Brain Zaps. A tutorial for the rest of you.

So, I'm totally off the Zoloft. It's been a looooooong process.

I started stopping in June, and I just finished stopping last week. I was only on 50 mg daily (which is the starter dose. It worked for me, so I never upped it; the max is 200 mg daily).

My weaning wasn't scientific, but it was gradual. I began every three days or so taking a half pill, or 25 mg. After a few weeks, I upped it to 25 mg every other day. Eventually I was at 50 mg every third day. After a while on that, I went to 25 daily.

Then the process started all over, with me halving the 25's (I asked the pharmacy to give me sixty 25 mg tablets, rather than thirty 50 mg). Once I was on 12.5mg per day, I gradually introduced days that I didn't take anything at all. That's the part that took the longest.

So here I am, five months later. I haven't had a single milligram in about ten days, and so far pretty good.  I'm more emotional than I've been in years...I was never one to cry, and right now I can choke up at the drop of a hat.  Frankly, I am thinking this is a good thing.  More on that another time.

Right now I want to focus on the bizarrest of bizarre withdrawal symptoms.  If you've been on an SSRI, you likely know what I'm talking about.

Yup.  Brain Zaps.

Before I went on Zoloft, nearly three and a half years ago, I read about this phenomenon and thought, "That sounds awful!"  Ironically, the anecdotal accounts I'd ready about it pretty uniformly said something akin to, "They sound awful, but they aren't.  In fact, they are oddly pleasant."

They are tough to describe.  Essentially, for me, a Brain Zap feels like an electrical current briefly runs through my head, starting at the back of my skull.  Not unlike a friction shock, but totally NOT like a friction shock in that it doesn't hurt at all.  Just the fun part of the jolt.  And yes, if you've had a Brain Zap you'd know there IS a fun part.

Brain Zaps were always my cue that I was behind on my Zoloft.  If I missed a day, and went too long the next day, sure enough...zzzzzzzzzzztttttt.  Oh, right, gotta take my Zoly.

The strangest thing about this (and yes, the strangest part is  yet to come), is the physical action that would proceed the BZ.  It seems BZ's require, again, at least for me, a quick eye movement. Not a simple annoyed eye roll (if that were the case, I'd pretty much have them constantly when running low on Zoly).  

No, it requires a faster motion than that.  

A quick over the shoulder glance.

Eyes darting to the other side of the room because I think one of my kids is trying to sneak some cookies.

A sudden look upwards after opening our hall closet because something is about to fall on my head from our overstuffed hall closet that I keep nagging my husband to sort through because I am not tall enough to reach the upper shelf otherwise I'd do it myself.

(oh, sorry for that tangent.)

Anyway, that's the Brain Zaps.  

Here's what I didn't expect.  I am still getting them.

They are, however, far less intense than anything I'd experienced while actually on Zoloft.  There is just this faint little zzzztt.  Kinda like Zoloft is saying Hi!  Remember me?  We used to hang out?  Ummm...thought I'd check in.  

I do remember, Zoloft.  You were good to me.  Thanks for all you did.  You helped me at a time when I really needed help.  I'll always remember you fondly.  

Now, Zoly, go work your magic on the next person.  And don't let those Brain Zaps freak them out.

Hello to all Christine’s readers!

I’m Katja and I’m honored to guest blog here while your lovely blogger Christine is at BlogHer.

I blog about my crazy life with three kids and a helicopter pilot husband at Skimbaco Lifestyle Blog - and I’m also a founder of a store with a same name, Skimbaco.com.

You might know me as the lucky lady who sent Suri Cruise some shoes and her father Tom Cruise showed them to Oprah on Oprah show. You might have also read that my children have all born in three different countries while our world travels. I’m from far away too. I’m from Finland, from the North corner of Europe.

While I would love to tell you that my life is all glamorous, I confess: it’s not, unless I make it so! Like Christine, I believe that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade.

My life isn’t glamorous, I’m just making lemonade!

I have experienced amazing things in life not because I’ve never had any bitter lemons, but because I have had so many. While it such a cliché to say that when one door closes, other one opens, not enough many people live it that way. I do.

Be adventurous, try new things, meet different people and don’t be afraid to do something that isn’t quite the norm. You never now what you find when you take the unkown route instead the safe old one.

