Someone With a Pen: Richard Grayson’s Diary

Friday, November 3, 2000

4 PM. I don’t know how many more weeks like this one – or days like today – I can endure. This illness has devastated me in every way. I barely know whether I’m coming or going.

At midnight, I began having that sense of anxiety – like adrenaline rushing through my system – probably as a result of terror of insomnia.

Naturally, with my brain chemistry sending messages to have chills, to shake, to sweat, to rapidly beat my heart, etc., there was no way I could fall asleep: my bowels move, my temperature rises, my internal thermostat is broken.

During the night I wondered if I have a physical problem because I don’t feel so much “depressed” as I feel sick.

I emailed Bev Reinhart with some rantings at 3 AM, and I finally called Student Health at 11 AM to get my lab results. They wouldn’t give them to me over the phone so I made an appointment for 12:40 PM.

It was a miracle that I could force myself to go anywhere today. The nurse practitioner I saw (not Bev) told me all my test results were normal except that my sugar was a bit too high (I’d eaten raisins and a cereal bar in the waiting room that day) and so was my potassium level, which needed to be retested.

I talked to yet another health care professional who had my chart, which seems to be growing exponentially. In the end, she prescribed Ativan, which I think is in the Valium class of drugs, to help me sleep and to relieve anxiety for the weeks until the Paxil I’m taking kicks in.

The Ativan is only 1 mg., and I can take three a day if I need it – “to help you function.”

I couldn’t function this morning and had to cancel my classes. I spoke to Teresa for an hour at 5:30 AM (7:30 AM EST), and she feels sure my problem is mental, not physical. My parents feel the same way. By now, I do, too.

Last evening’s Arizona Media Law class was fascinating. David Bodney brought in John Dine, the assistant managing editor of the Republic, who spoke about privacy and defamation lawsuits and how journalists cope with and plan for them.

The subject matter was so interesting that I asked about four questions, twice as many as anyone else. At that point in the evening, I felt completely removed from my illness and had a relaxing drive home, where I read and watched TV.

But by midnight, the “feeling” of dread swept over me and I couldn’t turn it off until I got to the Student Health Center more than a dozen hours later. During that time, I exercised, walked to mail letters, got online, wanted to scream . . .

After getting back from ASU, I again called Mom and Sat Darshan. At this moment I’m drooling, probably a side effect of the Ativan.

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Sunday, November 5, 2000

6 PM. I had some panic last night, but it was masked by the 2 mg. of Ativan, and like the night before, I can’t remember much about the night except when I felt awake and scared.

Right now I feel worn out and not ready to face another week even if Friday is a holiday and I do get to see Susan Vaughan, the psychologist, on Tuesday, and Bev Reinhart again on Thursday. I didn’t grade the Mesa Community College papers, so I’ll have to force myself to do them by Thursday.

Emotionally, I feel depressed but not desperate.

Of course, some nice stuff did happen today. On the Web this morning, I discovered that the Republic had published my State Lines column in their Arizona Diary section.

I went out and bought a couple of copies of the paper. My name is in huge type, and it looks as if my entire essay is there, along with that youthful-looking photo Patrick took last year.

There was a little “Meet the Author” box and a larger “A Richard Grayson Sampler” box featuring an excerpt from “The Silicon Valley Diet” (without any page references).

Last evening I read a lot of the Sunday New York Times online, and so, after exercising and getting dressed, I went over to Borders at 10 AM to have a cup of hot herb tea (which I filled up with cold water as I drank it) and read the rest of the news, Business and Week in Review sections; I’ll leave Arts and Leisure and the Book Review for whenever.

At Kinko’s, I managed to break up the two-thirds of the Republic broadsheet into three 8½” x 11” pages of columns, boxes and photo.

After lunch, I decided to go to the movies for the third Sunday in a row, so I went to the 1:35 PM show of Billy Elliot, about a British coal miner’s son who wants to be a ballet dancer, at the AMC Grand on Stapley.

It was an enjoyable diversion, and when I got out of the theater, I decided to drive to Apache Junction.

Dad was just pulling out as I got there, and so I joined him in taking China to Prospector Park to take a crap.

Inside the house, I picked up my MCC paycheck and a $6.50 Amazon.com check (one copy of Diet got sold during September) and other mail, like the HMO authorization for the psychologist, a new JCPenney credit card and some bills.

