Blah...

My son is becoming too old; it is literally tearing my into pieces.

I feel claustrophobic right now living in this little, sports obsessed  town.  If had blond hair, big boobs, and a dumber mentality, I would be OK, but this is not the case.

I am obsessed with this blog, though the writer no longer writes it.  I have always wanted to be a carny.  According to the writer of this blog, and I believe him, I never woulda made it.  I am too much of a princess and I have a super hard time taking shit.  Anyway...here is the blog: http://diary-of-a-carny.blogspot.com/

Went to a corn maze today with my family.  I am having a hard time recognizing it is autumn.  I am sick on kettle corn.  The boy is playing his new football video game.  The old man just went in for a nap.  I need to get more serious about my writing.  But there is so much else to do, too.

Night Blogland.

Reading in 2011

This is an ongoing list that I try to edit at least once a week.  I should try to date what I 've read, when I have read it.  I should also be working to keep some sort of reading journal.  I need to read like a writer and write like a reader.  This is something I told those fifth graders.  How Ralph Fletcher o me. It is raining today (Oct. 2, 2011) and I am writing, reading, and watching Mr. Z (my middle school aged son) and the old man watch the games.  They are watching, snoozing on the island coach pillows bed n the middle of the floor while I have the coach. Our cat, our adorable Miss Meow Meow is walking back and forth, trudging, on the wicker sofa, now stripped of its cushions, as they are serving to pillow, to snuggle the men.   I have to pee.  I am lazy.  I have clothes rotting with mildew at my house.  I have a borderline rapid landlord right now who I am ignoring.  I have not looked at my email in nearly a week now.  I am falling down into a silly tangent, a spiral of boringness.  Back to my list.  The world is peaceful.  Here is a singular, beautiful idea, and it is a notion that allows me to survive in this world:  

There is always something else to read.  

Here's what I've read, online books, Internet blogs, magazines, newspapers, etc. aside.  Well, this is what I can remember.  Usually, I have read twice as much.  I need to get offline and get back into the literary world, as I feel like I am wasting my life.  But maybe this is a good thing.  Perhaps reading what I want to read is better than reading at books, forcing myself through classics like I did in my twenties.  Life is way too short to read dull fucking Willa Cather, and Sarah fucking Orne Jewett for fuck sake's.   I do need to go to the library to see what I actually checked out this year.  I just have a horrible memory in this way, I truly cannot remember what I've read.  I need to become a less passive reader, as it is really all *slippping* a way..

Jennifer Weiner books of 2011:
(I cannot help myself; I recognize that she is the epitome of silly chick lit.  And--yes, yes!--I also       realize that women are not marshmallow peeps!)
Fly Away Home
Goodnight Nobody
The Came You
The Guy Not Taken (1/3 of the book, had to put it down.. Was she serious with this shit?  Wow. )
(3)


Jennifer Egan books, all of them:
The Invisible Circus
The Keep (Oct. 2011)
Emerald City
A Visit from the Goon Squad (Spring, 2011)
Look at Me (Sept. 2011)
(5)


The Two Fucking Amazing Books by Elissa Schappell:
Use Me (Oct. 2011)
Blueprints for Better Girls (Oct. 2011)
(2)


Maybe the best book I've read thus far:
Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann (Spring 2011)
(1)

Alice Hoffman, whatever she wrote this year...
The Red Garden (Spring 2011)
(1)


And here are the rest:

