The World is a Mess
Waiting on prior approval
I’ve been pretty quiet lately.
In my last podcast, I believe I explained my issue with antidepressants. I don’t want to go back and listen right now because I lack energy, and just need to write today.
If you missed it - the gist is that I am missing an enzyme that breaks down certain medicines, one being most antidepressants. So, out of 22 antidepressants, only four have the *potential* to work for me. I also have one duplicated enzyme. While certain medications won’t work, I may experience the side effects more severely, which also explains so much. One of the side effects of my last antidepressant was fatigue. Ding ding ding. I’m sure that, coupled with my tanked Vitamin D, we’re behind my inability to function and do the things for the past year.
I’ve been very loud in my head.
So much to take in. So much to process.
So much hate, violence, bloodshed, abuse, burnout, racial injustice, gender (including gender identity) injustice, hate, and more hate. And more violence. And death.
I haven’t watched the news in years. My heart can’t take it. My idealism can’t take it. My inner sense of the necessity of justice and equality for all can’t take it. It all hurts too hard. It’s all too dismal.
Three weeks ago I felt positive and hopeful for the first time in a long time. I was actually giddy when my prescriber said she was sending over my new antidepressant prescription! I felt like some relief was in sight.
My antidepressant won’t cure the world, but it may help me make it through each day.
Like everything else, I was on hold for three weeks waiting on prior approval from insurance and waiting for the pharmacy to do nothing until after i received my approval in the mail (so obviously it had been approved a day or two before I got the letter) and having to call and persuade them to check for my approval! That all just really put a damper on my excitement. And let me know, nothing is ever easy, or as expected.
Today, as I was entering the driveway to drop off my high school kid, singing along to “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People, I realized what I was singing, and quickly skipped to the next song on my driving playlist. I could NOT drop off a kid at school on that song. Then I felt like I had to explain myself and told my son that I just couldn’t drop him off at school to that song. He had a knowing look on his face.
I wonder if he thought about his second day of Jr. High.
The anxiety of dropping my kids off today got ahold of me and I kept explaining. The nervous talking thing.
He hadn’t heard about the elementary school shooting in Texas, where the police hung out outside, tasering and arresting parents who tried to go in and get their children since the police were doing nothing to stop the slaughter. They stood outside, listening to gunshots, for AN HOUR!
I almost wish I would have left him blissfully unaware of the Texas school shooting.
I had already told him to have a good day, and that I loved him. Until his second day of Jr. High, I would just tell the kids to have a good day upon their exiting of the car.
Today, I repeated “Have a good day! Love you!” And he responded, for the first time ever, with a nod and an understanding smile. I do generally tell him, and all other slow-moving kids (all 4 haha!) those things at least twice because I still haven’t grasped the fact that they don’t just jump out when we pull up as most other children do. I don’t mind repeating myself. I need those things to be the last thing they hear in my car every day.
My son’s second day of Jr. High was a close call. A fellow 7th grader brought a loaded gun to school in his backpack. He took it out during social studies, pointed it at the teacher’s head, and pulled the trigger. Fortunately, the safety was on, and the teacher was able to get the gun from the student before he could get the safety off and go through with his plan.
Until that day, I had fooled myself into thinking that my kids were safe out in the small town community school district. Every time one of the schools in the greater Quad Cities was on lockdown, I thanked God that I had kept them in the North Scott School District when we moved into Davenport.
My son’s second day of Jr. High will forever be etched in my memory. I could no longer kid myself about school safety.
My younger children were already anxiety-ridden because of all the school shooter drills they had from Kindergarten on up. I used to be able to comfort them on those drill days. Until the close call. Now, I just find it sad that these drills have become so normalized for them.
I will be picking up my new antidepressant today! Of course, since they take a couple of weeks to work, my 4-week check-in with my prescriber will be worthless. Go figure!
Stay kind, stay safe.
Love,
Kristin