I exchanged the cell phone that my parents gave me before for a new one that has a recharger so my battery won’t run out.

My parents subscribe to the Arizona Republic but hadn’t seen my article, which probably means that fewer people than I expect actually will read it. Will I get any reaction? I don’t really know many people here.

The bio note does say that I teach at ASU and MCC and lists a few of my nine books. We’ll see if anyone at either school mentions it to me.

I spoke to Marc, who was lying in bed, and told him to see a doctor for Paxil. He stopped taking it after just six months and only because he couldn’t afford it.

Even if Paxil costs $3 a pill, if it works for me, I’m willing to bankrupt myself. I felt logy during the day, but now that evening is approaching, I’m becoming more energetic.

Last night the Ativan made me kind of dizzy. I’d rather not take it, but I need sleep and can’t deal with that long-lasting night anxiety that the drug helps me with. If I take Ativan before evening, I get too groggy to function well.

On the Web and Telnet, I discovered that the Orlando Sentinel today published my candidate profile and replies to their questions on issues, which are delightfully bizarre. I’d like to see if I can get a copy from the back issue department. I’ve also seen my name in other Florida papers this week.

Anyway, being in the papers makes me feel less helpless and less hopeless. It gives me a boost of confidence even during a clinical depression.

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Tuesday, November 7, 2000

2:30 PM. It’s a chilly but bright Election Day.

I’ve just come from seeing Susan Vaughan, the psychologist, whom I liked very much. Mostly she did background stuff, but I got to talk more about what’s bothering me.

I was surprised at how sad I became in discussing the “failure” of The Silicon Valley Diet and my writing career. Though I’ve tried to deny it, I guess the primary way I’ve defined myself all my life is as a writer.

It was helpful to have other identities – as a lawyer and legal studies professor and law student and staff attorney at CGR, as a college English professor or computer education consultant, as a friend or family member – but my passion has always been writing, even I haven’t always worked very hard at it.

Susan asked me why I felt Diet was “my last chance,” and that broke me up. I’m not sure.

I guess it’s because I feel too tired and too scared to invest myself in writing more fiction when I know there won’t be a payoff. At least writing newspaper columns always gave me a more immediate payoff.

I also miss the sense of community I always had at the best points of my life: as an undergraduate and MFA student at Brooklyn College; at law school and CGR and in the gay rights community in Gainesville; at Nova and Broward Community College in Fort Lauderdale.

At ASU and MCC I feel lost and unrecognized.

Lisa emailed today, saying she’d just read about my write-in “campaign” for the U.S. Senate from Florida and that she’s now teaching at Miami-Dade Community College full-time.

Lisa’s acknowledgment of my candidacy, even though it amounts to nothing, is the kind of recognition I need.

But in talking to Susan, mentioning the high I got when I saw the nice review of Diet in Joey magazine, I said, “Shouldn’t I be getting that satisfaction from the writing itself? Or from knowing I’d written a good book?”

I need to discuss my fear of success as well as my fear of failure. I know that HMOs are stingy with therapy, but I’ll take what I can get.

I’m feeling a little bit better. Last night I had some panic but I also slept a great deal. Up from 3 AM till 5 AM, I listened to NPR’s Morning Edition, but I dozed off and didn’t wake up till 6:30 AM.

Once again I went to MCC after just throwing a flannel shirt and utility pants over my t-shirt and boxers. Doyle Burke came out of his office when he heard me ask the other adjuncts if they had read my article in the Republic – they hadn’t – and said that he had read it and wanted to offer me his congratulations.

You have to take the good stuff where and when you can get it. I read the article to my class, went over the text’s section on argumentative writing, and returned my students’ papers. As I was teaching, I had to squelch that gorge of depression rising in my stomach.

At home, I did aerobics and read the Times.

My ATM card still wasn’t working, so Bank of America ordered a new one for me and in the meantime let me deposit some checks.

I went over to Starbucks and had a small (“tall”) cup of iced tea – to see if it makes me jumpy – and I sat in the sun and read more of the paper.

When I returned from seeing Dr. Vaughan, I emailed Sat Darshan because I knew that she would have wanted to know how my session went.