• Sarah's Key, Tatianna (?) Idiotfuck (So fucking lame.) (Summer)
• Bossypants, Tina Fey (Tina, You're funny almost all the time, but when you're not, yuck!) (Summer)
• Olive Kitteridge, Elizabeth Strout (Spring, 2011)
• Tiger, Tiger, Margaux Fragoso (Summer 2011)
• Gossip of the Starlings, Nina De Gramont
• Family History, Dani Shapiro (Winter, maybe February?)
• Freedom, Franzen (Jan. 2011)
• Her Last Death, Suasan
• Year of Wonders, Geraldine Brooks
• Falling in Love with Natassia, Anna Monardo
• The Help, Katheryn Stockett (July 2011)
• Down and Out in Murder Mile, Tony O'Neill (Winter 2011, January, February or March))
• A Life Gone... , Wayne from the Internet (memoir-y book by rehab surviver...)
• The Bitch Posse, Martha O'Connor (10/11)
• The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins (10/11)
• Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins(10/11)
• Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins (Plan to read tomorrow!) I actually have not read this yet (10/11)
• The Sisters Brothers, Patrick DeWitt (Fall 2011) (almost all read)
• Swim Back to Me, Ann Packer (October, 2011)
• Josie and Jack, Kelly Braffet (October, 2011)

(20)

(Oct. 8, 2011: 32 total)

October 8, 2011: I am reading Catching Fire and The Sisters Brothers this weekend, but I am not sure that I will finish both.  I have to have the latter read by the end of next week... Bt I am so much more compelled to read the first, as that series is even more amazing than ppl say it is.  I am blown away that those adorable, little fifth graders were reading it!  No wonder they were whipping through all their work to get to the other said... The side of freedom, when you can read what you want!  At this point it looks as though I am reading 2.7 books a month.  My goal is four books a month.  I think my time spent online, reading blogs, short stories and the like dips into my time a great deal. Of course, if I am reading, then, this should be great, it means I am still reading, right?  Bu tI like the idea of reading full novels. And I generally read literary fiction, um, Jennifer Weiner aside (though Amazon begs to differ from me on this... I dunno, depends on how liberal I am feeling about judging literature...) O get to me goal, I need o get up to forty books by the end of this month.  This means I need to read thirteen books in the next three weeks and two days; this is twenty-three days.  Almost one book per two days.  I want to enjoy what I am reading, and I want to read less passively.  Fuck, I think I might be getting  migraine.  i wonder if it is light, chocolate, yelling at Mike, being irritated with Mr. Z my adorable, but spoiled little dude.  Fuck if I know. Maybe it is the television? 

• I am in the middle of my old undergrad professor's book about teaching writing, the one that focusses on digression and even discusses The Catcher in the Rye (Note: the old man and Mr. Z are planning on reading the latter together)

What I Abandoned:
The Gary Paulsen, Alaska Book (Whatever it was fucking called, Winterdance or some shit...)

Black and White, Dani Shapiro (I hate her writing voice and feel that if I met her, she'd own Talbots clothing and treat me like I was poor white trash.  She irritates me.  Whatever.)


What I Started and Think I May Return To:
Crazy Town: Money, Marriage, Meth
The Leftovers, Tom Perotta
Twilight of the Superheroes, D. Eisenberg
The Collected Short Stories of Deborah Eisenberg
The Psychopath Test: A Journey Through...
Gone with the Wind
Tender is the Night

Miss Peregrine's Home for...


I also read countless short stories that are the free samples from acclaimed literary magazines, like Tin House.  Sometimes I read not so acclaimed lit mags, some of which are online only, like that silly noir shit that I do not even like, it just interests me for some reason.  This time seems wasted, as it is only a way to deaden my senses; it is not a way to actively figure the world out in any way.

Here is what is in "the pile":
Wonderstruck, Brian Selznick
The Sisters Brothers, Patrick DeWitt
That Was Then, This is Now, S.E Hinton
The Outsiders, S.E. Hinton
The Room, Emma Donahue  Abandoned.
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Aimee Bender  Abandoned, boring...
Peyton Place and A Return to Peyton Place, Grace Metalious (check spelling)


What I am looking forward to...

• The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugines
• The New Alice Hoffman novel
• The new book of short stories (9/11) by Melanie Rae Thon--On second though, she is almost too lyrical for my current taste.

