5x5 Challenge : Day 2 UNDER THE WIRE

Oh man. Look at all this extrinsic motivation at work, Nicci Micco. I'm literally in bed wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and sail off to sleep, yet when I saw your post on Facebook I remembered : Shit. I need to write. 

It makes me thankful. And rueful. Is that a word? I don't want to be doing this right now - particularly on my flippin' phone - but I am so glad to be doing this right now. 

As you can see, my five-minute reflections take on a different tone closer to midnight. My brain is tired and scattered and putting these words together takes an effort that I'm not aware of before the sun sets. And my tummy hurts. It's been hurting off and on for two weeks now. I should probably get that, as my mom phrased it, "resolved."

A kidney test! She says. Get your kidneys tested! But mom, the pain isn't near my kidneys. It doesn't matter! That's the first place that medicine effects. 

Ah, "that" medicine. It's Zoloft, you know. For panic attacks. I've been on the stuff for eight years and four weeks ago I began the process of coming off. From 100 milligrams to 50, and tonight, from 50 to 25. I cut the 50 mg tablet in half with my snazzy new pill cutter and swallowed the tiniest little pill. As I barely felt it go down my throat I thought, "do good things," the same as I have every night for the past eight years. But then I thought, "or do nothing at all." Maybe I've got this. 

Tomorrow will be a test. Dual birthday party for our kids - 20 children and 15 adults RSVP'd. Let's see how I handle that on 25 em gees.