I enjoy the little journey called life and I truly believe almost anything in life is possible and you can achieve any dream of yours.

Not saying that it’s easy, but it is possible.

I’ve always annoyed my sister by saying that sure she could buy her dream car, Porsche, if she really wanted to. She just has to want it bad enough. She keeps telling me she doesn’t have enough money, like most people would.

I say that even you or me could buy a Porsche, if we really wanted to.

It might mean selling a house. Taking a second job. Never going to movies nor eating at restaurants. No shoe shopping, no manicures or pedicures. Saving on groceries, and saying no to vacations. Driving a bicycle to work while saving money for the dream car. Selling the collectibles, designer handbags or expensive sporting equipment from your closets. It might take months or even years of saving money. But anyone can do it, if truly passionately motivated.



I met a man of my dreams in Germany. Month later he was gone, he flew back to United States. I was a penniless student in Germany, making very little money as a nanny. I saved money to buy a flight ticket back to Finland (where I’m from) and arrived with my bank account empty and a couple of bucks in my pocket.

I was determined to get a job and save enough money so I could come to the US and see the man of my dreams again.

I got a job bottling shampoo in a shampoo factory and I was there less than 48 hours after my flight had landed. This might not be as of a shocking job if you didn’t know my previous jobs, like being a runway model or a ”face” for a huge national company with pictures of me on billboards advertising their products.

I bottled shampoo for one week, then I got a job in a small hotel on the side of a highway. I worked 12-hour-days, 7 days a week. I had my receptionist shifts, and after 8 hours of that, I cleaned rooms and bartended during the weekends.

It was horrible.

But I did it for three months, while living in my grandmother’s house. And I saved enough money for the flight ticket and to stay here for three months.

My friends and family thought I had gone crazy. I was ”wasting my life” I heard. I should have been studying management books and dating lawyers-to-be, not foreign helicopter pilots.

But one week after I had arrived in the US (for the first time), the man of my dreams proposed me (and we spent the money to buy furniture to our first home together).

We just celebrated our tenth anniversary this month. We have three beautiful children, and right now when you are reading this we are moving from Colorado to New York, towards new adventures together.

It might all be crazy, but wasting my life? I don’t think so. I’m living my life.

Yippee!

We're moving again.

This time, it's a good thing. No, actually, a GREAT thing.

Through a confluence of events, a wonderful home has fallen into our laps. We are already crazy in love with it. It is on one of my favorite streets in our little town, we'll have lots of friends close by, it's super close to my son's school (and that means when my daughter starts kindergarten, we'll be in that school's boundaries, which we aren't now), it is bigger than the place we're in now and has a fabulous floor plan, and...wait for it...it has a POOL!!!

Suffice it to say, we are all giddy and thrilled. Not about the actual moving part, that sucks big, hairy donkey balls (or so I hear), but whatever. I have a couple of months before we are outta here, and I'm going to purge, purge, purge for the next weeks (except for the boatload of stuff I have to keep for home staging).

The past week has been awesome in so many ways...I won a Tootsie DVD from my bloggy crush Neil, this post of mine got a mention in the Houston Chronical and a nod from kirtsy, Shania from Craving Silence is sending me some books to read, and I won a shower timer from Crunchy Domestic Goddess.

Oh, and yeah...financially things are rocking. Well, they will be in the future...but things are definitely looking up.

I'm going with our luck is turning around here. Screw it, I'm becoming an optimist from this day forward.

Dare I hope?

The last few weeks, I've been feeling pretty down, my peeps.

Money's not been tight, it's been downright squeezing us dry.

We've had a few mechanical issues in our home...and by mechanical, I mean both of the human skeletal and the architectural plumbing sort.

And on the emotional front, things that had once kept psychic demons at bay have been threatening to no longer work.

As if that wasn't enough, my laptop has been finicky and thus my connection to the Internet (TO YOU!!!) has been sketchy at best. So I've been pretty much reliant on my husband's laptop. Which is with him 90% of the time. Niiiiice.

Oh, and I am due to have a repeat mammogram in the next couple of weeks because the one I had six months ago had some suspicious specks. *Gack*

I've been...scared. Unsure. Isolated. Fighting hopelessness. Broke.

