Yesterday was a very bad, no good, miserable day.
We spent Sunday afternoon cleaning rooms and moving furniture. First there was the “cat room” – so called because it’s where we keep the litter boxes (and junk we don’t have room for elsewhere in the house). Second there’s was David’s office. Everything was covered in dust and cat hair, not to mention the odd hairball, cat litter tracked hither and yon, and secret cat vomit (dried in to crusty cakes and blending in to the background). I emptied the vacuum about a dozen times. We put books in book cases, we put miscellaneous takes and CDs and junk in plastic tubs, we dusted, we cleaned. And then it was time to move the bed.
By the time we got to the bed I was pretty freaked out. The cat room and David’s office are two areas of the house I spend almost no time in. It isn’t that I didn’t know they were dirty, just that it was dirt I hadn’t had to face. Once in the middle of it I was nearly overwhelmed. Of course, there was also the need to move slowly and let David direct, as sorting through his belongings makes him very anxious. We left two bookshelves in David’s office and he wanted to move the bed in front of them, but I nixed that idea. I wanted to move the bookshelves, but he nixed that idea. At a temporary stalemate I finally suggested that we hold off on moving the bed and simply continue cleaning, then I pretty much went and sat in a corner by myself for a little while, repeating softly “at least it’s a start; this can be the beginning of a clean house; I do have the right to prevent this from happening again; I have control over the state of my own home” and similar things, trying to stave off the hopelessness the whole mess made me feel.
David finally convinced me to go ahead and move the bed, and I convinced him to move it to a wall instead of in front of the bookshelves. However, when we stripped off the mattress topper and the (supposedly waterproof) mattress cover we discovered what may have been the single biggest contributor to my nighttime asthma problems so far: my side of the bed is green with mold, through and through. With the bed covers off I could actually smell the mold.
This was not the surprise it should have been. We replaced our last mattress with this one because the same thing happened three years ago. One of the most lamentable of Lamictal side effects, for me, was profuse night sweats. The sweating was so intense that I actually sweat all the way through the mattress – even the board underneath my side of the mattress had mold on it. It probably doesn’t help that both mattress were futons – solid chunks of cotton.
David headed off to get a new (hopefully impermeable) envelope for the mattress and I sat around feeling helpless. Knowing we need to bump a new bed to the top of our priority list. Knowing I don’t even make enough money to support myself anymore – meaning that the money would have to come from a credit card. Suspecting that the blame I was placing squarely on David’s shoulders, where my allergies are concerned, was suddenly pointing right back at me (or, more precisely, to my side of the bed).
Later that night, keyed up and a bit upset (though also, paradoxically, emotionally shut down) I took a Trazedone to help me sleep. When our barking dog woke me up at 2:30 in the morning I took a Seroquel. I felt that hopeless about everything.
I did finally get to sleep, but to say I felt terrible yesterday would be a grave understatement. My sinuses swelled shut shortly after I went to bed and remained in that condition, aside from the occasional bloody nose, for the rest of the day. I hated my job. I hated my customers. I hated my inability to focus on anything like looking for another job. I hated where I’ve ended up in my life.
By last night my sinuses were finally opening up again and the medication was finally wearing off. I went to bed before 1am and didn’t even take a Unisom to help me sleep. And I slept great – better than I have in weeks. My sinuses are still a little swollen but nothing like yesterday. My mind is clear. I feel hopeful about our ability to change the way we live. Hopeful about my ability to live without medications. Hopeful about finding a way to decrease my allergies and asthma to such an extent that they don’t interfere with my ability to live my life.
Nothing profound to end this post with. Just a new day and a day farther away from the weekend. And that’s good enough for me.
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