I feel like I read constantly, as in: all. the. time.  It is weird then, that I seem to be averaging less than three books monthly.  Part of this is that I watch way, way too much television.  Also, I read many , many short stories that are soon forgotten.  I need to start tracking these, too. Perhaps I should just list them by author, as I often read several by the same author and then get stuffed with tht author.  My list would look like: SHORT STORIES BY AUTHOR: Eagan, Schappell, Boggs,m whoever, yep, her him, etc. I dunno.  How do I account for the articles, too? For example, I am trying to find everything that Elissa Scappell has written, and some of her stuff is true; it is an essay or article.  This would not count.  I should track it all, right?  Again, dunno.

Here we go.  Here are the short stories found online:

• Boggs chick who teaches English at the fancy (?) private school
• Find the many, many others, like the story written by the amateur about h e TA who disappears
• The Alaskan writer, Melinda Moustakis (found in the Alaskan Quarterly and in Storyglossia)

Also, I should try to include an entry on each piece that has affected me.  For example, for the Egan novel, the Goon book, I should include the letter/email I never sent to my stepfather.  Maybe I should include the letter Mom sent me after ignoring me for weeks about how she identified with the shame memories.  However, the shame memories, what she said, that could have been from just reading the reviews.  My mother is too stupid to really read anything unless it is for her book group, filled with teachers who are the anti intellectual, or a western or some fucking thing.  I read so many more books before the Internet.  But I will say this:  I read a lot of stupid books back then, too.   Now that I get my stupid fix from the Internet, maybe the quality of book I read is better?  I dunno.  Really, who am I kidding?  I read amazing stuff in college, Bahktin, Rabelais (well, I pretended to read Rabelais, whatever. I read lit fiction now, but nothing that is too challenging.  I should challenge myself more, read more Virginia Woolf or read at least one thing by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I have never, ever read a fucking thing by him.  What does that even say about me?

Remainder of the Ramble

It is basically impossible to write this evening, as I am completely emotionally exhausted by what happened today on the Stinkin Thinkin blog.  The Stinkin Thinkin blog is a blog that’s main purpose is to support the ever so normal questioning of AA.  Many members of this group are ex AA-ers who have been hurt by the program at its decided belief that Alcoholics, Addicts, and the like are powerless.  We have a disease from which there is no cure, except for more AA meetings.  I have loathed AA for quite some time.  Sadly though, I went for years, believing that I was fucked up in many ways because I could not wrap my head around these AA principals.  I know now that I was incorrect.  This blog, and many of its members have helped me to do this.  I do not want to discuss the blog any more.  It is hard for me to stop thinking about it.  My bf has told me that he will put blocks on our computers, if I need them.  The blog, I am embarrassed to say, has become another addiction.  I need to move on.

Here is what I do need to focus on:

Trying to find a job, in education or at the local paper

Deal with the cohabitation situation, whether this means moving or making more space

Make the middle school transition

Pass second scary test

Figure out what is going on in the Master’s program, should I do it, can I do it, etc.  Only four more classes to go

Start looking into local private schools

Start another blog, without this freaking Violet identity.  I cannot obviously talk about who I am on every level on my blog, as I often discuss addiction and cuss like a sailor.  But Violet is prolly a bit more caustic than I am in real life. 

Pick an idea for a story and stick to it.  I do not want to write the story on the blog.  The blog is for my rambles.  Not sure why I even have this blog.  I was inspired by GO GO and Gunther to write this blog, initially.  I wish G2K still had his blog.  I wish this a lot.  I miss Gunther.  It is interesting that the three of us have all at one point taken issue with the blog.  I do not think any of us took issue with the blog’s friendlier moderator. 

I am not sure how much writing in this overly general way about the blog and my feelings toward it help.  At all. 

Return from the Ramble

From the other day...digging it outta hiding... 


I have spent countless hours thinking about my addiction, AA, Alanon, sometimes GFD Coda (yeah, I went their outta decided loneliness in my early twenties, pathetic, much?), and the like.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I think I need to fix my thinking elsewhere.  Plus, I have been spending much of my time on a blog--that used to be linked here.  I am really creeped out by its some of its members right now and one of it s moderators.  -http://stinkin-thinkin.com/.  