Then, out of nowhere, a situation fell into our laps. One that would give me hope, and take away a lot of the crap I've feared the past few years...not that it would fix all of our problems, but one that would make a lot of things better.

I don't know if this situation will work out. I'm afraid to really hope, because what if I get too excited and positive and it all falls apart? What if I am left where I am, minus the dream of this new, most delicious carrot dangling before me?

So. I am trying to pretend the carrot doesn't exist, and fighting the urge to indulge in fantasies.

But should I be revelling in the dreams while they are possible? Is it better to indulge and have hope thus risking disappointment, or just pretend that hope doesn't exist?

These are the days of our lives

Earlier today, I was IM'ing with a good friend who lives on the other side of the country, and I was asking her advice about another friend, whom she's never met. More specifically, how I should be responding to a particular situation in which I find myself regarding this friend. A situation that has slowly devolved and become potentially insurmountable to our friendship, unless we suddenly are able to turn back the hands of time. I'm still working on that Master of Time, Space, and Dimension thing.

Then later I was talking on the phone (sooooo last millennium *yawn*) to another friend who also lives far away, about another friend who lives even further away. This phone conversation revolved around our concern for this friend and his declining mental and physical health. We spoke for nearly an hour, while his friends in the background chastised him for not hanging up and enjoying a Cinqo de Mayo drink with them.

(I must stop right here and emphasize that both of these conversations revolved around helping the party about whom we were speaking...this wasn't just idle gossip, people...it was very, very busy and industrious gossip.)

Anyway, these two conversations left me feeling strangely happy yet unsettled.

I love that I have friends in my life, however frequently we talk, that are part of my chosen, extended family. I revel in the fact that our stories are woven together inextricably, and that the fabric that is created will keep us warm in our coldest moments, and serve as a hammock when we want to kick back and relax.

But these two conversations today also reminded me of others that were once a large part of my life whose thread, for whatever reason, frayed away forever from the fabric that is my story.

And I worry that the two people about whom we spoke will also, one day, be a part of my history instead of my present.

Feel the bloggy love. Really, FEEL it!

The thing I love most about blogging is YOU.

This amazing, ever-expanding community full of wonderful people...coming together despite the miles, building strong friendships without meeting in person, and changing the world for the better together. I can't imagine what my life would be like without all of you.

To that end, I'd like to share a few things with you:

Have you heard about Lotus (aka Sarcastic Mom...that's her rack to the right by the way), the mold that was infesting her home, and the landlord who refused to do anything about it despite the fact her family was getting sick? Bloggers to the rescue! Angie from A Whole Lot of Nothing, Dawn at KaiserAlex and Victoria at VDog and Little Man have teamed up and provided the interwebs a few different ways to help Lotus and her family get some cash together to help them get out of that mold pit and into a new home. Wanna help? Click the link below (or if you're feeling randy you can click on that aforementioned rack ---------->).



I also suggest visiting the sites of these amazing women who are banning together to help a fellow blogger...I know I am. It's what it's all about.

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On a more personal level...

Jill at Caffeine Court was kind enough to bestow upon me her Slammin' Post Award for one of my pee stories (I am soooooooo highbrow): "One more time when I really, really had to pee."



I'd like to hand it over to Marjorie at 280 Main Street for her touching post Random Kindness. Her kindness, warmth, and humor ooze out of her every post; this one is no exception.

I'd also like to extend it to Sarcasta-Mom at The Adventures of Sarcasta-Mom for her oh, so perfect post about being broke. Not frugal...broke. As I know all too well, there's a distinction and she not only explains the difference, but offers up some tips on dealing with it.

"Slammin' Post" doesn't do this post from Casey at Moosh In Indy justice. This is one of the most gut-wrenching and yet inspirational things I've ever read. It's haunted me since I first read it back in November. It starts with this, "I overdosed on prescription medication when I was seven months pregnant.

On purpose."

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The love continues...HRH at June Cleaver Nirvana awarded me this:




How awesome is that? I'm extending this bloggy love to one of the most beautiful (inside and out) bloggers I know and am honored to call 'friend.' Loralee from Loralee's Looney Tunes...I puffy pink heart you big time!

I'm also sending it to Domestic Chicky...for a lot of reasons including the fact that her blog is always a fun read and the fact that she loves Eddie Izzard (whom I've met and is super nice. And hot).

