Sunday, January 1, 2012


"The logical thing to do", says my psychiatrist, "is to go back up on the Lamictal, to the dose you were on when things were more balanced emotionally".
I cried the whole 45 minutes I was in her office.

The most important thing is to regain emotional balance. Without that, nothing can happen.
I have been spending so much time brooding and crying, scrapping with my husband, and being short with the children. It is so clear to me that I can't go on this way. It isn't "me". The "me" I got to know post- nf has lots more patience and tolerance for my loved ones, and saves brooding and mourning for my blog.

OK, then, that's what we'll do; slowly go up on the Lamictal to my original dose.

I need to go back on the Lamictal-- I was a pretty good prototype of "Sarah: post-nf" when I was on it. My main problems were the physical pain and trying to solve that. The emotional side of things had been OK. It's a pity we tampered with it. It was awful trying to wean off of it. Now, going back on it includes the side effect of fatigue. Just what was missing in my life.

Speaking of tired, I want to write about a few things that my kids have said in a joking manner that have actually really hurt me.
In making caricatures of everyone in the family (most of them really funny), my oldest son said in a girly sort of voice and hands fluttering about: "I'm Ima, I need to go rest, I need a babysitter to help me, I'm too tired". Ouch.
Then yesterday my second son comes out with "Abba works hard and makes the money and you sleep all the time, too lazy to work". OK, I *know* this seems AWFUL to you readers who aren't familiar with the joking banter that goes on with me & the kids. We are always joking with each other. It's always done in a certain type of voice that we know we are joking. I call them "fatso" if they want me to lie in bed with them and I need them to move over. We joke around *A LOT*. That's a good thing. I think, though, that they don't understand which things cannot be joked about. I privately cried about these "jokes" from my kids. I told Robert about it. I hope he'll find some time to talk to them about it.

Just this morning Robert was telling me about some serious financial problems we are having.
I got depressed that I am not working and pulling in a good salary. I am getting 100% disability, and that pays the mortgage every month, but we are in significant minus. It is **hard** for me that I can't work. A few people recently have been asking me why I don't play [horn, in orchestras] any more. I tell them that I really don't want to. Partly that is true, but deep down, I wish I could have the pain-free stamina to practice and play again. I wish I was up to the difficult scheduling they have at the orchestra I used to play with. I did it for 12 years, through all four pregnancies & nursing and everything. I miss it; the good parts of it. I like to play symphonies, and I am pretty good at it. Hashem blessed me with that. But my horn now sits in the corner of my room, untouched.
I also wish I was up to doing births on a regular basis. That used to give me so much gratification and *fullness*.
I'm 43, I'm supposed to be in the working world.

But, I'm not.
I do mourn that. I lost so much when I got NF.

Hashem never lets us fall all the way down, though. He showed me that I can write.

Welcome to my book. Walk with me, I can't do this alone.


  1. with you - with you - walking with you!!!!
    you have the amazing ability to feel these emotions and still think and write and do --- its stunning!

    I feel your pain - it comes through raw and clear, and yet your crystal faith and determination to move forward is also in focus. You accomplish more in the moments that you call good than many people do their whole lives.

    Oh Sarah -

    you did not deserve to have this to deal with: but you are so strong and thoughtful about it. I know this book will help lots of people in many ways.


  2. I'm right here, listening to you every step of the way.
    Edna Oxman

  3. I’m walking with you, Honey.
    I send you lots of love.
    Keep your chin up.
    Keep that image of the real you in sharp focus.



  4. wishing you hatzlocha on your next step. we are all here to listen and read and feel with you. rochel.

  5. I'm walking with you, Sarah, and I know this is temporary. And I know you will write an emotional page-turner.

    Let's "do" lunch and fly to Africa! Soon.

    Love, M