
Tomorrow my son will be done with middle school, and I will become the parent of a high schooler. He worked his ass off to maintain his grades in a self-contained gifted / accelerated program and got into the highest ranked public school in Arizona. Not only is he smart and determined, but he’s funny and empathic. I am proud beyond words.
But that is not the only transition my family and I are going through.
Our sweet old dog, Jane, passed away. A large, cancerous tumor, of which we were unaware, ruptured. She went quickly. The house is quieter, emptier without her. She and I spent most of every day together. Jane was 14 and had a good life. Still, it takes adjusting.
Another transition: I am reinventing myself yet again. It seems that I do this every five or so years. First I was an adjunct professor for five years, and a technical editor. Then an at-home mom for five years. Most recently I was a yoga instructor and educator for the last five-plus years. And now, I think I’ll be a writer.
The more I pull away from the public yoga-sphere the more comfortable I am in my skin. I love yoga and know the good it can do. The industry that has grown up around it, however, is toxic to me. So, I am not teaching for the time being. I am open to returning but only if I truly feel called.
In the meantime I wrote a novella, Thigh Gap. It’s a dark comedy about a woman who escapes a wildly over-controlling husband and becomes the world’s most famous stripper. It’ll be available in a few weeks.
I am also adjusting to medication for bipolar disorder, a.k.a. manic depression. The way bipolar manifests in me is through very long stretches, several months in a row, where I’m hypomanic; and then severe crashes into depression, which last a few weeks. Being hypomanic means being really up -- baselessly confident, euphoric, crazy productive -- but without the psychosis and compulsions of mania. (The latter are probably prevented by the medication I’m already on for OCD.)
You might be thinking hypomania doesn’t sound so bad, and honestly I am sad to let it go. But the tradeoff for riding that high and getting three times as much done as anyone rightfully should is that it is hell on relationships and hard on my health.
The first few weeks of any medication takes patience. There will be side effects to muddle through. Insomnia, headache, lack of coordination, and lack of short term memory are the most pronounced of those that I’m dealing with. Hopefully they will resolve soon.
To end this little update, I just want to give a great big "Thank You!" to all of my family, friends, and well-wishers for your patience and support as I make my way through all of these transitions. It means the world to know that, while I may be sequestered away, you guys have my back.
But that is not the only transition my family and I are going through.
Our sweet old dog, Jane, passed away. A large, cancerous tumor, of which we were unaware, ruptured. She went quickly. The house is quieter, emptier without her. She and I spent most of every day together. Jane was 14 and had a good life. Still, it takes adjusting.
Another transition: I am reinventing myself yet again. It seems that I do this every five or so years. First I was an adjunct professor for five years, and a technical editor. Then an at-home mom for five years. Most recently I was a yoga instructor and educator for the last five-plus years. And now, I think I’ll be a writer.
The more I pull away from the public yoga-sphere the more comfortable I am in my skin. I love yoga and know the good it can do. The industry that has grown up around it, however, is toxic to me. So, I am not teaching for the time being. I am open to returning but only if I truly feel called.
In the meantime I wrote a novella, Thigh Gap. It’s a dark comedy about a woman who escapes a wildly over-controlling husband and becomes the world’s most famous stripper. It’ll be available in a few weeks.
I am also adjusting to medication for bipolar disorder, a.k.a. manic depression. The way bipolar manifests in me is through very long stretches, several months in a row, where I’m hypomanic; and then severe crashes into depression, which last a few weeks. Being hypomanic means being really up -- baselessly confident, euphoric, crazy productive -- but without the psychosis and compulsions of mania. (The latter are probably prevented by the medication I’m already on for OCD.)
You might be thinking hypomania doesn’t sound so bad, and honestly I am sad to let it go. But the tradeoff for riding that high and getting three times as much done as anyone rightfully should is that it is hell on relationships and hard on my health.
The first few weeks of any medication takes patience. There will be side effects to muddle through. Insomnia, headache, lack of coordination, and lack of short term memory are the most pronounced of those that I’m dealing with. Hopefully they will resolve soon.
To end this little update, I just want to give a great big "Thank You!" to all of my family, friends, and well-wishers for your patience and support as I make my way through all of these transitions. It means the world to know that, while I may be sequestered away, you guys have my back.