And Jennifer from Playgroups are No Place for Children for a consistently hilarious and touching blog. Plus, she's genuine and loyal. You just have to love her.

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And yet more love: Liz at Pink Lemonade of Life was kind enough to send this one over:



Now, I'm just blushing. Robin from Around the Island, this one's for you. I can't read her blog without feeling a little better about the world, knowing there are people like her in it.

Mrs. Flinger gets one as well. If you don't read her, you should. She's funny and insightful and super nice and she looks great first thing in the morning, too!

And last, but MOST definitely not least, Mrs. Incredible from In the Fast Lane because her writing is super and entertaining and I after reading her posts I sometimes wish I were her. Or at least, that I'd written what she did.

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Now, time for a meme!

J over at Take a Walk on the Childside, a loooooooooontime online friend from my pre-blogging days and a big part of the reason I started blogging, has tagged me for a meme.

So here are the rules for this little one.

1. Grab the nearest book of 123 pages or more.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the first 5 sentences and write them down.
4. Then invite 5 friends to do the same.

"No, precisely no!" He leaned forward of their coffee cups, his voice low and fervent. "What could be rarer, more precious, more compelling than unmasking these hacks for what they are? Than an instrument to trumpet that the emperor has no clothes, and the grand vizier has not clothes, and the empress is starkers, to-do you get my point? Debunk the lot of them."

Oddly, that paragraph speaks to the title, which is The Emperor's Children by Claire Messud. I just started it and am really enjoying it.

And in the spirit of bloggy love, consider yourself tagged! Unless you don't want to, then you aren't tagged!

ABC Wednesday...See the light... brought to you by the letter "S"

Here is what we started with (*barf*):

This is better:

But this is bestest (yeah, we know it's too high, but we'll deal with that later):

Hello mirror, it's me, Christine

I was looking in the mirror the other day and realized that it was the first time I'd done so in a long time. Oh, sure I give myself a precursory glance several times a day...but it's been a while since I really looked at myself.

I used to be known for being a bit, well...vain. I paid attention to my my hair, my clothes, my face, my body. Not that I was "fancy," mind you; I just spent time on myself and wanted to look good. Looking good made me feel good. I never left the house without showering and throwing on some makeup (the bare minimum was eyebrow pencil, mascara, lipstick, blush). My clothes were casual but hip, and my shoes. Sigh...the shoes. And my mom and husband could attest to the fact that my concern over hair color and style bordered on the obsessive (when you've got fine, straight hair like mine it NEEDS attention).

When did that stop? Sadly, I don't know...was it a gradual thing? Or did I slowly stop paying attention to one thing, then another, then another, till I turned into the me I am today? I can't believe I don't know the answer to that question. I do know most days now I simply throw my hair into a pony, squeeze my body into a velour track suit or something (sorry Fussy), brush my teeth and wash my face, and run out the door. Where am I? This isn't me.

It's been ages since I had a beauty regime. I am lucky if I wash my face twice a day. Where are all the little bottles that used to line my bathroom shelves? I miss them. The cleansers and toners and exfoliators and wrinkle creams and hydrators and skin rejuvinators and moisturizers moisturizers MOISTURIZERS.

I'm done with the frump. I'm taking back my high maintenance self. This month is chock full of changes (moving) and vows to find my soul again (NaBloPoMo and NanoWriMo most notably) and getting in shape again (Mrs. Flinger's Weight Loss Wars). I'm going to start staring at my face in the mirror, examining pores, wondering it that is a new wrinkle, plucking errant hairs and experimenting with new products.

P.S.: Thanks Slackermommy for the motivation.

In an attempt to fight off my own temper tantrums...

...I decided to watch a couple of my fave temper tantrums. Here they are for your viewing enjoyment as well.

P.S.: Just got turned down for the house we really wanted. The pets. Again. Two more possibilities...one isn't looking good. So we're really in all likelihood down to one. If that doesn't work out, I don't know what I'm going to do.

*UPDATE*: We're down to one. The one that wasn't looking good was in fact NOT good. They are going to sell, not rent. Please internets, put out good vibes that this one comes through. We're down to the wire here.

**UPDATE 2**: I've heard that when some try to click on the videos, they are told that the vids aren't available any more. Weird, because they are for others, and they are still on YouTube. Should I explode now? Please let me know.