I left my house at 11:30 am and returned at 10:30pm. 11 hours away from the house! It was a productive day if you count how many times I went in and out of the dressing room in the Misses section in Macys. It was a semi-planned day, but even in my most structured plan, it didn’t say anything about leaving my couch for 11 hours plus being on my feet for almost as long minus the driving time. Anyway, it is what it is.
I started my day by taking fried plantains to a friend of mine who is recuperating from hip surgery. Then I continued from there to pay my new Shrink a second visit. The positive side of the meds seemed to be kicking in, as did the side effects: insomnia and vivid, real-life-like dreams. It figures that the two hours a night I’m getting is belabored by these dreams. The dreams are almost manic in nature. I am high as a kite in most of them and I am engaged in super girl power stuff. I have premonitions and they come to pass (in the dreams and in real life). I’m confused just telling you about it. So for a week, I’ve gone from getting a good 8-9 hours of sleep every night to 2-4 at the most each night. It’s frustrating because I know I am tired but nothing I do will make the sleep come any faster or keep me asleep any longer than 1-2 hours at a time. I don’t like the loopy feeling of Benadryl nor did I want to find out what drug interactions there were with my meds so I phoned the Shrink.
Soon as I plopped myself onto the Shrink’s loveseat, I blurted out: “I can’t do this! I need my sleep!” He nodded apologetically. I agreed that I’d seen an uplift in those clouds but not sleeping was definitely not worth the uplift. He said we could stop it completely and see if the uplift stayed. We could add a sleep medication to counter that insomnia or we could play cha cha with all my cocktails. Or I could try an entirely different drug. We were headed down that road that I had dreaded for most of the years since beginning med therapy. I opted for a sleep med to counter the insomnia. We agreed, I’d pause on the Abilify until I had resumed a normal sleep schedule and try it again. Too many pills! For a girl who still chokes when she swallows with yoghurt or any other such aids.
So meds tweaked, I headed off to Wally World (don’t judge) to get a few things for my upcoming trips. I live almost an hour away from any stores and the only mall for miles around, so when I go that way I take advantage of it. Plus, there’s nothing like an impending trip to make you realize that oh yes indeede you do need that new bra or a new pack of undies. You don’t want to hide all your stuff for fear your host might discover it. I thrift-store shop so I’m not a snob as far as clothes are concerned, but I believe in keeping the things closest to your body as clean and fresh as is possible and affordable.
Once you leave the house with your mind staid on shopping, Lord help ya. At least that’s how it works in My case. Mania or not, I love shopping. Mania makes it more fun and exciting because I know I have a bottomless bank account. Non-manic self is frugal and calculates everything down to what percentage of her paycheck the entire purchase is going to be. On meds equals 80% frugal; 20% “caution-to-the-wind.” In any case after 7 hours, I only bought things I needed and my excuse: I have gained weight!
I’ll talk about weight another post even though I swore it was something I’d never care enough to write about. In any case, I was in the dressing room surrounded by several pairs of capris in the size I thought I wore. I left the dressing room three times on one occasion to get the right size. Mind you, I have finally gained my “ideal” weight. I feel like a true Ghanaian woman now (whatever that means). lol. But here I was upset that I was a size bigger than I imagined this woman to be. I wanted the weight and it looked good on, but I didn’t want the number allotted to it. The goal was to get me some comfortable-fitting clothes since I had given most of my clothes away to the our caregiver when I was leaving Ghana, and since for the first time in a few years, I could afford it. When you are leaving the country (Ghana), everyone assumes when you arrive back in the U.S. it will only be a matter of days before you replenish your closet so they have dibs on your clothes the minute you confirm your return flight. Smh.
Anyway, size be damned, I kept going out and coming back in; dressing and undressing until I found the things that fit comfortably. When I was skinny, I used to want wear two undies and a couple petticoats so I looked bulky. Now, even though I got it, and often people tell me to flaunt it, I am still quite prudish so I would be mortified to be caught in anything too revealing. But then again, who’s standards of “revealing” are we talking? (another post) Anyhoo, now for the sake of money, I know I can’t put on any more weight. While I was trying on clothes, the thunderstorms and rain they had forecasted let loose, so what choice had I but to keep shopping. 😉
I am trying to get my various selves to agree to stay out of the stores for the rest of the summer, but I am not sure we have the willpower to make this happen. We’ll see! For now though, I think I am ready for the first trip of the summer: Toronto!