Thursday, April 27, 2006

Journal: Flappable

The people I most admire almost all share a trait to which I aspire: unflappableness. I envy their composure, and wish I could achieve a state of zen-like composure, riding my various troubles like a little boat floating on the sea. Unfortunately, I seem to be incurably flappable.

When I was a kid, my mom deemed me a "sensitive kid", and I was: deeply invested in any product of my intellect or creativity, susceptible to emotional trauma at the slightest perceived criticism, quick to anger when I felt somebody else was breaking rules I was following. Growing up eased up some of these triggers, but I still feel the same old buttons getting pushed, daily, and before I know it, I'm flapped.

Lately, I've felt especially easily flapped, and I primarily blame MS. Work has been busy, and it seems like the benefits of the Lyrica have been diminishing. It's not yet noon now, and the burning sensation in my thighs is surging in for the day. I've been taking 300 mg twice a day for at least a couple months now. At first, it worked well, but now, not so much. A few weeks ago, I'd felt good enough to try a lower dose (hoping maybe it would help me to shed some weight), but quickly decided to go back to the full dose. After that, I'd forgotten to take my evening pill for a couple days. Did I foul up the drug's effect by dropping the dose briefly and skipping some pills?

It's going to be a long one; I could well be at work for another 10 hours, simmering, sizzling, waiting for the phone to ring, trying hard not to get flapped by a client in a hurry or by discourteous drivers and speeders on the drive home. I wish I could get rid of the pain, get a good night's sleep, get things done, be less brittle.

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