Friday, October 06, 2006

Zoloft, 50mg, p.o. q am for depression and anxiety.

I read the following on Dooce, a "mommy blog":

"Sometimes I worry that the most vivid memory you are going to have of me from this time is the scowl on my face. Often I am ashamed that I am not the mother I thought I was going to be.

I have become depressed again. Almost as depressed as I was two years ago when I had to check myself into the hospital, and it has everything to do with stress, recent stress that has threatened to change and devastate our lives. I have often described depression as the complete inability to cope with stress, and although I think my own depression is manageable with medication — medication that I am still taking every day — it tends to flare up in a debilitating way when I’m thrust into very stressful situations. I keep trying to claw my way up out of this, but for the last month I have found it almost impossible to make it through the day without putting my face into a pillow and screaming until I cannot sense the world around me.

You deserve better than this, better than the look of absolute desperation I carry in my eyes all day long. I should be more playful, should sing more songs, color more pictures, but I’m sometimes afraid that if I attempt any of these things you will see through it and know that I am lying. Right now I can’t see the world in anything but shades of very pale gray. I had hoped that I would never find myself this low again — I would not wish this crushing emptiness on my worst enemy — but now that I am here I’m not quite sure what to do this time, except trust that you and your father will stick by me, will be here when I do feel better."

I cry because Abigail deserves a better mom. She deserves a mom who can handle life- who can enrich her life- who can be a role model for her- who can have a heart full of genuine joy. I cry because I know what that depression feels like; I know how lonely it is and how much it hurts. And I cry because I fear that is where I am headed. I don't want that. I am fighting against that grayness with everything I have, and with a lot I don't have. But I see it happening. I see myself crying over commercials. I feel my eyes well over passing thoughts. I feel the stress in my neck and my back and the back of my throat and my stomach every time I try to swallow.

Like Dooce, I am good at appearing happy. I am good at making other people laugh. I am good at hiding the hurting and confusion and anger. I am good at flying under the "concern radar." But I am choosing to tell you because I feel it getting more and more real every day, and I don't want to end up where I was last November... or where I was in the 8 months following Abigail's birth. I am scared that is where I will end up, so tomorrow I will fill my prescription.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm still praying for you. And you are a GREAT mother so please don't doubt that.

If you ever want to move out to Seattle, I will do what I can to help you. But I know you JUST moved to Penn. I figure I am a pretty permanant person in your life. I'm not going anywhere. I will always be here for you, distance or not.

Moriah said...

Hey girl,
I can't pretend to know what depression is like and I don't want to say any simple, heartless phrases like "It will be okay." All I can say is another simple, but hopeful phrase - God is there for you, 24/7, and He is orchestrating your life to bring Him the most glory. How amazing is that! Turn to His Word; the Psalms are packed full of examples of God's faithfulness and David's mourning that you can identify with.
I wish I could be there with you. I seriously considered how I could come out to see you and if I didn't have a kid to feed I would be there. Like Ka said, I am there for you, no matter how many miles apart. I love you girl and you are in my prayers.

Mandy said...

I'm so proud of you for recognizing what you were feeling and for being strong enough to reach out to others. I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you more.

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