This blog is a place for ppl to meet up to discuss the dangers and stupidity of the 12 step ideology.  A few weeks ago I was pretty frustrated with several community members over there, one in particular.  I decided to leave the blog, but then went back in a sort of obsessive, without my own permission kind of way.  


My other irritation over at ST was this: an obviously mentally ill woman was on there trying to get some suport.  She seemed kinda borderline, nuts really.  But I could relate to being in that state.  I felt like some women over on the blog were kinda shitty about it.  And then she got kicked off the blog.  Though I love ftg I do not always agree with her and her inability to undermine the rigidity of the other moderator.

I do think spending my energy there takes up energy.  I need my energy to parent, find a teaching job, and deal with the mess that is my life.  And I want to get back to writing.  All I am doing now is commenting on blogs, FBing like a moron, and writing these stoopid stream of consciousness journal type entries.  Snoozefest.  But I do not wanna put myself down too much here.  Right now I still have to pass a teaching test.  Then I need to present my work to the dean of my college.  Fuck.  I just wanna curl up in a ball and read the books I want to read.  I am very low functioning right now.  And also, to make things super fucking stressful, my relationship is so on the rocks that i feel like I am having PTSD panic episodes all the time.  

Also, my son is now in middle school.  I have not truly melted down over this as of yet; however, I feel struck.  I feel like a deer in the headlights.  Heartbroken.  Like it is a sort of crisis.  The world is moving by, passing me by, too quickly.  I feel like everything will end soon.  I feel like if I ignore my life and do not strive for joy, I will also not feel the pain that is inevitable.  The raising is hard, but the letting go is impossible.  I feel like mothering has been the most astounding thing I will ever do.  It is why I am here.  But I also feel like it is the hardest thing.  And I feel like it is one hell of a lonely job.  Moms often compete, we same to rarely cooperate or support.  I was told by the mother of some chubby kids this week to give my son a protein shake.  As I write this, the anger is returning.  Man, who did she think she was doing this? I do not wanna get into what I said, but man, it threw me.  I know my kid is perfect; I was not worried about that.  But I was concerned  I was putting out a vibe that ppl can treat me like shit.  And this woman is so fucking ridiculously housebound in her overly controlled relationship.  She has a permanent, metaphoric, ugly as fuck diaper bag slug over her shoulder.  I would rather not talk to anyone right now, anyone that is in the tiny, boring as fuck , little town.  I hate its conservatism, its reliance on football for entertainment, and its general nit-wit-ism.  I hate the Lands End way ppl dress.  And mostly, fuckitall, And the mom community, well fuck... I am so sick of it, as this mentioned aspect of the mom community where I live seems so rampant with this diaper bag douche baggedness.  

To My Fat Aunt DB, Stop Emailing Me

 I just found this old post. As I do not believe that I have any readers, I might as well post it. Post all of it. There is so much gd crap in my head, I need to weed it out. And I need to weed it out so that finally--and yeah, I am prolly dreaming--I can create a concise short story that is poetic in its images and outstanding in its message...

So, here was the crazy rant at a poor, pathetic old woman. Yep, I suck on several levels. It is true and at least I can admit it, right? Trigger Warning: This was written in a decided rage and is graphic and just awful. You will better off not having read it.

Dear Aunt DB, stop, Violet. Ok. Ummm. Ok, I need to back up here a little.

I got screwed in terms of family. I have one amazing son, and well, this is it. I do have a crazy ex husband who is right now my boyfriend. Yep, sometimes I lump him into the mess that is my family. On other days, I include him on the shelf that contains the gem that is my son. How is this for awkward, forced writing that bores even its writer. ???? Yeah, I told you *not* to read this. My fat Aunt DB--my lard assed DB aunt, OK, no, my obese jackfuck aunt, DB fucktwat aunt keeps emailing me. She ostensibly wants to know why I am cut off from everyone in our douche of a family.

