Depressed? Nah.

I’ve had some questions about how I’ve been feeling since Jessica arrived, and I thought it warranted a blog post.  The long story short is that I’ve suffered from bouts of major depression and anxiety since I was in high school, was diagnosed in college, and had a major episode during our stint overseas.  However, when we moved home from England last April and I found out I was pregnant, I quit my medication cold turkey (which, for the record, I don’t recommend…ever).

So here we are now, almost a year later.

I won’t lie and say it was always pretty.  Once I made it through the withdrawal, I suffered from a condition known as “first trimester.”  It wasn’t pretty.  But I don’t know if it was uglier for me than it was for any other women with two active children and a husband still overseas for seven more weeks.

Then, I suffered from a terrible bout of “it’s getting dark earlier.”  It did have me craving a Celexa, but I survived thanks to my fabulous husband and family.

Towards the end of my pregnancy I ran into “the end of pregnancy blues” that are often accompanied by a lack of sleep and severe exhaustion because you’re the size of a house.  But I actually think I managed to handle them pretty well.

Of course, after Jessica was born I was visited by “the baby blues.”  Been there, done that, wrote the book.

So that brings us to where we are today.  And I won’t lie and say that being a mother to three children (five and under) is easy.  There are days I starting counting down to bedtime (usually on my fingers, because my kids have sucked all the intelligence right out of me) shortly after we get up in the morning.  But overall, I’m feeling pretty good about life.

I’m loving every second of Jessica, and I know that’s helping.  The thought that she *might* be our last (my husband is feeling pretty “done” after three girls…I’m not convinced) gives me plenty of cause to cherish every second.  And I’m not sure if it’s because this is my third and Marcus and I have this parenting thing down, or if it’s because Jessica is such a good baby…but I feel pretty on top of things.

For the first time in a long time (ever?) I feel like I’ve got things under control.  I’m a good mom.  Not perfect, but good.  Some days I’m great.

So depressed?   Nah.

It hibernates.  Will it rear its ugly head again?  Perhaps.  Probably.  Maybe. One day.

And I’ll be ready.

Who Does This?

Who gets themselves all into a tizzy about something, without going through the proper channels and looking for the easiest solution? Who forgets that when there are thousands that have gone before you, your problem isn’t unique and there’s an answer somewhere?

**Raises hand in the air, timidly**

Yep, that’s me.

Life is falling back into place here, and the anxiety has subsided. And all because I did what I should have done from the beginning, and asked for help.

Ahh…I can sleep again.

Breathe in, Breathe Out

Every once in awhile I find myself incredibly anxious. It’s a part of who I am, and I work on ways to handle the anxiety and still make it through the day.

A major part of that is understanding what is making me anxious.

Today I am anxious because the movers are finally coming to put the roll-top desk together at the new house. I’m anxious because I’ll have to be there (without Marcus) with the girls while I wait for them, and I’m not sure what time they’ll arrive.

I’m anxious because Courtney is going to watch the girls so I can get a much needed break. I’m anxious because I hope Erica is good. And then I am anxious because I’m going to the new knitting group I have been attending, where I don’t really feel that I belong yet. And I’m working on a sock design that one of the members is attempting for me, and she’s going to knit it and hate it or think it’s terrible and then won’t want to be friends with me anymore.

And then tomorrow a girl from high school and her two kids are coming over. There is absolutely nothing to be anxious about…nothing. But I am, nonetheless.

I’m anxious about how I’ve been with the girls lately. Samantha is really testing the boundaries, and Erica is as strong-willed as ever. They are requiring constant attention, and we’re working on their behavior, which is draining.

I know…these sound like little things-irrational things. But that’s part of what it is to suffer from depression and anxiety. I cannot stop thinking about these little things. They make new worried, upset, and make the entire day a chore for me, where I want to go to bed and wake up tomorrow, where it’s gone.

The worst part is that my anxiety right now isn’t this out of control anxiety, but instead, it’s this calm anxiety, if that makes sense. My heart is racing, but I don’t have any emotion about it.

It doesn’t make sense…I know. But I feel a little better for having blurted it all out.

Obsessed or Accountable: Deep Thoughts about my Weight Loss

For someone like me, who suffers from depression and anxiety, a lot of lines in life become blurred. It’s all too easy for something that I enjoy or something that I am working at to become an obsession, instead of just something that I am doing.

It’s happened with knitting in the past, and I’ve had to work hard to find a balance. It just recently happened with the Twilight books–and I ignored everything and everyone else until these were completed (but I hear I’m not the only one who feels this way).

I’ve also found that it’s happening with my weight loss. It started as a necessary measure because my clothes and rings weren’t fitting anymore. I also wanted to be at my best for my sister’s wedding in May, because those pictures will be around forever.

But I see so clearly what happened. There is so much going on right now–travel, plans to move home, anxiety about leaving friends…and there is so much going on that I can’t control. So what was something that I was holding myself accountable for by posting and weighing in quickly became something that I was obsessed with.

I was weighing myself daily–not eating if I felt that I’d eaten too much the day before, feeling guilt and shame if I overate. And I wasn’t seeing myself clearly anymore.

So, I have to decide how to find a balance. How do I get to my goal weight without making it an obsession? How do I learn to accept myself as I am, regardless of the number on the scale?

I thought about it while I went for a run this morning.

At least that’s something.

But I may cut back on my weight loss updates here. Instead of weekly, I think I’ll move to bi-weekly, and have Marcus hide the scale in the meantime.

After all, they are just numbers.

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

Though I’ve mentioned briefly that I suffer from depression and anxiety, I’ve written past posts with the intention of glossing over this part of my life.  I’m not embarrassed, because I realize that real, true depression and anxiety are chemical imbalances.  Still, they have a stigma with them, and since I know many of my friends and family read my blog, I hesitated to come right and and reveal this part of me openly, honestly, and in writing.

However, last week I received some calls for content on Associated Content that related to psychological disorders, and I realized that maybe the time had finally come to be admit the truth to the masses.  I am depressed.

After a long struggle filled with counseling and reading, I did decide to treat my problem with medication.  I’m not ashamed, because I know that I am really and truly sick.  I did everything that is suggested in order to treat depression without medication–counseling, exercise, keeping motivated and out of the house every day, doing things I enjoy like writing, reading and knitting, eating right, and the rest of the list.  But I wasn’t any better.  For me, medication was the right choice.  I can’t explain to you what it was like for me when I was at my lowest…mostly because I don’t want to relive that pain…ever.

Of course, I still pursue other avenues to treat my depression, including acupuncture and herbal supplements.  But for now, I have accepted that depression and anxiety are an illness like diabetes, and that it’s alright to treat them as such.

At any rate, the pieces have published at Associated Content now, one about communicating with a doctor about psychological medications, and one about evaluating the effectiveness of a psychological drug.

And really, I feel a weight off of my shoulders, sharing this part of my life with you.