Sunday, January 25, 2015

Step One. I admit I am powerless over Facebook and my life has become unmanageable.

I'm leaving Facebook. Probably not forever, but hopefully for a prolonged break. Here's why.

Not long ago, someone asked me for an honest estimate of how many hours a day I typically spend on Facebook. I thought about it. "Six?" I answered, sheepishly. It sounded like a ridiculously high number. But actually, I exaggerated. The truth is, it's probably more than that. And thinking about the actual number, the minutes and hours that I spend (Spend? Yes, spend. Like currency.) every single day, well, it's painful. So naturally, I stopped thinking about it. Until the Elephant stopped just standing quietly in the room and started trashing the place.  

Certainly something was trashing the place. I look around as I type this...after spending most of the last two hours on Facebook. My house is a mess. I have a to-do of about twenty items list sitting on the dining room table. Whenever I look at it, I get overwhelmed and log onto Facebook instead. I used to exercise more. I used to spend more time cooking real meals. I'm sure I could be making more money if I put some time and effort into it. My house, my garden, my health, and my finances are all suffering because I don't "have time" to put into them. Why don't I have time? How long can I plead the fifth for?



But here's the clincher, and the real heartbreak. My son, light of my life. It goes something like this:
"Mommy, come play with me!"
"I can't right now honey, I have to finish writing this." (Do I need to tell you what "this" is? Do you suppose it is something of urgent importance that couldn't wait another minute?)
"Mommy, can we go a playground?"
"Not today, sweetie. I have a lot to do." (Read: The comment threads on this foodie group are really funny today!)
"Okay kiddo, time to get your PJs on and brush your teeth!"
"Come with me, Mama."
"You get started, I'll be up in just a minute."  (Or two. Or five.)

Writing all this out is making me sad. You know what else makes me sad? If I post this on Facebook, my friends are all going to tell me what a great mom I am and tell me I'm being too hard on myself. But they only see the Facebook version of me. You know all those pictures and all those amusing anecdotes about my son that I post? What do you suppose my son was doing while I was posting them? Beats me, I was doing my best to ignore him at the time.

Is it really this bad? Really? Truthfully...sometimes it is. Maybe not every day, but way too often. And there's more. Let me give you a random sampling of how my life has changed since I joined Facebook in 2009.

FB has become my default communication mode. Instead of phone, email, postcard, or walking half a block down the street to my neighbor's house, I'll use FB. Don't have FB? I'll probably never contact you at all. Not because I don't like you or care about you. It's just not as easy to contact you.

If  I'm having an event I'll post it on FB. If you're not on FB there's a good chance you won't be invited.

If I'm looking for something to do I'll check FB events or post on my wall and ask what's going on. If it's not on FB it's not on my radar.

If I want to get together with like-minded people, be it foodies, karaoke fans, local moms, etc, I look for a group on FB, and if I don't find one, I'll create one. I'm currently listed as a manager (aka "admin") on twelve groups. I started seven of them. These are now my social circles. My old ways of socializing have fallen by the wayside.

I recently realized that I don't have any way to contact a large number of my current friends other than via Facebook. No phone number or email; I just message them on FB.

When I'm doing something fun or interesting, I'm either taking pics for FB, or wishing I had my camera to take pics for FB, or thinking about what I'll say about it later on FB. Often I'm doing the  the same for when bad things happen.

Oh, and let's not even start with all the ads, privacy invasion, and other annoyances the FB itself  throws at us daily.

I could go on. But I'm not really enjoying writing this post. I tell people I need to stop because I'm addicted. Am I? The Merriam-Webster Dictionary says addiction is "a strong and harmful need to regularly have something (such as a drug) or do something (such as gamble)." We could debate the words  "need" and "harmful" here. I could try to wiggle my way out of this. More to the point, let's look at what the American Society of Addiction Medicine says...

Addiction is characterized by:
Inability to consistently Abstain;   
CHECK
Impairment in Behavioral control;   
CHECK
Craving; or increased “hunger” for the rewarding experience; 
CHECK
Diminished recognition of significant problems with one’s behaviors and interpersonal relationships; UM...
A dysfunctional Emotional response. (such as: Increased anxiety, dysphoria and emotional pain) CHECK

My friend Maggie posted this on my wall when I said I'd be leaving Facebook soon.


