time on as part of my march was a direct opposition to Trump as president. I've never not accepted a president of the opposite party before. Even when Gore lost, I didn't flat out denounce Bush. I've grumbled and groused, but I've never looked at the opposite party candidate and outright thought, "What the hell? You didn't get there legitimately. You got there by underhanded foreign interference and we need to take you out before more damage is done." Since that apparently is not possible, my marching became not so much a protest of him and his presidency as it was a show of strength and willingness to stand and fight against any kind of abuse of power he tries to shove down our gullet. He talks a lot of talk and then backtracks on it later. Putting Hillary in prison and then not doing it for example. I'm hoping that by seeing how many people around the world support the agenda set out by the Women's March, he'll rethink some of his off the cuff and blatantly offensive rhetoric. But who knows. You never really know what the hell the man is going to do or say or Tweet.

Um...Oh? What? 

A lot has been written and shouted about how Trump is or is not "my president". I've considered this a lot as well. I've even nerded out on it and parsed it down to grammar. My is a possessive pronoun. It implies ownership of an object as in my book. Since humans should not be objects of possession, I cannot own nor possess Trump as my president. However, we do refer to family members as my husband or my niece. So possessive pronouns do suggest some sort of close familial reference. Again though, that cannot refer to Trump as no such close familial relationship exists. As no such condition exists between Trump and myself, I therefore cannot claim that he is my president. He may have been sworn in and currently reside in the White House, but I cannot claim ownership nor a close relationship. With Obama, it was different. I did vote for him. As I watched him and developed a respect for his dignity and diplomacy,  I felt an affinity for him. I still don't recall referring to him much as my president though. Our president or the president, yes. I'm not certain about my though. My  is personal whereas our is more of a collective, possessive pronoun. I can't seem to bring myself to get that close to Trump though. So far, he's done nothing to earn my allegiance, so he gets nothing other than an article: the. After all, he did take the oath. He is the president.

That had to  happen.

Next time I march in January though, I'll remember to bring a broad brimmed yet warm winter hat. Silly me. I don't spend long periods of time outside in January much in Montana. I don't ski or snowboard, so I didn't think much about the whole sunlight avoiding thing like I do in summertime. Still need to pay attention to lupus prevention even in winter months. Oops. Bad lupie. I don't suppose my fellow marchers noticed, but I was ducking behind the shadows of their signs to stay out of direct sunlight. Lupus survival tips: find the person with the really big sign and march behind them.

Sometimes, the zinc oxide is not enough...

Comfortably Authentic

A friend of mine recently shared a story from her former workplace. Apparently her upper level boss--the man one level higher than her direct manager--actually approached to inquire if she dyed her hair. Apparently it annoyed him when women with dark hair didn't dye their gray hairs. Somehow seeing the gray through the otherwise dark field of brown or black offended him and caused him distress and he felt compelled to share this with my friend...in the office...during their initial meeting. She lives in Burbank mind you and she works in the film industry so there's no small connection or pressure to conform and obey to beauty standards. But just wow!  I had to step back for a second and consider where the hell that guy got off thinking this was ok or necessary.

I didn't think so either, Loki.

I've been asking myself that a lot lately. Whether something is ok or necessary or kind before posting or saying it aloud to someone. In essence, I've been trying to boil things down to authenticity. What is authentic to me and my beliefs? If it is authentic to me, then it is real. It is genuine. It is necessary and kind and absolutely beautiful in my core way of life. I think grey hairs are beautiful and authentic in life and if my friend's ex-boss can't handle the authenticity, he can GTFO. I can not be silent when violations to those core beliefs occur. Part of recognizing my authenticity is also calling out people who insult those pieces of my authentic self. Lately, parts of my authentic self keep revealing themselves.

Wow. Dragons would be totally rad. Make things much easier. Wish dragons were part of my authentic self.

We started reading Handmaid's Tale in senior English. At the start, one of my seniors kept commenting on how old Margaret Atwood is. I finally cut him off and countered that I think he needs to work on his ageism comments because she is a vital, intelligent, and vibrant woman who has earned every gray hair on her head. Just because she is now in her 70's does not mean she has nothing to teach us. Quite the contrary. Her works are gaining in relevance as evidenced by the recent adaptation of HmT by Hulu and the articles I've seen on HuffPo and other news sites in the last year alone. I pulled one up from the last week just to drive the point home. I couldn't allow my seniors, who are going into the world in a matter of months, to think it's ok to look at senior citizens that way.

Actually, I typed in Margaret Atwood, not Mary Margaret, but hey! That works.

Also last week in another class, one student raised his voice and asked another student if his girlfriend was a slut. The young man had the good sense to reply that his girlfriend was indeed not a slut.  However, I still had to intervene as this kind of language is not acceptable for a classroom. The young man who defended his girlfriend accepted my correction and agreed that he should not use such terminology to refer to women ever. However the other young man retorted  loudly, "Am I the only one getting talked to about this?" Wow. Just wow. Not necessary. Not kind. I assured him as I do all students that whenever I speak to one about a disciplinary issue, I won't discuss the discipline of other students, but that the kind of language he used would never be tolerated by any student in class as it was blatantly disrespectful. My authentic self could not sit by and allow a group of 17 year olds to think it's ok to talk that way about women.

Yeah, that about covers it.

