MELTDOWN!

Yesterday I crashed, loudly and publicly. Crying turned to weeping, weeping turned to sobbing in private which turned to wailing in public in the parking lot at Birdy's veterinarian.  At one moment I was crouching on the floor of my living room, fists clenched, chest heaving, gut tight as the grief and sorrow ripped through me.  It was a terrible, horrible, very bad day.  Until the end.

Winston and I on May 5

 It started when I went to my office and couldn't get logged in to the network no matter what I tried.  Or perhaps it started last Thursday when I abandoned the herb again.  Or perhaps it started when a really great day last week was followed by four days of observable decline.

    The great day?  We watched two plays on television:  Frankenstein from the National Theatre with Benedict Cumberbatch as the Monster followed by the Newman-Taylor-Ives version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof on TCM and then he ate a big dinner and we actually had conversations.  The next day was overcast and he spent most of it in bed, same the following day.  He was also moving much more slowly. The happiness of the good day threw into stark contrast the sadness of the following days.  He is moving so much more slowly.  He forgot to make himself breakfast the past two days (I made it for him -- cereal and a banana).  He sometimes stares at me blankly when I talk to him.  Conversations are a challenge.

     The great day was the same day I went off weed.  My doc has prescribed gabapentin to get me through the withdrawal period and while it's incredibly helpful in dealing with the physical symptoms, it's not as good on the anxiety.  And if I'm honest, there were other physical issues that were part of the meltdown -- I hadn't had breakfast yet, hadn't taken my antidepressant, and was full of coffee.

     And then there was a clusterfuck of little disappointments starting with not being able to log into my office wifi.  And I actually started crying in my office.  The crying turned to sobbing.  The sobbing turned to actual wailing as I felt the built-up sorrow sweeping through me.  Then grief hijacked my brain.

     When I got home from the Haven, I took a picture of my sad face and posted it as my Facebook profile picture.  I was actually concerned about aesthetics when I used Photo Booth to snap a picture of myself and the little dog several times, making sure to let natural light from catch the trail of my tears.  That was my call for help, a call that was answered by many friends on Facebook who sent me virtual hugs and asked what they could do to help me.  Unfortunately, a few thought that the sad picture was an indication of my big dog Birdy's death!  Weird.  So I had to end that and posted a picture of the three of us -- Birdy, Winston, and me -- at the end of the day.

    So -- a rough day ended as well as can be expected in these times.

I'll leave you with Macbeth's famous understatement.