When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
I had my three month check up with my psychopharmacologist today. How am I? Steady. Sturdy. Stable. Same. He and I go back thirty years. We’re like an old married couple. I know he can tell how I am from the sound of my voice more than anything I say. When I found Dr. Mas, it was after ten years of misdiagnosis. Many doctors, many meds, many bouts of mania and depression that looked like weight game and weight loss and bad writing and worse sex and navy blue backless dresses, and loneliness and isolation and confusion. What helped me trust Dr. Mas, even though I really resisted the diagnosis and the medication, was that he cared about my writing. He knew that people complained of Lithium making them flat, robbing them of their creativity. He said he would work with me and find the right dosage. For thirty years I’ve been steady, sturdy, stable. Same. I’ve written three books and co-wrote three others. I have ideas all the time. I take my meds every day and even though I don’t go to the moon, I don’t sink beneath the waves.
What keeps you going?
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Betsy Lerner 
Remarkable journey you’ve had – there’s nothing better than finding someone like Dr. Mas. I feel the same way about “my” Dr. Smith.
What keeps me going are many things. Starting at the bottom – coffee. Next comes quiet, although it’s hardly achievable for long stretches with my little dog who is 5 lbs and rustles about, snorts and snores like he’s 50 lbs. Criticism, or snarky reviews (believe it or not – I’ll show them), but mostly it’s encouragement/praise.
“What keeps you going?”
Inertia. Fear. The usual suspects.
Wow, great post. I think you found a compassionate doctor and that has helped make a beautiful difference.
Being where I want to be, with people I want to be with and eating/drinking/smoking/strumming what I want keeps me going.
Yesterday, an elderly gentleman came into the Post Office lobby in town to get his mail. While there he dropped his drawers so he could tuck in his shirt and adjust his shorts, unconcerned about an audience. It wasn’t like he was exposing himself or anything, he was just seeking comfort in the air conditioned lobby on a hot, humid day. Shit like that gives me a chuckle and keeps me going, too.
probiotics–a nurse practitioner mentioned them years ago and I finally got some. Miraculous. I’m new again.
What keeps me going? The alternative sucks or maybe it doesn’t. Not ready to find out quite yet.
Coffee, books that don’t suck, the doggos, the right antidepressant, the river, you guys