Warning: It's long. Get comfortable.
It's been a long week...well, a long few months...aww heck! It's been a freakin' roller coaster! :)
And sometimes, I have to admit that I can't do everything, all by myself...and I hate that. I hate
feeling inadequate. I loathe the thought of asking for help or
admitting that I need it. That is just part of my personality. I don't really consider it a flaw, because it has kept me pretty self motivated and self reliant, both of which have served me well in my life.
And then, about 7 years ago, I hit a wall. Well, it was more of a wake-up, "How did I end up like this?" Looking back, post-partum depression was probably the instigator, but I was so used to simply "making things work" that I didn't take time to see the signs. That, and my then-husband going in and out of jail, drugs, and excessive drinking weren't helping my stress levels.
I had just started back to school after E was born and was in the Nursing Program. I don't remember now how it came to me, but somehow I recognized that I was not feeling normal, happy, content,
functional. I made an appointment at the Student Health Clinic and through tears, told the provider that I thought I needed an anti-depressant. I completely broke down, sobbing, and saying how much of a failure I felt by asking for medication, but I didn't know what else to do. He asked for details of my life at the time and the past year, which I gave him. And I can only think what must have been going through his head, but he did (very professionally) explain the mechanisms of our brains and bodies and that, with stress, chemicals we need to
function can sometimes be thrown "out of whack." After that explanation, and having someone else reiterate to me my life stresses, especially after having a baby, I was able to see the logic. And, after a few months, I was able to realize the stress coping mechanisms were so much more effective with the extra
neurotransmitters :)
After a year, I was able to taper myself of my medication. Life was good. I was close to graduating with my Bachelor's in Nursing, looking at starting a new career. I also had the responsibility of being a single mom of the most adorable toddler. I love change. I love starting new journeys. I was excited to start our new life...somewhere. Then I met D, to which was added a whole new dimension to our lives. Long story short, we were married and moved to SLC, he was starting school and I started working to get him through school. A year later, we added another beautiful baby to our mixed family. I was more aware of the threats of PPD this time and had talked with my OB. We planned and prepared, but being prepared helped me to know what to expect. And, somehow, I found the coping skills I needed. PPD found no place that time.
And then...life. D's first tumor surgery, waiting 3 months for a diagnosis, D's second surgery to remove metastatic lymph nodes and muscle, starting chemotherapy. Oh, yeah, and I started working full time again, night shift of course. By summer time, I realized I was again in a state of fog. I wanted to be Super Mom and Super Wife and Super Nurse and Super...just superwoman. What's wrong with that?
Oh, right. That's not physiologically possible.
Shucks. So, what did I do? I put off going to my doctor. Why, you ask? Cuz I have a little voice in my head that tells me I need to be perfect and that I don't need to burden anyone else. I waited a year too long, but eventually admitted I needed help.
Why am I writing all this? Mostly for myself, so I can visually see my progress, recession, and progress again. Also, maybe someone else needs to hear that it's okay to not be perfect. I recently, unintentionally, stopped my medication. I ran out, forgot to get the refill, kept forgetting to pick it up. Honestly, it was unintentional. Then, after a few days, I was feeling fine so I figured I'd try going a little longer and see how I did. Maybe I'll be okay.
Yeah, no.
Yesterday I was back into a fog. I broke down. It wasn't pretty. I promised myself I would pick up my medication today. Then I start all over.
I'm not perfect. I am a working mother and family bread-winner. My husband has Cancer. My children are young and vulnerable, yet amazingly resilient. I'm tired and the sight of laundry gives me a head ache. And, even though I'd like to be, I know I'm not Super Woman, nor am I expected to be. So, as much as I don't like the idea of succumbing to my weaknesses, I will accept the help of this little pill. I want to be a positive influence for my family, and if this will help, I will accept. And I can't wait to go home, hug my babies and read a bed-time story!
