A Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-December, 2000
Monday, December 11, 2000
8 PM. Things continue to be rough. Last night I slept only an hour or two but otherwise was up all night. I didn’t feel too bad, though, until morning, when the shakes and trembling set in.
I did yoga at 6 AM and before I left I took .5 mg. of Ativan. Basically I felt low-grade crummy all day until late this afternoon when I felt so bad that I had to take 2.5 mg. of Ativan, which didn’t really knock out the anxiety.
Of course, today was a stressful day with my two 2-hour sessions at ASU. I do enjoy talking to the students, and it was gratifying, if quite surprising, to hear so many of them tell me they really liked the class or say I was a great teacher.
I said I hadn’t and wouldn’t hand in my final grade rosters until the end of the week, but I deposited them at the English Department when I returned to ASU just before noon.
I again had severe flatulence and loose stools throughout the day, but I realize that is a side effect of the drug. At its mildest form, the anxiety I feel nearly all day is only one step up from the “jitteriness” I tried to deal with weeks ago.
I will call Susan tomorrow, but Dr. Roth, the one psychiatrist she and Bev agreed on, isn’t taking new patients until early March. At least I can see Dr. Mitchell in nine days. I feel I have to get off Paxil: my body is a mess and I feel as if I’m being poisoned.
Tomorrow I have to talk to Susan about different drug options and about Bev’s diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder. I believe I probably could better fit in the proposed category for the next volume of the DSM: “anxiety with depression.”
While I don’t have any appetite, I feel I need to eat more carbs because I’m shaky so much of the time.
Looking back at my life, I guess I should have seen this coming. Although I traveled a lot, I went to “safe” places like artist colonies and friends’ homes; I never went to Europe, for example. And right now, I don’t want to leave Phoenix because I couldn’t bear another change.
In talking with my English 105 students, I learned that except for their honors college, most programs at ASU suck. They told me the English Department has an especially bad reputation, which doesn’t surprise me. The Writing Program at ASU is incredibly fucked-up.
Sat Darshan called and emailed. but I kept missing her. Tomorrow she’ll be out of the office. Her sister was coming in this afternoon and staying less than 24 hours, just long enough for their father’s viewing and cremation.
This evening Libby called, and I hated to tell her how sick I’ve been. She sounded fine and everyone in Los Angeles is okay. Wyatt loves his male teacher, who Libby thinks is excellent, and Lindsay is doing even more gymnastics these days.
Over Christmas they’re taking the RV to Palm Springs and then they’ll come out here. Ordinarily I’d be thrilled – just as I would be regarding the visit of Alice and Peter on Thursday – but I’m feeling so ill that I don’t really feel up to seeing friends. Still, it will be good to force myself.
I got the Dictionary of Literary Biography’s Volume 234, American Short Story Writers After World War II, Third Series (though it says Second Series on the cover).
Others in the book include Shirley Jackson, William Harrison, Padgett Powell, Mark Richard, C.E. Poverman, Lorrie Moore, Donald Barthelme, Richard Yates and my Brooklyn College MFA classmate (in poetry) John Yau.
All the other writers have a recent photo, but they used my shaggy, bearded picture from Lincoln’s Doctor’s Dog from 1981. Oh well, maybe I’m considered a reclusive author like Pynchon.
They did include two reviews for the Silicon Valley Diet, which they said were “mostly good,” but it’s clear that my best work, according to Tom’s essay, is in the past.
I guess he’s right. Just as with the paperback version of With Hitler in New York – they used the original covers of Hitler and Dog as the other illustrations for my entry – and the Arizona Republic State Lines column, I could not get that excited about the DLB, which has a 2001 publication date.
My sweaty palms stopped for most of the day but picked up again this afternoon.
Tuesday, December 12, 2000
6 PM. I’m pretty shaky right now.
I called Dr. Mitchell at 1 PM after I had my appointment with Susan, leaving a message that the twice-daily .5 mg. of Ativan wasn’t managing my generalized anxiety and asking if I could take a larger dose or get Klonopin, which is a longer-acting benzodiazepine and used more often in these circumstances.
Susan said there’s no reason for me to suffer when my symptoms could be managed better. She thought it was realistic to see Dr. Mitchell next week since I couldn’t get an appointment with another M.D. for a while.
While Susan agrees that I do have generalized anxiety disorder, she feels I also have minor depression, which the Paxil, even 10 mg., seems to alleviate. I might be one of those rare cases where my anxiety is separate from my depression and independent of it.
The anxiety I’m feeling now feels five or six notches up from the jitteriness I had a few weeks ago. Susan recommended a book, The Anxiety Disease, which she thinks will explain my condition to me. Unlike depression, anxiety isn’t talked about much.
I need to stop writing now.
*
8 PM. When it became obvious that Dr. Mitchell wasn’t going to return my call, I cried out of frustration, which actually felt good, and then I just took another Ativan. I have enough pills so that I can double the dosage for the next week.
