Delfi’s day started fairly typically: woken up by a random text message an hour earlier than she wanted to be up. An hour and a half in bed on her iPhone; looking at Facebook; playing Scramble with Friends; deleting Facebook in sorry recognition that it consumed her life and dulled her brain; downloading & trying out FB event apps so she wouldn’t miss any events without FB; realizing they don’t work without FB installed; re-installing FB with a huff and a sigh.
And of course, she got out of bed too late to have enough time to shower before her appointment with the Partial Hospitalization Program that Dr. Palmer said would change her life. Delfi strongly doubted that a 15 day treatment program clear across the city would change her life, but she promised both Dr. Palmer and her tele-therapist Luisa that she’d give it a try. She knew she could make it across the city, even if she was late, so she put her hair in frizzy ponytails, ignored the circles under her eyes as best she could, put the same clothes on as yesterday, and headed out to the bus.
The route, the bus, the appointment, the cafe afterward, the way home, the rest of the day — all of it was rote and uneventful. Taking the bus was unpleasant, but she managed it. Deciding which route was the toughest. She cried at the appointment, hope was not restored, but she managed it. She went to a cafe in the rain, didn’t get much accomplished but managed filling in her day-diary so she could reflect back on her week should she ever wonder how she spends her time. She managed.
Upon returning home, it was all Delfi could do to force herself to eat. Home-made Cabbage Cilantro Soup with Beans — not appealing at all, but healthy and tastier than it sounds. It’d been sitting in the fridge for days, long after she’d cooked it. She really wanted a rotisserie chicken, but felt too guilty to let the already cooked food go to waste, and too fucked up about money to justify spending it on chicken when she had healthy food in the fridge. She watched TV, surfed the ‘Net, did ANYTHING except prepare for her job interview on Monday or even apply for the other job she’d seen that seemed promising.
She couldn’t motivate to do anything, it seemed, except play Scramble with Friends and look at FB. What the fuck had become of her life?
Finally, she crawled into bed to take a nap. So tired, so unmotivated!
She looked at the brown bottle of little blue pills. Five milligrams of Adderall. Delfi hated taking them. They made her GERD worse (yes, only 110 lbs but with acid reflux! Getting old sucks!) and she crashed and felt worse than usual, it seemed. She also hated taking them without Luisa and Dr. Palmer being on board– even though Luisa had suggested she take them from time to time to prepare for interviews, it was also clear that Delfi probably needed a mood stabilizer to avoid any crashing. But Delfi didn’t have any, and Dr. Palmer wanted her on another antidepressant first. She felt like a guinea pig, a pharmacopeia of experimentation! And she hated it.
But she hated this feeling of malaise more. Of staring at all her crap in piles around the house and not being able to do anything about it. At looking at bus routes and not being able to pick one. At turning on the computer to study for her job, and becoming overwhelmed by so many sites to choose from. Of not caring or wanting to do anything.
And so, she popped her little 5mg blue friend, and crawled into bed to play Scramble.
About 30-40 minutes later, she was brushing her teeth for the first time that day, getting ready to shower, thinking of plans to better organize and take all the supplements she was trying to take to help with the GERD, thinking of blogging, thinking of clearing space on the table, doing laundry. Motivated for change, for action.
Here was her hope, after days of hopelessness, weeks, years, a lifetime, an eternity. The fix is temporary, but it’s something.
Hope in 5 mgs, take 4 times a day, use only as directed.