The "M" Word

Big step for me. I've finally given in and am trying... MEDICATION.

After a very rough year or so, and a lot of feeling like the worst mother in the world, I finally caved and talked to my doctor about the "M-word". I thought I was okay with this, I mean, I've always thought meds were a good thing if used correctly and if they are needed. I would never think any less of a person for taking meds for depression, in fact, I'm proud of of the people in my life who do what they need to do to take care of themselves and their mental and physical health.

However, it wasn't until I was holding the bottle in my hand, and saw the word "PROZAC" staring up at me, that I realized that belief does not extend to myself.

As I stood by the kitchen sink, trying to decide if I should take that first dose or not, I felt... like I was cheating. Like, maybe my problems weren't all that bad and I was just looking for a quick fix in a magic pill. I also felt like a failure, like I should have been able to fix this on my own with a handful of cashews, some vitamins, positive affirmations, meditation, and a few choice essential oils.

SOMETHING.

After all, there are about a bajillion pins on Pinterest instructing me on how to overcome my depression naturally. Oh, and all the quotes about how happiness is a choice, those too. I must not have been choosing hard enough. Or praying hard enough. Not TRYING hard enough.

I didn't realize until that moment what an enormous defeat it would feel like to take that little white pill.

But, I did it anyway.

After a few days, I noticed something: I felt so, oddly, quiet inside.

It's like, when you live with two really LOUD, rambunctious children and 80% of the time you don't get a moment of silence without someone screaming about "sharing" or singing "Let it GOOOOO" at the top of their lungs or begging for fruit snacks and more TV time... And then someone takes those children out of your house for a few hours and the sudden lack of noise is so... Obvious. You just listen to the silence because it is so novel.

I didn't realize how much constant emotional turmoil I was in until it was suddenly gone. The ever-present undercurrent of sorrow, hurt, guilt, anger, irritability, and despair had vanished.

The last few days I've been the mom I haven't been since Declan was born (my poor children!) I've been happy and productive, I've said "yes" more than "no". I've spent so much less time on my phone trying to escape and much more time playing games like I used to, before my brain broke again.

I never understood how people could CHOOSE to be happy, but now I feel as if I am in control of my emotions, rather than the other way around (as I have always felt). All my emotions are still there--I'm still tired and my kids can get on my nerves--but now I feel like I can "take a deep breath and count to 4" instead of losing my mind completely.

It hasn't been that long, and the pharmacist said it could take up to 4 weeks to feel the full effect, so maybe this is all just some crazy placebo effect, but for now, I'll take it.

I have had some side effects, so I don't know what my future relationship with this medication will be, but for the time being, the benefits definitely out weigh the bad stuff.

Here's to a better, brighter year, and a new, happier Momma!

Good-bye, 2015

2015... If I could describe you in one word, it would be "struggle"--which sounds terribly depressing (and a good bit of it was) but with struggle always comes learning and self-revelation. Both of those things are very good and productive, I'd say.

I've struggled this year, mentally, with so many issues that have plagued me for much of my life: anxiety, panic, depression, anger; emotions that often threaten to consume me and take those closest to me as collateral damage. Physically I've grappled with the same old limitations and flaws while my body and mind were challenged by new and ever more difficult challenges. I've struggled with my faith, feeling it being tested, knowing that I need to hang on with increased tenacity, and yet many times being completely unable to summon the energy or motivation to keep fighting for it, or anything else for that matter.

This year I've wrestled with inner demons and outside triggers.

Karl graduated this year and started to work full-time as a real employee of a real company (with benefits!) We are now technically "middle-class" and our living situation is quite comfortable. My children are beautiful, smart, amazing, and I love them very much. My marriage is good. We both have our flaws and our own challenges that test us and our relationship, but he is a good, hard-working man, and we try our best. We have clung together through every issue that has faced us. We love each other despite anything and everything that has tested us.

I thought for sure this was the point in my life I was waiting for, the moment I could stop struggling and finally LIVE and be happy. But that never happened.