Susan said I should call her if “our plan doesn’t work,” but I guess I’ll see if Dr. Mitchell calls tomorrow – though that means staying offline and off the phone.
I do feel a little less anxious now. Last night I slept really well, but as soon as I woke up, the trembling and sweating and anxiety began.
At Mesa Community College early today, I told Doyle that I don’t think I can do the 7:30 AM English 102 next term and explained about my emotional problems and my sense that I didn’t do a good job.
While he hadn’t talked to Jeff about the evaluation, Doyle said he believed I was a good teacher.
I decided not to have a final and instead spend today and Thursday grading my students’ papers in front of them while they’re writing a final essay. I got to about half of the students today, and I’ll do the other half on Thursday.
For whatever reason, my palms were dry as I graded papers, but after I left MCC at 8:50 AM, they started to sweat as I began to feel anxiety.
So I figured I’d exercise. After working out to a Body Electric tape, I got out my boxing gloves and beat up the wall systematically, getting at least some aerobic effect. Boxing must have unleashed testosterone because I was able to masturbate successfully, a rarity since I’ve been on Paxil. Of course, that reduced some stress.
When I got out of the shower, the UPS man was at my door. Amazon.com sent Gloria Klaiman’s Night and Day: The Double Lives of Artists in America (Prager, 2001).
She has a preface and an introductory chapter, “The Artists Among Us,” and then 21 chapters focused on the stories of “working” artists. Chapter 11 is “Richard Grayson: A Hobby at the Core of One’s Life.”
I didn’t read it until this afternoon, and while her interview with me from Saratoga, California came out rough, it tells my story pretty well and I recognize my voice and my persona.
I’m proud of it, as I am of my Dictionary of Literary Biography entry even if I am the one who mostly wrote it. I showed the Klaiman book to Susan and gave her a copy of With Hitler in New York. Susan is really the person I feel closest to as a partner in getting me through this.
It’s funny: Before going into her office, where I knew I’d feel fidgety, I walked to the McClintock Road overpass and watched the cars whiz by under me on the freeway. It somehow calmed me to see the traffic going by. I feel better outdoors, although I still feel there’s a possibility of my becoming agoraphobic again.
Susan said I need to prevent that, and that doing what I’m now doing – saving my Ativan for when I’m desperate – is not a good strategy. She said that her patients who take their Klonopin regularly during the day, whether they need it or not, do better.
Anyway, at home since noon, I sat outside a little even though it was cloudy and got up to only 63°. Mostly I read, but I felt better for a little while and lay down comfortably. Even without taking a trazodone, I’m getting drowsy now.
I got great email from Timmy in Tennessee, Ray at Nova, and from Jen, whose subject line was “Earth to Richie” and said she’s been worried about me. I have lots of good friends, even new ones. Sweet.
If I were feeling better, my life would be wonderful.
Wednesday, December 13, 2000
5 PM. Last night I turned on the TV and heard the U.S. Supreme Court had ruled in Bush v. Gore.
As expected, the five conservative justices shut down the recount as a violation of equal protection due to the differing standards for determining the intent of voters.
Two other justices agreed with the equal protection argument but wanted the Florida Supreme Court to determine standards and go ahead with the recount. So tonight, five weeks after the election, Gore conceded and Bush declared victory.
The right-wing justices “elected” Bush in a decision that, as Justice Breyer’s dissent stated, means a loss of credibility for the Court. So much for states’ rights and judicial restraint. Bush couldn’t have come into office in a worse way, and I’m glad about that.
Today I still felt crummy. Since Dr. Mitchell hasn’t called, I made an appointment with Susan’s husband, the internist Dr. Kent Brubaker, tomorrow in northwest Phoenix at 1:45 PM. Dad said he’d drive me if I’m too nervous. It is far.
I called Bree to let Susan know so that she could tell her husband about my condition. I’m beginning to feel hopeless about my anxiety and don’t really know what any doctor can do for me.
Early this morning I went online and then drove to Kinko’s to copy the pages on me from the DLB and Night and Day.
Sat Darshan had the most horrible day yesterday. Her sister wouldn’t participate in the service for their father. Although Ellen seemed happy when Sat Darshan said the Shema, she left during the Sikh prayers and wouldn’t stay for the carrying of the container by Ravinder.
Ellen took an early flight home to Seattle, and Sat Darshan told me she doesn’t expect to see her sister ever again.
Later, Gurudaya and Ravinder got into a big hassle, and a Christmas play at the preschool was ruined because Nirankar insisted on taking a photo of Kiran with Santa even though Kiran was terrified of him.
Now Sat Darshan is angry with Ellen, Nirankar and Ravinder. She’s also upset being sued by a credit card company that’s threatening to put a lien on her house.
