Thursday, November 13, 2008

Day 86 on Lexapro.

Day 64 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This morning when I woke up, I felt awful. I was exhausted. I did not want to get out of bed. I had stayed up too late the night before trying to finish cleaning my house. And I had finished. But now, I was trashed.

As a result, my head was spinning and attacking in grand fashion.

You are so stupid, I thought to myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

This morning I hated myself again.

I hated myself for having missed a day of work (although Em had been sick.)

I hated myself for being so behind on everything.

I hated myself for having stayed up too late the night before.

And I hated myself for not taking my Lexapro for two days.

Stupid.

I honestly thought that missing it once…or twice…or three times wouldn’t make that big of a difference.

But it did. And now I was miserable.

Once again my heart raced. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I lost motivation to do anything.

I thought that I was strong enough at this point to be okay.

But I guess my core is still jelly.

At least it is an improvement over having no core at all.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Day 85 on Lexapro (oops again.)

Day 63 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This day, I jumped through fireballs and leapt over lava pits and scurried under rotating bars of flame.

This day, I was the hero.

Then, I rescued the princess.

(The princess who was me, too.)

And this day, everything started to become real again.

A little bit and a lot. And in some ways not at all.

Real. Again.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Day 84 on Lexapro. (Oops.)

Day 62 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This day, I thought it was no big deal that I had run out of medication the night before. I was feeling so well.

So, when I found myself too busy to pick up my refill, I didn’t even blink. There is no way the Lexapro would be out of my system this quickly, I thought. I was obviously solid at this point. My house was clean. My baby was happy. I was getting things done again.

And like so many times before, I dismissed the importance of my medication because I felt okay.

The medication that was instrumental in me feeling okay.

But I always forget just how quickly I can fall.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Day 83 on Lexapro.

Day 61 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This day, I am so tired.

These past couple of weeks have definitely worn me out.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Day 82 on Lexapro.

Day 60 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This night, E. Liz and Doug and I went to see Kathy Griffin perform her stand-up comedy act. I was so excited, but the realization that I was going to see her didn’t hit until right before we left.

When it hit, though, energy coursed through my veins.

And I was thrilled.

As we sat in our seats, the anticipation was too much.

I could not wait.

Then she walked onto the stage.

In mass delight, we all leapt to our feet and clapped and yelped and clapped some more.

And as I stood there, thrilled beond compare, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

This is what I had wanted to do.

For so long, this is what I had wanted to be.

This had been my passion. My dream.

But it hadn’t come to pass.

And, in a way that I hadn’t before, I realized…

…that I was okay with that.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Day 81 on Lexapro.

Day 59 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

In an effort to get my finances in order, and because my enjoyment and energy for photography has returned, I have slowly started to advertise the return of my sessions again. Less money this time. But less fuss, too.

As a result, more families will be able to book.

I am hoping this will help get Em and me back on our feet again.

The goal is to be fully booked again in 2009.

I would like to bring in money while I’m working on my other goals. Money that will help these goals happen.

And so, today was my first family session in a long while.

It was a family who had been hoping to book a session for some time and a family I had been looking forward to photographing.

They are some of my favorite people — four amazing women and one of my favorite babies – and while photographing them, the love for photography once again returned.

I love these people, I thought. I love being able to do this for them. Capturing these moments, telling their story, means almost as much to me as it does to them. And how much it means to them is important to me.

*****************************************************************

Last night I watched a documentary that featured wellknown photographer Albert Maysles. During his segment, Albert led the documentarians out onto a sidewalk in his neighborhood in New York City. He stood there smiling, his white hair dancing happily atop his head, and he engaged almost everyone who passed by.

“Let’s see how many people we can talk to,” he said aloud.

And then he did. He stretched out his hands to different people who passed. And in some cases, people just gravitated to him. Even through the lens, you could see that his energy was magnetic. You could tell that he just loved people. That he was inherently interested in them. That he respected them.

It was truly amazing.

And I loved him watching him.

After his talks with everyone, he would say, “Can I take your picture?”

And then he would. And he would somehow capture the essence of each individual perfectly in their imperfections. Magically. Honestly.

And I was transfixed. And my heart leapt. And there was a warmth within me.

That’s how I want to be, I thought.

As a photographer.

And as a person.

Perfect in my imperfections.

Magic.

And honest, too.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Day 80 on Lexapro.

Day 58 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

Now when I go to pick up Em from school, I have to chase her around the play yard to get her to come home with me.

This day, I caught her faster than usual.

As I stood there, holding her hand and catching my breath, several children began to approach me.

Out of the pack, a little girl stepped forward.

“I like your hair,” she said shyly.

“You do?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh yes. It’s very pretty.”

“Well, thank you.”

Then a little boy stepped forward, too.

“I like the color of your hair,” he said, smiling broadly.

“Well, thanks guys! I like your hair, too,” I said turning to the little girl. “And yours, too,” I said to the little boy.

“Do you like mine?” A small voice peeped.

Another little boy, no older than four, stepped forward from the back of the pack.

“Oh yes,” I told him enthusiastically. “I like yours very much!”

“It’s a mohawk,” he told me proudly.

“I can see that!”

“My aunt did it for me,” he explained.

“Well, she did a very good job,” I told him.

He beamed proudly.

Then we turned to go.

This day, as I took Em’s hand and pulled her from her new group of friends, I decided that I just might keep hair the way it is: red, red, red.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Day 80 on Lexapro.

Day 58 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

“Tell me again about the squirrel in the purse,” Em excitedly requested.

“Well,” I told her, “My friend Anessa used to have a flying squirrel that she kept in a little purse. And she carried it around with her. Sometimes I would stand and wait for the squirrel to fly to me…and I would stretch out my arms…”

I held out my arms and demonstrated how Sidney the squirrel would jump from Anessa’s arms to my own.