Really? She is not concerned, do not let her fool you. I am sure you may be fooled, as she is a fat, hideous unemployable former fourth grade teacher with cancer. And she has low status in our family; her own son does not want her over for Christmas, it's true. I am coming to this conclusion: I suck for being mean. And you prolly think so , too, right? Yet I continue in the same vein, as I am prolly have tourette syndrome on top of everything else, emotional tourette. But to continue about my aunt, and my mean little depiction of her, her personality, and her sad little life: she is this annoying. Her needy emails are really a pathetic attempt to connect to a human being. And I get this. I've been lonely, too. But her lack of awareness in terms of her motives grates on my very last nerve. But mostly, her attempts at connection are based--almost solely--on her desire to dig for gossip, about me. For this gossip, I know, will at least be a conversation piece at say...my grandmother's for her little pathetic winter visit. Or, maybe, at my father's house for a super, duper, toxic Thanksgiving.

Here is an example of my writing while in a rage... I wrote this in a draft I found about the db, DB Aunt...and really, I have zero idea what it says or even means:

"Violet says this, i's really so sad. Her poor boy did this. Really. They will tak about us, compare my son's fucking reading scores with my annoyingly spoiled probably mentally ill little brother. Sorry, I have better things to do. Um, like blocking your lame as fuck emails from my yahoo account."

Does this above paragraph even make sense? Not so much; however, it is a pretty good example of the way I write when I am batshit angry, more or less. This in some way refers to her going on and on about my brother's alarmingly high scores in reading. But the idea that my family would go on at such length about someone's reading scores, the scores of a third grader, is profoundly nuts, it really is.

So here was a draft of an actual email I wanted to send, but smartly thought better of at the last moment:

Dear Aunt DB (my aunt is not really named DB--or douche bag, umm),

You tell me in these emails that I must be sad to be divorced, to be on my own, to have lost my house. Here is a thought for you lardfuck ugly (and you really *are* a lardfuck): you never even owned a house, apartment dweller lowlife that you are. And, well, yeah, my ex is a big bag of douche most often, but, see, here is the thing: he loves our son. It is true. My ex has done a litany of shitty things to me. I could go on at length. But he pays for everything in addition to child support. Plus, he adores Z. Z is like the moon to this man. Your ex did not even really visit your kids, right? You lose. You, you shitty triple decker inhabiter, you with those ugly kids, your huge, hungry hippo whole derriere lameas-orlameass--fuck existence, you...

I do not like you. Leave me the fuck alone. You smell like my grandmother, too, while I am on a roll of telling you how I feel. The two of you, you smell fat, like a real live fat woman. Gross. The two of you--not weird sisters, but bland unattractive, creepyasfuck lame sisters,--have this persistent diarriah smell of a fat woman who has never seen a day of thin in her entire life. It is the smell of gluttony, of never being wanted, of never being fucked becuase you were hot or even cute. I have been fucked in this way, you, Stupid. I do not care where you've gone on vacation, you boring ugly, as your trip to Europe is less intense than the way I attracted men. Certainly, I was never a beauty, but I was damn cute. And you , again, I will tell you this, never saw this sort of life, not even for a nanosecond. You are the woman a man closes his first to put his dick into. [Note to self or to my lone reader: what does that man? I do not know. Another crazy description created in an overly, crazy irate mind, I guess.] That,the weird fist closing reference in relation to fat chick fucking, my fat loquatious aunt, that is you. Nobody, expect maybe your doctor, has ever even seen your fat lady twat. I lathe you. I have never enjoyed your company. Everyone in our shitty, narcissistic or borderline-y family hates you and finds you ridiculously odious. Please stop trying to insert your fatness into my life.

Stop fucking emailing me. Now.