Still, despite all that, Sat Darshan doesn’t seem to have anxiety. So why do I?
Thursday, December 14, 2000
8 PM. Last night I fell asleep sometime during Felicity, which I realized only this morning when my students were talking about the cliffhanger ending.
I went to MCC without exercising or showering; I just put on some clothes and got to campus at 7:10 AM. In class, I graded the remaining papers in front of them while they wrote their analysis of TV shows and their self-evaluation.
When I told them I probably wouldn’t teach again, the students went bananas. Half of them had registered for my English 102 during the same time because it was listed in my name.
So after class, I “un-retired,” telling Doyle that I would teach the class after all. He smiled and told me that had never taken my name off the schedule.
I selected a research and writing textbook similar to the one I used at Nova, and I’ll bring in articles from newspapers and magazines as a supplement.
Back at home, I threw laundry into the washing machine. But when I heard they were cutting off the water to the apartments around mine, I decided not to exercise; instead, I washed up with whatever water I could get out of the bathroom as the faucets stopped working.
Luckily, my washer went through its cycle, and after putting my clothes in the dryer, I went to Albertsons for bottled water and a few groceries.
Oh, Dr. Mitchell finally called last night. He said I need to stay on Paxil and that I should save the Ativan until I’m desperate and that it would take away about 70% of the edge off.
“You need to learn to deal with the anxiety,” he said.
Well, I’m not going back to him. I’ll cancel my appointment and call United Health Care.
Although I was scared about driving to Northwest Phoenix, I told Dad there was no reason for him to drive me. “I don’t want to feel like an invalid,” I said.
Leaving at noon, I took I-10 to the Black Canyon Freeway (I-17, the highway to Flagstaff) for the first time and arrived in the area over an hour early.
I drove around, exploring, before going into the office, where I filled out insurance forms and a medical history and read my MCC students’ self-evaluations, which were filled with bullshit about what a great teacher I was.
Dr. Brubaker is a personable man, and his wife had told him about me, though I told my own story.
He said it’s hard to figure out if Paxil is making my anxiety worse or if I need a higher dosage. Actually, I think I’ve been feeling slightly better every day as the 20 mg. dosage gets out of my system.
Dr. Brubaker talked to me, examined me and had his nurse take blood and get a urine sample from me. He wondered if my elevated potassium level might mean an adrenal problem.
Anyway, we decided to try this: I’ll go off Paxil and trazodone and start taking the antidepressant Serzone, which is related to trazodone.
Starting at 50 mg., I’ll titrate the dosage up every three to four nights, assuming I get no bad side effects. He said I might get depressed again until we get to a dosage that works for me – if it does.
For the anxiety, I’ll take Klonopin twice a day until I feel less anxious, and I can use Ativan when I’m feeling really bad.
In a month or so we should know whether this is helping. I can call Dr. Brubaker – or as he said, “talk to my wife” – and I’ll see him in a month or so.
I didn’t get out of the office till 3:30 PM, so I faced rush hour traffic going east on Glendale Avenue to the Squaw Peak Freeway and over to the 202 and then the 101.
I was at Osco at 4:10 PM, and while I was waiting for the prescription, I called Mom to tell her what was going on. Unfortunately, the pharmacy was out of both drugs, so I’ll have to start on Serzone tomorrow night.
I did take trazodone tonight. My most annoying side effect – I think it’s the trazodone – is the afternoon flatulence, and I hope I don’t have it with Serzone. But I now know how bad the side effects are, not whether there are any.
Alice called from the Crowne Plaza at Metrocenter at 3 PM, but she hasn’t returned my call.
Friday, December 15, 2000
7:30 PM. I will take 50 mg. of Serzone before going to bed; a little while ago I took my first Klonopin. Of course I’m a little antsy about side effects, but let’s hope for the best.
Susan left a message this afternoon, thoughtfully wondering how I was doing, and she said I could try to get her this weekend if I needed to. I returned her message, explaining I was out most of the day and wasn’t able to start the medication yet.
Last night I had anxiety dreams about stopping Paxil and trazodone. I was up for several hours, but after obsessing about driving to see Alice – we spoke at 10 PM and I said I couldn’t do it today and didn’t know if I could drive with the new meds over the weekend, so she said Peter could drive her out here to see me one morning – I got out of bed and graded the MCC final essays. Then I got back into bed.
Despite some anxious dreams, I slept till 7 AM. Feeling okay, I decided to chance the late rush hour drive to Phoenix to see if I could meet Alice, so I left at 8:15 AM.
Traffic wasn’t too bad, and I found the Crowne Plaza at 9 PM, but Alice wasn’t in her room. I left her a message that I would wait in the lobby till 10 AM.
Alice came down about 9:30 AM after being out at Metrocenter (a super-regional mall) for a couple of hours.
