My So-Called Medicated Life (revised)

Way back in September I wrote down my medication "recipe". It has slightly changed since then:

300mg of Wellbutrin
40mg of Celexa
3mg Klonopin

What difference does 1mg of Klonopin a day make? Enough. Enough for what? Enough to keep my impulsivity in check... sort of.

A friend recently attributed my progress to the fact that I take medication (I have Panic Disorder). I didn't let him get away with it because it simply ain't so. Medication keeps the symptoms at bay but it's still up to me to be healthy. There were times in the past, especially when my son was in Iraq, that medication didn't make that big of difference emotionally. It didn't keep me from being angry at everything and everyone.

Would I be "sick" without them? Probably but I'm not even considering that option. Freedom from symptoms means I can be a part of the Moment instead of wondering if I am about to faint! It also means that I can take my time; my mind isn't racing a thousand miles a minute. Oh, it still races sometimes, but now I have the power to at least slow things down, re-group, and move ahead.

That desire to move ahead is what has changed me. It's about shedding old ways, leaving negative crap behind and searching for the best possible outcome to each situation. You can't buy that in a bottle.


Peace, Denise

Finding Tommy G.

I haven't written in awhile because my thoughts have been on a loop of sorts; the issue, "What is Love?", has so so many answers that I've just been spinning in place with it. It's nice then, when something or someone knocks me off that loop, into Reality, with "answers" that make sense.

Thank you, Serendipity, for letting me find Tommy G.

My primary circle of friends exists in a bar; median age maybe 55. It's not the healthiest choice of social activity but... too late. I already love these guys. And I know they love me. We are a unique cast of characters and that's what makes it all so special.

Tommy G. is a character and he'd be the first to say so. Seriously. The man has a schtick... the first thing he said to me was, "What part of Brooklyn are you from? Are you new on the set?" It's a test I suspect and I passed. I thought he was a riot and still do.

Well, we hadn't seen him for almost 6 months. We were just talking about him the Friday before I found him. We naturally presumed that he had passed because we knew he had health issues. We realized that we had no real way of finding out because if he had, we missed the obit.

This First Friday I was walking to our bar when I spotted Tommy G. eating at a diner. I squealed and ran in. The owner was like, "hey who you chasin'?" because it was obvious I was makin' a beeline for the man.

This was his first time out since having a triple bypass 5 months earlier. He said the diner owner told him he had been checking the obits but there are too many "Gallaghers" to know for sure. So we weren't the only ones that thought the worst.

I went ahead to our bar, put down a stool to save for him, and waited. Naturally, everyone asked who it was for but I wouldn't say.

When he got there, he almost looked like he wanted to turn and leave. But I walked him to his seat and bought him a Snapple. It was so cool to see the genuine, happy surprise in everyone's face when they saw him. You can't fake that shit.

That's the kind of Love I like the most.