But, but, but...I LOVE Facebook! Can I tell you all the wonderful things that have come out of being on Facebook? 

New friends! I may have "met" them on FB, but I've gotten together with them in the real world too! 

Reconnection with old friends! From high school, junior high school, elementary school, ever girl scout camp, for crying out loud.

Information and education! Good gracious, the things I've learned on Facebook. Some of them are even true!

Support! When things have been rough for me and/or my son, I've gotten all kinds of wonderful support and helpful advice from my FB community.

Bringing people together! Some of the FB groups I started include:
An alumni group for the high school I attended (closed since 1982) that we used to track down nearly 100 long-lost staff and students and hold a reunion.
A group for NE Ohio Paleo eaters, now up to about 270 members. We share recipes and resources and have held two potlucks.
A group for my fellow karaoke addicts where we can plan outings and post reviews of places we've been.
And more!

Work! I have an actual paying job updating the FB page for the publication I work for.

Along with our farmer's market manager and board president, I use a long-running private message thread to plan market events, share important info, and joke around. It's so much more fun and efficient than emails or phone calls.

I can't tell you how many parties, special events, and other assorted things I've done, because I heard about them on Facebook

And dopamine, dopamine, dopamine, dopamine, dopamine, dopamine, dopamine, dopamine. It's fun! Facebook is so freakin' much fun! Little witty exchanges, getting "likes" and positive comments when I post stuff, watching adorable videos or reading hilarious memes posted by friends...it's really, really fun. (You can read more about the Facebook dopamine connection in this article: How Facebook (FB) is Altering Your Mind.)

So what do I hope to achieve by I signing off?
Time. Lots more time.  Maybe I'll clean the house, get into more creative pursuits, exercise more, spend more time playing with my kid.
A break in the addiction/obsession/whatever-you-want-to-call-it cycle.
And I hope to figure out what parts of FB have real value to my life, and what I can live without. Maybe I'll decide not to come back at all. I doubt that, but I hope I can find a way to return with a clear picture of how I can successfully integrate Facebook into my life without having it take over.






Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Those are happy tears, right mama?

I've hesitated to broadcast the recent good news for fear of jinxing things, but then I remembered that I don't believe in jinxes, so here it is: Eliot has been doing FANTASTIC for two whole weeks. That may not seem like much to those of you with typically developing kids, but for us, it's like a miracle.

Two solid weeks of good days at school, no major meltdowns or incidences, always smiling and happy when I come to pick him up, doing his homework thoughtfully and without complaint. Two weeks of him being reasonably well behaved and actually joyful at home.  For two entire weeks my son has not hated himself, called himself stupid while punching himself in the head, tore up or tried to break his favorite things in a rage, or attacked the people who he loves the most.

Best school day report EVER.
I didn't even know they had a 2+. It's like the amp that goes up to 11!
Contrast with the day, only a few months ago, that he spent more than an hour in an absolute fury, screaming, trying to punch, kick, bite, scratch, and spit on me; ran to a window and threatened to jump out. When his inner storm passed and he fell in bed, exhausted, he gently kissed the spot where he saw his own teeth marks on my arm and said remorsefully, "Mommy, you should give me away or throw me in the garbage. I don't deserve a mommy like you. Your life would be better without me."

THIS is the same boy who now has been happy and has felt like he is a good kid for two full weeks. More then two weeks, even! (It's taken me a couple days to finish this blog post.) Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

We've had brief reprieves before, so I know not to count on this being a permanent condition. But I'm sure you'll forgive me if I pause to celebrate anyhow. You may recall my post this past October, when he had a few good weeks (though never quite this good) after first starting on ADHD meds. I had spent several years disdainful of the possibility that my son might need medications.

ADHD is just a diagnosis for a kid who needs more exercise or who doesn't fit the mold in school, right? It's a condition invented by the pharmaceutical companies, right? It's just the sign of a spoiled brat whose parents are afraid to discipline him, right? Right. No problem. I've got this covered. When my son didn't fit in at school, I pulled him out and home-schooled for most of a year. I made sure he ran around like crazy. I was strict as all get out. But oddly enough, none of this was a magic cure. How about vitamins? Talk therapy? OT? Food sensitivities? Tried them all and then some. Nope. Meds, two of them now. Concerta, 18 mgs, twice a day. Risperdal, .5 mgs, twice a day. The second daily dose of Concerta was added about two weeks ago, and that was when we truly saw the flip switch for Eliot. Night and day. Now my sweet child can control his own body and impulses and emotions, almost as well as any other kid. And he is HAPPY. My boy is happy.