“…like that!”

*************************************************************

This night, I was sick for the third night in a row. My system was worn down and I was exhausted.

I was disappointed because this was the third day I was supposed to have gotten to see my friend Anessa. She had flown into Houston and this week was to be an Anessa-fest for me. First an invitation to bring Em to her house on Tuesday. Then an invitation to see her boyfriend play in a band on Wednesday. Then another invitation to see someone else play in a band this night.

But I felt awful. The two previous nights I had been forced to decline the fun. I could tell this night would be no different.

By the time she called, I was already in my pajamas.

And I had to tell her I felt awful and couldn’t go anywhere.

“But I can’t not see Lori King,” she said.

“I agree. I cannot not see Anessa Ramsey,” I replied.

And so she decided that she would drive all the way out to our tiny hideaway just to say hello.

“I have good news,” I told Em.

“What?”

“Tonight you will meet one of Mommie’s favorite friends. We used to live together.”

“Why did you do that?” Em asked.

“Because we were in college. And it was fun.”

It had been fun. Anessa tells me she still refers to me as her “good” roommate.

Then I led Em into my bathroom and pointed to the big signed movie poster that hangs on the wall in there.

“See this girl?” I asked.

“Yes,” Em repiled.

“Well, that’s Anessa. She is coming to our house.”

And of course Em was excited. Much like me, Em loves to meet new people…especially those who are already a friend.

After some pizza and a bath for Em, Anessa arrived at our doorstep.

I was thrilled.

Before I knew it, she and Em were coloring together.

“Em,” I told her. “Anessa and I used to sit up all night coloring and drawing together when we lived in the same house.

And we had. We both loved to draw.

“Do you know how to write your letters?” Anessa asked.

“Yes,” Em replied. “I can write lots of letters.”

Hmm. I had never thought to ask that myself. She had only been in school two weeks. What could I expect?

“Can you write an ‘M’?” Anessa asked.

So Em drew an “M.”

“And an O?”

Em drew an O.

“How about another M?”

And before I knew it, Em had written ‘MOM.’ All three of us were thrilled.

And then it was time for Anessa to go.

The visit was too short, but certainly better than none at all. I am appreciative that she drove out such a long way.

When she left, Em asked when we could see her again.

“In December,” I replied.

And I hope that is true.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Day 79 on Lexapro.

Day 57 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

This morning, when I went into Em’s room, she did not want to get out of bed.

“Come on, Em,” I gently prodded. “This is an exciting day. You get to go to school and show your teacher that you learned how to color.”

Suddenly, her bright eyes twinkled with delight.

With the thought of showing off her new skill, she hopped out of bed and enthusiastically prepared for her exciting day.

****************************************************************

When I went to pick up her up from school, Em’s teacher approached me enthusiastically.

“What did you do?!” He asked in disbelief.

“I taught her how to color?” I guessed.

“Boy, did you!” He seemed thrilled. “She can really do it now and she’s very good!”

“That’s great!” I said excitedly.

“She came in and told me she had learned how to color and I didn’t know what to expect, but wow! I was thinking you should come up here and help me teach!”

I was so happy.

“What did you do?” He asked, still seemingly in disbelief.

“I just told her to fill it in.”

“But I’ve told her to do the same thing so many times!”

“I don’t know, then. We just sat down and colored together and I helped her along.”

“Well, you did a great job,” he said approvingly.

“Thank you,” I replied.

My heart swelled. I was so proud of Em and so happy about the bond we are now forming. I want her to be open to me helping her.

And this day, she was.

Day 78 on Lexapro.

Day 56 on Lamictal.

posted much, much later…

“She doesn’t know how to color?”

“No, and she’s getting behind on her work because of it. She just wants to color over and over the same spot. She doesn’t finish what she’s supposed to be doing. I told her she couldn’t play if she didn’t finish, so she said okay. She just sat and looked at her book while everybody else had fun.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to work on coloring with her.”

“I definitely will. I’ll start tonight.”

“Does she not have any coloring books?”

“Well, she does. But I guess she just likes to draw.”

“Oh, she can definitely draw.”

“Yes, that is something she can definitely do,” I agreed.

That evening, on the way home, I broached the subject carefully.

“Em, we are ging to do something really fun tonight.”

“What’s that?” She asked form her carseat.

“Well, we are going to work on your coloring.”

I knew I had to be careful with the suggestion, as she will sometimes shut down at the idea of me working on anything with her. It seems like she takes the admission of not knowing things as an affront to her character. Perhaps she is a person who is under the impression that she should already know everything. Perhaps it hurts her when she doesn’t. Maybe that is why she seems to become embarassed when she doesn’t know the answer.

Maybe that is why she starts to act silly instead.

Her mother is like that.

I am like that.

But this night, she didn’t seem to mind the idea at all.

And so, after I got dinner started, we sat down to color. She had a book. I had a book. And I watched her as she deliberately covered over and over in the same spot.

“Good job, Em!” I told her. “That looks really great! Now color the rest.”

“I am coloring.”

“But color the rest. Fill it in. Don’t leave any white spots.”

And then she did. She really did. She filled everything in beautifully without hardly leaving the lines.

Is that all it took, I wondered?

As I watched and encouraged her, delighting over each small improvement, I decided to tell her one more thing.

“You know, Em,” I started. “You don’t have to know everything at first. Nobody knows everything at first. That’s why we learn. It’s okay to not be good at something and practice and practice until you get better. We all have to do that sometimes.”

And even though she is only four, she seemed relieved when I told her that. Sometimes I forget to tell her the most simple things because I assume she already knows. But at that moment, I knew she hadn’t known this. For years, I hadn’t known it, either.

Though it would have made a world  of difference if I had.