We had coffee and grapefruit juice at the hotel restaurant. She said I didn’t look bad for someone who’d sounded so awful on the phone. They got into Phoenix early yesterday and went all over the city, getting lost several times.
Even though Alice was tired last evening, she accompanied Peter to Scottsdale for a terrible production of a play. They have separate rooms at the hotel (at $60 a night) because, like most theater people, Peter always sleeps late.
Anyway we chatted until about 11 AM, with Peter joining us for the final 15 minutes. Tomorrow they’re driving to Sedona, so I’m glad I didn’t have to make Peter come all the way to Mesa.
Today they were planning on going to the Frank Lloyd Wright center, Taliesin West, and seeing Alice’s client in Scottsdale.
Alice said she liked the Biltmore and wanted to go back there for tea. She and Peter want to go either to Casino Arizona or to the Fort McDowell reservation casino, and they have tickets for a Sunday matinee.
Alice loved the Burton Barr Library in Phoenix (so do I) and said she’d go to the Phoenix Art Museum but not the Heard because she has zero interest in Southwestern art.
Both Alice and Peter thought our Arizona sunset was gorgeous – they almost always are – and they enjoyed the “warm” temperatures.
I hugged Alice goodbye, shook Peter’s hand and said I’d be in New York in May.
As I drove south on the Black Canyon Freeway, I decided to get off at Indian School and drive over to 26th Street to see if Sat Darshan wanted to go to lunch. But the receptionist at her office told me she was out today.
Later, when I called, Sat Darshan sounded pretty sick with her cold. Kiran is sick, too, but Ravinder had to go to back to New York to earn cab-driving money.
I guess having to deal with her father’s death forced Sat Darshan to hold her cold in abeyance for a while, but she never really recovered from it. I told her to rest up this weekend.
Stopping at ASU, I checked my mailbox at the English Department. The ASU Insight newspaper for staff put The Silicon Valley Diet In their monthly list of books by faculty, using a photo of the cover and my own precis, with quotes from Publishers Weekly.
The English Department has advertised additional faculty associate and instructor positions for fall 2001, but of course I’m not going to apply.
I figure I’ll have ASU and MCC on my résumé for a full academic year, and that’s more than enough.
Peter had asked if Phoenix was a “pit stop” for me, and I said I didn’t know but that I hoped that teaching first-year composition would be a pit stop.
As for my own graduate classes next term, Dad said I should just take classes I enjoy, the way I did at FAU, FIU and Teachers College. He’s right.
Home at 1 PM, I spoke to Sat Darshan and Mom and then got a call from Dr. Brubaker’s office. His nurse told me that all the tests had come back “perfect.”
I picked up my meds at Osco, and back at home I got a call from Changing Hands Bookstore telling me that The Anxiety Disease by David Sheehan, a USF professor, was in.
So I drove over there and picked up the $6.99 paperback, and rather than fight the rush hour traffic on Guadalupe or Baseline, I ordered a bagel and Diet Sprite and read the first few chapters as I sat by the window as it got dark. I think the book is excellent.
Today is probably the best day I’ve had in this whole month. While I had some anxiety, I didn’t feel too bad.
Monday, December 18, 2000
8 PM. The planet keeps revolving and rotating, and the winter solstice is a few days away. After that, the days will start to get longer.
I was half-asleep last night when Jeff called, basically to tell me he’s found a students’ rights organization called FIRE that he thinks can help him with his problems at the nursing school.
Jeff said he was taping Showtime’s Queer As Folk in case I wanted to see it. He’s sweet but didn’t want to see me this week.
I was up late this morning – 8 AM – and wondered I was starting to get depressed again now that I’m off Paxil and may be at too low a dose for Serzone to work – though tonight I’m going up to 100 mg.
I was light-headed this morning, which was upsetting, but at least I didn’t have to drive far and the symptom passed after a while. How nice it would be to have an effective antidepressant without any side effects.
After handing in my MCC grades at Records and Registration, I had a real iced tea at Starbucks, and it didn’t seem to trigger any anxiety.
Patrick emailed, telling me I didn’t need to apologize for not writing, He said he admired me for having the courage to move around the country and for always managing to fit in.
He’s doing his final grades at Broward Community College and chastising himself for not being more proactive with students who don’t do well in his classes.
Patrick said that Dr. Robinson, Betty’s replacement as English Department chair at South Campus, has had struggles with depression and is “always having her medications adjusted.”
Sat Darshan said she’s still wiped out, and I told her it’s not just her cold, it’s her father’s death and everything that came with it.
Josh sent her a nice condolence note and said that he too is depressed and that since adolescence he’s felt that life is basically torture.
This afternoon I got out my application to Ragdale, asking for two weeks in June or July. VCCA is too expensive, and at this point I don’t think I can get into MacDowell or Yaddo or Millay.
I can barely keep my eyes open and I haven’t even taken Serzone yet.