Then, this weekend I posted a video of what actually happens during an abortion. I don't know how many people will actually pause to watch it. I found it quite informative. Most of it I knew, but I found the video to be thorough and enlightening as well objective. It countered a lot of the misinformation and stayed on point with only facts. I'm sure those who want to know will watch and those who don't, won't. That's the beauty of social media. If you don't want to learn, you can choose to remain ignorant of the information and just blissfully continue to scroll down the newsfeed. However, I struggled as to whether I should post it or not.  If I was to be my authentic self, I needed to post it. People need to know the truth about what abortion is and what it is is not. I feel strongly in this age of misinformation and in the wake of that stupid fabricated videotape that was used against Planned Parenthood that people need to understand why abortion is necessary. They don't have to like it. They don't have to get one. But they sure as hell need to keep it legal for women everywhere. When it comes to whether or not I am being true to my authentic self, posting that video was an opportunity for me to get the truth out there. If they take the opportunity, that's up to them. I created an opportunity based on my authentic self.

Yes, Penguin. How true indeed.

Backtracking a smidge, Wednesday night I did something I rarely do. I went out. That's not the authentic part I suppose. A friend invited me to a dedication circle. She has almost completed her study of healing arts and she participates in a goddess circle--essentially a Wiccan coven of a fashion. I'm solitary, but she invited me for this dedication and invited me for others should I be interested. I am rather, although the smudging was a bit much. Tough to breathe honestly. However, it was welcoming, and refreshing, and lovely to be a part of a group gathered for this purpose. Even though I am very solitary and really not much of a believer in magic, I do enjoy ritual and a dedication to using my voice was a good thing. Besides, being witness for my friend's dedication was important I thought It felt very authentic to state that in front of people I know only a little-- some not at all. I felt authentic. Real. Genuine. Without artifice. It felt good.

Yea me!

I put off writing this post for a day because I wasn't quite sure how to string all these ideas together. I'm not entirely sure I did a coherent job of it. The fact is, I finally chopped my hair to the length I've always wanted: super short pixie. I stopped dying my hair and now the gray shows through. I wear my glasses more and mascara less. I've stopped wearing nail polish as much. I wear clothes that I like and that are comfortable. I wear make up if I feel like it, but it's mostly just powder to control the shine or a blemish. I'm 42 years old and I feel like I'm finally starting to figure out who my authentic self is. She's a bit more vocal, too.

This moose makes no apologies either.

Dear Topamax

Dear Topamax,

We've been together now for three weeks. We're taking our relationship to the next level tomorrow. It's the final stage in our partnership and I have to say it's been a rocky ride. I've stuck with you because of the promises and the possibilities. I hope that my dedication and belief in you haven't been misplaced. In the last three weeks I have endured a lot from you without a lot of reciprocal benefit. As we approach the one month mark, I hope that changes.

Goat's got some expectations that haven't been met.

I actually found the not drinking over the holidays easier than I thought it would be. The warning about not drinking while being with you was really effective. Black outs? Sloppy drunk after one glass of wine? No thanks! Your messing with my brains made it a bit easier too honestly. The scrambling in my grey matter made the resistance to alcoholic spirits a bit gentler. Since I already had trouble finding words, speaking without slurring my words, and remembering what I was doing, alcohol seemed redundant. Superfluous really. I did desire the taste of the Cabernet at Christmas (my favorite non-migraine inducing red wine) and I did really want a beer after school Friday night, but you know what? Not drinking for three weeks has helped me to rule out alcohol as a trigger for my migraines. I do still have an awful lot of migraine days on my diary for the last month, so I guess thanks for helping me rule out alcohol at least.

Hermione says you need to work harder, though. She's right.

You know, you're awfully tough on the digestive tract. Between the decreased appetite and the tummy rumbles and the frequent need to have a bowel movement as well as the increase in gassy expulsions, it's almost like lactose intolerance all over again...except I take my dairy pills and I don't eat a lot of dairy anything. While I do appreciate finally losing that stubborn 7-10 pounds I gained and couldn't lose after my neck surgery, I'm rather fed up with the knot in my belly. Seriously. Can you ease up on my gut maybe? I'm doing everything right by you, so can you cut me some slack on at least the poo and the farts? That'd be helpful. I'd really appreciate it. It's embarrassing, really.

My intestines have had about all they can take...

The one I was not in any way bargaining for though was the marked decrease in my libido. No one mentioned that when your name came up in regards to my migraine management. No one said boo even though sexual side effects were why I stopped taking anti-anxiety meds. Here we are three weeks into this relationship and I am wondering why I have no interest in kicking boots with my loving and incredibly patient husband only to scroll through to find a lesser known side effect of decreased sex drive. Lovely. Did you really need to go there? The fogginess, the sleepiness, the moodiness, the memory loss, the blurred vision, the gut problems, the tingly scalp, the numb face, the thick tongue, the dry eye, the inflamed gums, the numb limbs, and all the other side effects weren't enough for you? You had to go there. You had to. Fuck you. Since I don't get to enjoy it, you might as well get a good ol' fucking out of it. A riotous and rambunctious, all day long until you're chapped and can't walk right fucking. Enjoy.

You know what I like about this one? Such style. And a smile.

My migraine diary lists 15 days of migraine headaches since we started seeing each other. Everything I read tells me that after a month, I should start to experience some of your good qualities. I also understand that somewhere between 1-3 months, not only should I begin to experience a decrease in migraine activity, I can expect a sharp decrease if not a halt to all negative side effects. I hope that's true. I want to believe in you, Topamax.

But I'm putting you on notice. I'm watching you very closely.