And I just want to collapse and weep out of relief and gratitude and exploding heart-fulls of love for my dear, sweet, happy son.

Two weeks. Yeah. What do you say, kiddo? Let's go for two more.



Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Everybody Dance Now!

Well. So much for NaBloPoMo. Things got a little hectic, what with throwing my mom a big ole weekend-long 80th birthday bash, my kid going a little nutso again, and whatnot. Heavy on the whatnot.

So here's something that's not so heavy. Eight-year-old-boy Dance Party! The kid revealed his top seven favorite songs to me and we had a little dance therapy this evening.

Dance floor fashion: skeleton PJs, mom's leather jacket, and the liners to his winter boots.


Here's Eliot's Top Seven countdown.


Coming in at number seven:
Dizzy by Tommy Roe


Number six:
Dynamite by Taio Cruz




Number five:
Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) by C+C Music Factory
 (Yes, he really likes dancing to these Wi video tracks.)



Number four, with a bullet:
Anna Sun by Walk The Moon


Number three:
You Spin Me Round (Like A Record Baby) -Alvin and the Chipmunks version, unfortunately.


Coming in at number two:
Thriller by Michael Jackson
The boy is a big Jackson fan. He loves "Bad" too. I had to find video for this other than the original because the he's afraid of zombies.


And the new number one hit that he first heard yesterday and adored:
The Fox (What Does the Fox Say?) by Ylvis



So that's all I have for you today. Now signing off from Dance Party Central...





Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Ask B-Word. Round 1.

 Just remember folks, you asked for it!




Michael C asks:  
Dear B-Word,
What food gets a girl in the mood?

Dear Michael,
Tater Tots. Fry up a metric fuck-ton of those babies and then, Boy Howdy. Brace yourself, Bridget.


Judy T asks:  
Dear B-Word, 
What happens if you rip that tag off of your mattress? 

Dear Judy,
Holy fucking shit, you're kidding right? Please tell me you're kidding. Listen, I know there are a lot of jerks out there who will tell you this will rip a hole in the space-time continuum or some stupid fucking crap like that, and I'm here to tell you that is utter fucking SHITE. What will actually happen is    censored                                                                                                                                                                                                       censored                                                                                                                                         censored                                                                                                                 and then your ass will fall off. So I'm not telling you not to do it, just make sure that's what you really want first.

Jim R asks:  
Dear B-Word, 
Paper or plastic?

Dear Jim,
What the fucking hell? Seriously? You're a grown man and you have to ask me THAT? Okay fine. I'm going to pretend you're a goddamn first grader and spell it out for you, okay? Feel free to take notes:
Paper first. You'll need about 12 layers of it, depending on if you choose tissue paper or newsprint. You'll also need about a quarter cup of boric acid, some black paint, three AAA batteries, and an over-ripe banana.
For the second step, you'll need the plastic, about 16 mls (red or yellow, doesn't really matter which), and of course, a bucket crane... although a large backhoe might work too.
That should pretty much cover it. Let me know if you have any further questions.
Moron.


Steve M asks:
Dear B-Word,
What's the best treatment for back bites?

Dear Steve,
Tater Tots. Wait, forgive me. Tater-FUCKIN-Tots.

Gary S asks:  
Dear B-Word,
Are all things absolute in life or, is everything absolutely relative ???????????????

Dear Gary,
Fuck no.
Next.
Anonymous asks:
Can I get advice without all the cuss words?

Dear Anonymous,
Sure! Wait, fuck no. Sorry.

Whoopsie, it looks like we're out of time for today, folks. Please join us next time for another rousing episode of...Ask B-Word!

Monday, November 4, 2013

Who's afraid of the big, bad, hista-meanies? I am!

Oh, don't fret; I'll get back to the advice column soon enough. But today I'm obsessing over histamines. You'll remember that 8 year old son of mine, right? The one with ADHD and a bit of an anger issue?