Never Yours,

Violet

Here is what I just finished reading: Her Last Death, by Susanna Sonnenberg. http://www.amazon.com/Her-Last-Death-Susanna-Sonnenberg/dp/0743291085 Loved it. I adore most writing that has a focus on a mother with NPD. Wonder why? There are a gizzillion of these memoirs out there, all dealing with mommy as a junkie, mental fuck up, alkie, and the like. There are generally not too, too many of just plain Mom was a teacher, but a shitfuck parent who did not care that my creepy father asked if I was fucking my BF in his buddy's car or was I fucking a herd of elephants? Not sure what the connection is, still, to this day. I get why people murder their parents. I do. Can I admit this? Well, I just did.

I want to be a blogger so much, I do, I do, I do. But my motivation is pretty terrible. I did not get this ridiculously low paying easy no status JOB and I have literally taken to my bed. I have been uploading too many novels onto my kindle, which is really Z's kindle, which means my ex husband slash sorta BF is paying for my reading habit.

Habit. Habits. Wanna talk about my habits? No? You make a good choice.

Here is another book that blew me away: The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll: The Search for Dare Wright. Written by Jean Nathan, fellow Lonley Doll enthusiast, the biography focusses on the author of the creepy (but breathtakingly gorgeous) and decidedly sexual picture books. The ones that feature the two vintage stuffies and the doll, Edith. The one where Edith tries to get on a real horse, that was the first book I pulled off a library shelf. It was an academic library, shared with the locals. Man, that moment triumphs over any wannabe junky moment of my life. I digress, and to get back to my point: the book is also about Dare's relationship with her mother.

Migraines

Updates on 9/23
Originally written sometimes in February 2011.


Here is an old entry from last winter.  I do have migraines.  I know this now and am paying a fucking pretty penny to purchase Treximet to deal with them.  They are hell on this earth!


Here is the entry:


I am also using this blog to chronicle the migraines. Just skip these entries, if anyone else is reading.

The last one I had was the fifth of February. I subbed on Friday and woke up on Saturday morning feeling extremely tired, so I let myself go back to sleep. When I woke up at 12 pm (yep, I know, so gd lazy!), I was an agony. My nausea was outta control, and to my utter horror,  I was outta Promathezine. The level of pain I was feeling in my head was astounding to even articulate.  There is another type of headache that is not in the migraine family.  They are called suicide headaches.  I am not having these, but I feel like the level of pain may be similar.  I understand well why suicide headaches are called suicide headaches.  Like dental pain, had pain is all encompassing and you cannot escape from it.  Suicidal ideation is normal.   I got into bed after walking around my kitchen, lost, puttering lie a wounded zombie, took advil and Sudafed. I drank ginger ale and chewed on some generic anti nauseau tablets. On Monday, I got more Promathezine. And my doctor gave me two free tablets called, Treximent.

Since this time I have felt sick a few times, but pushed through, taking one quarter of a promethazine....

I talked to a girl I went to hs with today. I have been posting my symptoms--often--on facebook.  She told me to give her a call as she has a long history with migraines.  I felt weird doing so, as we were not even that close in high school.  I did always like her though.  Not to totally digress, but she was a lot younger.  I always thought she was pretty funny.    She has had migraines her whole life. I took notes on the conversation.

One of her helpful hints, among many, was lavender, Dr. Teal's lavender bath salt in particular. She made dietary suggestions and pressure point suggestions. She discussed weather being a trigger, the barometric change. She suggested getting tested for allergies. She talked parenthetically about how our bodies change all the time, for example our taste buds change every seven years. Sugar can cause headaches, as can caffeine. But then again, caffeine can save you from intense headache pain. Aside from lavender, there are many homeopathic cures, too. All of this has to do with opening blood vessels.

For her, coke helps settle her stomach. Sometimes salt can help. She told me to eat what I craved during a migraine. She suggested massage. She also discussed wearing glasses that help with gare, yellow glasses. And also sunglasses, polaroid. She also recommended making pillows out of tube socks and rice. These can be put in the freezer and/or microwave. She discussed how sun can be a trigger and a solution. And she discussed acupuncture.

