Triad trials.

It isn't always immediately obvious that my illness has me over a barrel-- I sometimes even imagine that I feel good. Just last week, I was telling Troy that I thought I would go another year without trying new therapies, because I felt like I was doing so well with my current set of meds.

That was before the inversion. The inversion is basically Count Rugen's life-sucking machine in my eyes. Take that literally, if you choose--the poor air quality along the Wasatch front IS sucking years off of all of our lives, believe it or not... I also mean it metaphorically though. The inversion sucks my will to live. Up until moments ago, when I huddled up on the bathroom floor sobbing because I just can't today, I thought all of this was just me having cabin fever... but it isn't. 

This is me. :) This is me on Asthma drugs. :Z I do fine without the inhaler, until the valley settles into the thick, nasty, chewable air that comes with winter inversions. Then, I have to either medicate now, or medicate once I've developed a wracking cough that prevents me from sleeping. So, when this most recent inversion settled in for the long haul, I started my meds. 

Without even realizing what was happening, the not so pleasant side-effects took hold. I have felt no desire to even get out of bed this week. I have to, you know, I have kids and stuff to take care of... but I've been doing the bare minimum. Letting the TV do my job. Snapping at every little infraction. Losing my mind over things that are typical 3 year old behavior. 

I did that tonight, and then sent myself to a dark corner of the house for a time-out... and that's when the crying happened and the clarity hit. This isn't me. This is the meds. It happens every time, but it's so subtle I rarely notice until I'm deep into my performance of Momster Woman. 

I'm unusually upset about things that would normally just bug me and I'd move on. I'm not hungry. I just want to be alone, but not really, but kind of really. I have cried 3 times in 3 days. 

Obviously I need to find a better way to manage all of this... but for now, just know I'm doing what I can with what I've got. 

Recognizing this just means a re-boot of what I'm doing for the Asthma, and really-- it's only about 2 weeks until the chewable air starts to go away. I can make it. I'm sure I can. 

Just, in the meantime, maybe cut me a little slack? It's not easy for most people to see how much Samter's messes with me. Heck, I don't even always see what it's doing to me.,, but the effects are there, and they're real, even if you or I can't always see them.