Mom on Meds

Being a mom is challenging I know,
but it's getting harder and harder for me as I am not only navigating the ins and outs of two kids in the big city, but also battling within the ups and downs of my meds. I haven't quite figured out the triggers for when I feel complete exhaustion and utter misery for no apparent reason, so I just try positive self-talk: "This is just a moment, this won't last forever, don't weep and fall to the playground concrete floor right now."

Today was a bad med day. I woke up my hopeful and optimistic self, but I slowly fell into that place that I call my medicine mind. I came out of it briefly when I spoke to my mom on the phone and when I got some unexpected mail, but in general I was just dazed and tired and sad all day long. My daughter needed a nap today but never got it, so the mixture was not the best of times.

On the train at around 3:15 pm, Poopy kept straddling the tops of a bench seat...rude subway etiquette and dangerous. I counted down from 5 about 3 times, and by 1, she was seated in the correct position. By the fourth countdown she made no move to correct her behavior, so I physically removed her and she went from 0 to 6000 in less than 1 second. I had to physically restrain her on my lap by holding her down. This is getting harder and harder to do because she is getting bigger, I have not been exercising much since my head injury and my medicine also has weakness as a side effect. I struggled for several minutes and felt all the eyes turn to us and our noise (both literal and figurative).

I stayed calm but assertive (thank you Dog Whisperer), and tried to coax her out of her craziness with her Planet Earth sticker book. That did not work, so I handed that off to Pukey. As I struggled to hold her down I also worried about my purse being snatched as I did not have a good hold on that. I didn't mind her flailing and weeping and wailing, but I figured the many train-riders did, so I tried to figure out how to stop this display. Finally I remembered the first time this happened and how I got it to stop.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my Sigg bottle. I poured some water into my hand and then rubbed it over her face and hair. I did this twice until she was good and damp. She then took a breath, turned around toward me and cuddled into my shoulder quietly as I rubbed her neck. I took a sigh then and looked up to see a man who was standing nearby watching the entire 7-minute episode, and he said: "Well Done."

And he will never know how much that meant to me. He will never know what a challenging day I had had. How hard it was to put on my clothes, pack snacks, walk to the park, push the swing, negotiate the crazy man at the post office who demanded to know whose baby girl that was only to tell me that she just picked one of her raisins off the floor and put it in her mouth in a tone that suggested that she had just licked the open-wound of one afflicted with the HIV virus, to which I replied: "I am totally ok with that." That man on the train who I simply smiled at in response to his: "Well Done." will never know how much I hate the way I feel sometimes on this medicine and how much I want to stop taking it, but then how I am overpowered with fear for the possible disastrous consequences of that choice. He will never know how hard I am trying to keep it together and stay sane and provide my children with a normal life even though I don't feel normal at all anymore. And he will never know just how much I needed to hear those words today. So thank you, Man on the N train for being my cheerleader today.