Ballast

 Two days til Christmas. 

It's been an age since I spent any significant time in front of my computer doing anything other than consuming media of one type or another. Even logging into this blog took a minute to sort out. Partly that's the pandemic, which has driven all of us into survival modes again and again, and when you're doggy-paddling through a day, writing an essay is hardly front of mind.

I'm home by myself tonight. My little guy is sleeping upstairs, my husband is celebrating the end of the year out with friends, and the last of my cookies just came out of the oven. I think I've eaten four of them so far, but careful record-keeping in that department is not my priority tonight. This -- this update, this in-the-moment memoir, this brief sitting down with my own emotions and thoughts -- this is the important thing. 

I called my doctor yesterday to talk about increasing the medications I take every day. It's a knock-off version of the popular Cipralex (escitalopram) which I've been taking for about two and a half years now, to help fend off the worst symptoms of my anxiety disorder. Often prescribed to deal with anxiety and depression, this drug has been a critical chemical ballast in the face of internal storms, but recently the external stressors have overwhelmed even the fortified walls of my little mental tugboat, so I sent the S.O.S. for more S.S.R.I. and my physician approved a 5mg increase to get me through the next little while. We'll check in on my psychological meteorology in a month or two and relax our defenses again once the tempest has calmed. 

It's been a hard season at sea. But my house smells wonderful, my heart is at rest and the must-do-before-Christmas list is slowly getting items checked off. Tomorrow will be a busy one and my child is all but sure to drive me a little nuts, but I'm grateful for the twenty milligrams of peace I will swallow when I wake up -- and for the people who love me even when I'm a hurricane. 

Lord, bless my doctors tonight. May their coming weeks be filled with unexpected peace that runs deeper even than a healthy, regulated brain.