I am going to track each time I have any sort of headache or nausea. Amazed, on Stinkin Thinkin, thought I might have a mold allergy. She is not the first person to say this. Maybe mold is even a trigger?


I have totally not done this.  Sucks.  But I will say here that I just spent over 200- on more Treximent.  The barometric pressure shifted on Friday--the 23rd of September.  I  took two pills and it helped. 

Here is what my sister who is at Blank Medical School thinks. I cut and pasted much of an email convo we had. I was happy she helped. Sometimes we do not speak to each other for months (sometimes years) at a time. I do LOVE LOVE LOVE my little sister and am SO FUCKING PROUD OF HER.


(Edit:  I pretend to love my sister at times.  I pretend so I will not go outta my mind.  But this is a topic for another day.  Truth is, I cannot stand her, as I think she might be a sociopath.  These letters are latest to first in order...) 

Dear Julianne,

I hope you're living somewhere that has a person who shovels for you... If you have a sec., can you tell me what you think?

I have been subbing, so I am not in the school every day and feel like my body cannot handle the kiddie germs like it was when I was there every day. But, I am not sure about this.

It seems like I have been really, really sick maybe four or five times since xmas. Here is what happens:

I start to get a mild headache, but I have this feeling like, "It is *that* kind of headache, the bad kind." Then, pretty quickly, the headache is so intense that I almost feel like I could die. I take sudafed, advil, and drink tons of water. And this barely lifts it. The only thing I can do is shut off all of the lights and pray I fall asleep. During the headache I am pretty nauseous. I got someone to write this prescription for me: promethazine. It helps with the nausea. I have not thrown up ever since Christmas. But other times, with the same headache, I have.

People have said they think I am allergic to mold. But our house in Milton Mills was basically a mold factory and I never felt like this. It may be stress? Or, I might just be getting flu symptoms from the germ-y kids?

Do you have any ideas?

Love,

Violet

Here is her response:

Hi Violet,

This sounds like it's definitely not from the kiddie germs. It sounds exactly like a migraine (severe, sudden pain w/photophobia). A lot of different things can cause migraines--it can be related to your menstrual cycle, hypertension, depression or pain disorder, or just no reason. It could be related to mold, but probably not--that would make you get really congested and wheezy, but your headache wouldn't be as intense and sudden and sporadic as you're describing. You should go to your PCP and let him/her know that this is happening repeatedly.

If it's a migraine, the best thing you can do is take the promethazine (which is for nausea) and 1000mg of acetominophen (tylenol), which is the best thing for headaches. Opiates (morphine, codeine etc) do not work for this kind of headache, which is related to the blood vessels in your brain. BUT like opiates, you can build a tolerance to the analgesic effects of tylenol, so you should only use Tylenol for these headaches.

See if that works, but if they keep happening there are things that your doctor can do for prevention, like putting you on birth control or adding a blood pressure medication (even if your BP isn't elevated)

I hope that helps

XO

Julianne

And then I wrote back.  9/24/11


Honey,

I forgot if I wrote back. Thank you. The Doc gave me a sample of Treximent to try. I have not had one since last wekend, but am hoping if I have one again that it will work! Merci to Dr. Julianne!!! (note: all totally fake names of course!)


Love, 


Violet

Update on September 2, 2011


I do have migraines.  I would estimate that since I was writing with my sister back in February that they have gotten a bit worse.  I seem to get them around my period.  The might have to do with my relationship and stress?  Or, it could be from stress around not getting on the ball in terms of a career.   It could also be from Suutex/Suboxone or Serequel. ANd it could be linked to my weight gain, though I think I as getting these migraines predates the weight gain, for sure.  I have also noticed headaches linked to Adderal.  The Treximent / Promethezine solution is working physically, though not financially.  I have had at least two since last Jne, maybe more.  It seems like I was getting them a lot last December and January.  And I got a lot of them last summer, but not the summer we just finished.