Yeah, that's the one. While modern medicine has been working its magic on his awesome little brain, I have also been trying him on an obscure elimination diet called the "Failsafe" diet, not widely known outside of in Australia, in my ongoing quest to find non-drug ways to help the kiddo. It's low in salicylates, amines, and glutamates, which occur naturally in all sorts of healthy food most of us eat every day. There are no medical tests that can tell you if you're sensitive. You have to be your own Guinea Pig.

I'll try to simplify what could be a long, science-laden story. The boy was on the elimination phase for about a month, eating only foods that are low in all three chemicals. Then we entered the "challenge" phase, wherein he eats a whole lot of foods high in one of the chemicals to see if it has any ill effects. First up was salicylates. He got to gorge himself on high salicylate foods like carrots, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, Granny Smith apples, mangos, strawberries, honey, cinnamon, curry powder, and mint tea, for ten days. And...nothing. No problems at all. Yay!

Knowing that the amine challenge would involved eating dark chocolate, the boy negotiated a start date of October 31st, coincidentally, Halloween. So we've been doing the amine challenge since then. In addition to daily doses of dark chocolate, he's been eating ripe bananas and meats that are somewhat less than extraordinarily fresh. Histamines and other amines raise in protein foods as they age, hence the amine-sensitive can't eat slow-cooked meats, aged sausages, bacon, canned tuna, etc.

The amine challenge has been another story altogether. I started seeing some bahavior issues, including a shorter fuse on anger, from day one. Even his dad, who seems less than convinced that the diet will have any effect at all, noticed the difference. And today the boy had a fairly major meltdown at school, one of the very few since starting meds that has involved him lashing out physically at others and saying hateful things toward himself. So we appear to have a little amine-responder on our hands. I'm stopping the amine challenge immediately and we'll see if he returns to the happy, charming, kooky little guy he's been for that last few weeks.

For those of you who might like a wee little dose of science-y stuff, I'll drop this here: ADHD, Food Additives, and Histamine.  From which I give you this:
...But genetic differences in our histamine systems may explain why some kids react very badly to azo food dyes, and others don't seem to bat an eye.   And this would mean that ADHD, in some people, is very likely a food allergy.  Those kids might also be vulnerable to environmental allergies that affect the histamine system.  There is also some evidence that methylphenidate (ritalin) and atomoxetine (strattera), medications used for ADHD, work not only via dopamine but also via histamine interactions.
Interesting, huh?  Well I thought it was.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

My True Vocation

The season at the Farmer's Market is winding down, so I've been pondering new career options. And it came to me in a flash yesterday: Advice Columnist! Brilliant, right? It's really the perfect job for me. I like to write. I excel at cutting to the core of any issue without beating around the bush. I never allow myself to get sidetracked by silly little trifles like etiquette and tact. Also, I'm super, super good at not minding my own damn business and being bossy and telling people what to do. Bingo!

No topic will be off limits: love, sex, family troubles, home decor, tax evasion...you name it. If you can ask it, I can answer it. And as an added bonus, there will be cuss words. LOTS of cuss words.

For a limited time, all advice will be free. Once I have you totally dependent on me and incapable of making a single important decision without my help, you'll be paying out the ass. So get those questions in now, folks! ALL questions will be answered in upcoming blog posts, except for the ones I don't really care about.

What are you waiting for? Get those questions posted, folks!

Addendum: I have selected an Advice Columnist pen name. Kindly start your questions with "Dear B-Word."

My advice will have you prancing about in your skivvies like it's 1929!

Saturday, November 2, 2013

It's NaBloPoMo!

So you may have heard that November is NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month, but did you know that it is also NaBloPoMo: National Blog Posting Month? It is, and I'm going to do it, minus day one because, even though I was thinking of blogging every day this month in homage to NaNoWriMo, I didn't know NaBloPoMo already existed until about an hour ago...and also I just didn't get around to posting yesterday.

What shall I tell you about today? Hum...I might like to start with this picture of me that my friend Kevin posted on Facebook a few minutes ago:


This picture makes me laugh because I look like a demented lunch lady. Also, because I'm holding a nine inch long sausage. Go ahead, hit me with you best comments. You know you want to.

The fellas were making sausage in five different flavors, over seventy pounds worth. I was helping by cooking and eating some of it and chugging homemade vanilla extract. Gosh, I love my farmer's market.

Stay tuned. More, and perhaps ever better(!), posts coming your way SOON!