I have three days to find a psychiatrist to re-fill my anti-depressants before I run out of them. I don't know why I keep procrastinating it. But I keep procrastinating.
Part of me knows I'm doing it because I want to be off of them. We're seriously considering having another child next year, and I don't want to be relying on them while pregnant (or trying to get pregnant). Frankly, they're not safe. Sure, sure, if the only alternative to NOT having them while pregnant is suicide or something, then I can see where the drugs would win out, but luckily, that's not ME, folks. Never attempted or thought about it. At least not seriously (and before y'all get your panties in a bunch thinking that I'm in denial, I'll be the first to admit that playing with thoughts of suicide has got to be a rite of passage for any hormonal teenage girl. Actually getting to the place where one would think the world/they/everyone would be better off by doing it? Never been there. Hope I never will be). And so to me, the health of my child is obviously the bigger issue here. You know, the health of the unborn-we're-sort-of-thinking-about-it child.
But I also know how dangerous it is to completely stop taking anti-depressants without slowly weaning yourself off of them. So, I'm encouraging myself to figure something out. I don't want to end up like those people who are looking for their next fix and end up begging any doctor they can find to prescribe something for them. The only reason I'm in this predicament in the first place is because A. Our insurance change and B. My psychiatrist closed his private practice.
I also have a list of errands to complete that is a mile long. Well, at least 3/4 of a mile. It has been put on hold, however, because I have two sons home from school (preschool is totally a school), and this is #3's second day of sickness. The thought of dragging a poor fever-ridden child into stores and shops and places just to get my stuff done doesn't make sense (nor would I ever do that), and now that the preschooler is sick, it would be two sick kids. [Patrons, you may thank me.] It also doesn't help that there seems to be so much stuff to do. Why do I do stuff?? Who cares about stuff!?
Some of the lessons I think my Depression has taught me have been good. I've learned patience and letting go. But here's the problem: Now I'm feeling better. I'm happier! I'm functioning at a high-level again. So, why have I regressed in the lessons-taught-by-Depression? I'm filling up my schedule again because I'm better. I'm demanding more of myself and other people and my life in general because I'm better. You know, "better." And yet, yet, yet, yet... I guess I'm not? Or at least I haven't learned my lessons very well?
I think this part is the test. Did I learn enough? Have I? Well, on a life-scale --DUH! No. But with this particular juncture in my life, I am starting to realize that in order to maintain any semblance of sanity, happiness, and/or functionality, I need that patience, and I need to let go. Just because so-and-so takes her kids to the library and jets around town looking for educational things for her kids to do does not me I have to. Just because so-and-so couple are amazing at social functions and having parties and people over does not mean I have to. I can let go, man. Just because I was invited to a bridal shower or baby shower or wedding reception or the crowning of a new Queen of England (if that ever happens, I am SO there!), doesn't mean I have to.
I can let go of my whiny self-doubt that I really CAN'T keep this family together for 6 more months. Can I let go of the overwhelming expectations I have of myself and my husband and my family? Some of it, yes, I think I can. I can realize that I'm going to have to pick and choose what's really important to me and let the rest of it go.
This overwhelming, suddenly deep and crazy itch has taken over me. It's like that song from the movie Prince Caspian (yes, I know, weird reference, but it's the best way to describe it):
It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry...
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry...
It feels this way. As I'm picking out paint colors. As I'm hanging pictures on a wall. As I'm making dinner each night. As I'm helping my kids with homework or piano or lego projects. This overwhelming feeling of...something. Isn't that strange? It's something. But I have no idea what it is. But it's building. When I dream, it's still there. When I try to do something without the toddler knocking things over, it's still there.
What is it? If I knew, I wouldn't be blogging about it.
Is it a premonition of changes to come? Change, yes. What kind, though? Good, bad? Tolerable, tragedy? Are we going to move? Have twins? Will there be death, despair, destruction? I don't know. But the itch is there and it won't leave. It won't dissipate. It's getting stronger.
Blah!
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On an unrelated note, there is some good news. Amanda D, that glorious woman, with her amazing connections, helped me get a good deal on my new Blendtec Blender! And I picked it up yesterday! It is more amazing than I ever dreamed it would be. I seriously think I shed tears of joy as I blended this morning. *sniff
6 comments:
I always have so many comments while I'm reading your post and then forget them when I hit the comment form....
Anyway, one thing is that I totally know what you mean about not being that mom who does all the educational things/takes them to story time, etc. I always feel guilty that my kids got the crap end of the stick on that one, but guess what? It's not happening and I have NO idea how anybody makes it happen amidst the busy-ness of life. I have pretty much let it go, though, realizing that although I know what my kids are missing, they don't for the most part. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?
It's hard to just let it go, though, so I just allow myself a second to feel guilty and then walk away from the computer because it usually leaves my brain in 2.4 seconds, like everything else.
And hey, you're not doctor shopping for anti-depressants. If you were looking for oxycodone, I'd see a red flag, but anti-depressants are not that category. Go get them! Feel well. You're worth it. And worry about the baby issue when the time rolls around -- not now. You've got a few months where you don't even need to think about the medicine and how it will affect your unborn child. Don't let that be Satan's tool to keep you from being and feeling your best.
Love ya.
Find a doctor, dude.
Hurray for happy-making appliances!
OH, I love that song from Prince Caspian. I know you've probably gotten lots of book recommendations through the years, but these are MUST READS if you have mood issues, seriously. The Depression Cure and Happy at Last. Amazing insights in both of them and very easy to read. So, I think antidepressants definitely have their place, there are clearly some other things in our lives to look at too. Best wishes to you as you consider life-changing decisions. Sometimes it's exciting. Sometimes it's positively nerve-wracking to take the plunge into the territory of the unknown and the unexplored.
*Insert hug from me here*
So glad you're loving the new blender. I thought of you as I made a pumpkin smoothie this morning. It was good too. MMmm.
I hear ya when you're talking about that "itch." You know somethings coming, but you don't know what. It seems like, for me, sometimes something happens and sometimes it doesn't.
I'm with Julie - she said it so perfectly. Worry about medication and babies when that time comes. You're awesome.
Will your PCP spot you some refills while you're between psychiatrists?
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