Despite the record cold, today has been a cheerful, bright day, and soon the election returns will be coming in. I expect more or less a Bush Electoral College landslide, with us here knowing by around 6 PM, when the big Midwest states report their votes. Unfortunately, I think Republicans will keep control of the House as well as the Senate.

I feel sleepy now, as I do most of the time, but it beats anxiety any day. I told Susan I hope the Paxil works, and she said if it doesn’t, they’ll find me another drug that will work.

*

8 PM. The worst news just came when the networks took Florida from Gore and placed it in the “too close to call” category. It’s now hard to see how Gore can win the election. Bush had been winning the popular vote all along.

Right now Bush has 193 electoral votes with Gore getting about 163. Early on, it looked good for Gore, but then all of a sudden, once Florida was taken from him just now, and New Hampshire and Missouri were called for Bush, it seems all over.

In a way, it was easier to deal with a certain Bush victory; getting this close feels crueler. They’re blaming suspect data from precincts in Florida. But Bush can probably win even without Florida, and I’ve got a hunch he will win Florida.

I’ve been on the phone with Sat Darshan and Dad, and at the beginning all of us were happy, but now I feel gloomy. Still, I’ve forgotten about my own depression.

Hillary got elected in New York, but the Dems probably won’t take the House, so this is pretty much a GOP victory.

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Wednesday, November 8, 2000

3 PM. I feel such an overwhelming sense of depression. I don’t want to do anything but lie in bed.

Once again I became nauseated while eating my lunch vegetables. I just don’t have the appetite for them anymore, which I guess is a sign of depression.

Or else Paxil or Ativan is making me nauseated. Or maybe I have a virus; I feel so weak. Or I guess I’m anxious as well as depressed.

It’s so unseasonably cold out, and the Presidential race isn’t really decided yet, and I feel so disgusted that I’m not getting better or even stabilizing..

Last night, the exciting election news kept my mind off my depression, but ultimately it left me with a hangover. It all boils down to Florida, which will probably go to Bush when the recount is done.

Gore is winning the popular vote, but whoever wins Florida will win in the Electoral College, and it will almost certainly be Bush.

The Senate will be 51-49 Republican or maybe 50-50. The Democrats picked up only a couple of House seats, so the election results are pretty depressing.

I slept a little, I think because of the 3 mg. Ativan I took last night.

I did okay at ASU today, but I didn’t have to do much, just administer the First Year Student Survey, collect the students’ essays and let them bullshit about the election.

Friday is Veterans Day, so there are no classes, so I should feel at least a little relaxed because of that, but when I came home, I just fell apart.

I spend too much time alone. My phone calls with Sat Darshan help, but I am here in my dingy little apartment, which itself is depressing.

I didn’t exercise today, but I think I’m going to force myself to do so now. I feel sick, but I guess it’s just the depression.

Maybe after a week I can take a whole (20 mg.) Paxil tonight. Will that give me side effects? I’ll be seeing Bev Reinhart tomorrow.

I just wish I could wave a magic wand and make myself better. I can’t stop thinking of how much happier I was in Florida and wondering how I ever let this depression get this far.

While part of me expected an emotional crisis this year, I didn’t think I’d have a genuine mental illness.

I saw Ron Carlson in the elevator after my classes when I went to return the surveys, but I felt stupid about introducing myself. I just felt bad about my lack of recognition and how so few people seem to have seen my Republic essay.

Except for Greg Glau, nobody in the English Department mentioned it. Of course, I don’t really know anyone in the department except the secretaries.

I’m shaking a little now, so I must be anxious. Why can’t I just will myself to feel better, to get my brain to heal itself and start sending out some more serotonin?

I don’t have the energy to keep writing.

*

5 PM. I realize what the matter with me is today: I have a cold. The signs are now clear: scratchy throat, postnasal drip and feeling warm.

Everyone at ASU has had colds the last month, but somehow, even when my resistance must have been very low, I avoided getting sick until now. Maybe it’s the drastic change in weather.

Since I usually get a little depressed every time I get a cold, I don’t know how being sick will affect my mood. At least this explains my lack of energy.

How the hell am I going to get through the next week? Can I even take cold medicine along with all the other drugs I’m taking? I guess I can, but for now, I’ve been sucking on zinc lozenges.

I’m just about ready to give up. I still have no appetite, but I forced myself to exercise.