Sometimes, people will call something that is passed off as being in good condition but really isn’t a “lemon”. It’s an old slang term, but I kinda fell in love with it when I went through my angsty teen phase and rediscovered the Meatloaf song “Life is A Lemon (And I Want My Money Back)” in my Dad’s vinyl collection.
Today is a bad day, meaning I’m having a lot of trouble with a lot of different symptoms. It’s days like today where I laugh a little because I am a lemon. If you just looked at me, you’d think I was in great condition and never know there was so much wrong with me under the hood. I am not a well functioning automobile. I am a Ford Pinto in human form, just with less fire and more whining.
Yesterday, I got a new medication added to my regiment in an attempt to help me force my circadian cycle into a better, more practical setting. Going to bed naturally between 3 and 6 in the morning is, go figure, really bad for depression and anxiety. So we added Remeron to my nightly routine. Last night, I took it along side my Pamalor and my Klonopin at about 1am.
I woke up at 6pm, groggy at first, then overcome with almost every symptom my body is capable of throwing at me. My joints were stiff and painful from sleeping like a corpse in one position for over 17 hours straight. My heart was racing, I felt weak and shaky, lightheaded and dizzy. I could barely stand, couldn’t walk straight. I dragged my ass into the kitchen and made as “me” friendly a meal as I could, which means lots of salt, some sugar and caffeine, protein, and carbs. Sat down, then the temperature issue came in. The autonomic nervous system, in case you didn’t know, is also in charge of regulating your body temperature. So sometimes, just for fun, my body will decide it just doesn’t want to be warm anymore. Or, alternatively, it decides to show me what Hell probably feels like. Today, it chose the “sit in a freezer for fun” setting. Three blankets later, I’m not shivering anymore.
You might be thinking “so what?” as you read this, but all of this is a big deal for a couple of reasons. I’m on my own today, as Roommate is hanging out with people and Wife is working, so I was alone when I woke up overcome with all these symptoms. This is one of my biggest fears. That my illness will strike while no one is around and I won’t be strong enough to handle it alone. I did handle it, though. I was able to think through what I needed to do and found the strength to do it, despite my body working so hard to prevent me from being able to take care of myself.
I also took a very big step forward in my battle with depression. When I am struggling, one of the hardest things for me to do is reach out and tell someone, especially Wife and Roommate, that I might not be okay and I might need help. My depression will whisper to me “they have more important things than you to worry about. They have work. They have friends. You? You always have something wrong with you. They don’t want to deal with your shit.” Today, though, I was stronger than my depression, just like I was stronger than my body. I reached out, despite Roommate being with friends and Wife being at work. I told them I was having issues. I told them if I couldn’t get things under control, I was going to have to go into the hospital. I kept them updated as I struggled with my body.
So today, I am still a lemon, but I was able to be my own mechanic too. And that feels pretty damn spiffy.