I still feel as though I'm constantly treading water, barely able to keep my head above the surface.

My life is good! So why am I not?

This year I gained 20 lbs. I've become more addicted to escaping into my smart phone than ever before--a fact that pains me to no end, but I still feel powerless to stop it. I'm exhausted and my body seems to love to throw one thing after another at me. If it's not POTS, it's pain, if not pain then anxiety, if not anxiety, then stomach issues... I always think that if I could just get through whatever "flare" is laying me out today, I'll get a break and can get back on top of things--but the break never comes.

So, one of my revelations that I've come to this year (if you were wondering where on earth this was all going) is that I have a physical disability and a mental illness.

Ugh. I cringe just writing that. Those terms just seem so... terrible. And seriously, could I possibly any more dramatic??? But, I've realized it's true. It is my truth and I need to accept it and claim it. That's really the only way I can stop making excuses and start making accommodations. To equip myself with the tools I need to live my life.

It seems a little silly, I mean, of course I've always known that these issues were a problem, but I've tried so hard to be "normal", to not appear different or weak. 2016 is the year I finally come out of the "normal/healthy-person closet" and admit and accept what I truly am: imperfection.

From my DNA to my mind, and everything in between, I AM IMPERFECT, just like everyone else... which seems to be the hardest part to accept. I need help. I don't need a mask of ability and normalcy to hide behind. I am me, I struggle, I am imperfect, and from now on, that's okay.

This next year is going to be better than my last year (sorry, 2015), because I've learned a lot. I am positive I will still struggle, but I have come so far (and struggled for so long), I can be better. This year I will be a better wife, mother, and person. NOT perfect--as I've always aimed for--but better.


And that is okay.


So, 2015, thank you for the blessings and moments of happiness (I must acknowledge that those were there too). I really have been thoroughly blessed by my family (big and small), with Karl's job situation, with friends and support, and so many other things. I can see the good, even when I have a hard time feeling it.

However, thank you especially for the struggles. Without them I wouldn't be seeing the glimmer of light at the end of my longest, darkest tunnel.

Even if it is just a glimmer.

Good-bye, 2015.

Worries

I worry sometimes...

Ok, that's a lie, I worry ALL the time (thanks, Anxiety). Sometimes, however, the things I worry about are more justified than others. Today, I had a thought: I realized that I may have doomed my children to a horrible fate. I've thought about and "guilted" over it before, but today it really hit me so specifically that the guilt has gone to a whole new level.

See, my children each have a 50/50 chance of getting my health problems. I didn't know this when I was wishing, hoping, and praying for a baby that didn't seem like she'd ever come, and I still didn't know this when we decided to have a second little one join our family.

At the time I thought I was an anomaly. I thought my issues were mine alone; my fluky, messed up body was just a mistake. It wasn't until my second child was a few months old that I figured out what was wrong with me, and that it was a genetic condition.

Sure, there is definitely a chance that neither of them will get it, and if they did get it, this syndrome is so varying that their symptoms might be much milder than mine. On the other hand, they could be worse than I am, much, much worse :(

It's difficult to tell at this point, and so I worry.

I worry every time they wake crying in the night, thinking they might be in pain from a day of running and just being kids. I worry when my little guy gags and chokes when he eats and drinks, just like his mama. I worry when I watch my daughter walk and see her arches collapse as she over-pronates. "That's normal, they're healthy" the pediatrician tells me, and I try not to let my fears affect my little ones; it's just so hard knowing that my pediatrician said the same thing about me.

Anyway, today I was thinking, and dreaming about what my little man would end up doing with his life, and it struck me that I may have ruined him. He is so athletically inclined; at 18 months he already kicks a ball better than a lot of three year-olds I know. He loves balls of all kinds, he loves to kick and throw, and run and jump. It's fun to think of where he might go with his skills. That is, until the image pops up of a very short, painful athletic career, filled with injuries and frustrating limitations. What if I have stolen his dreams from him??

Obviously, I can't do anything about it now, so worrying and feeling guilty at this point is silly, but sometimes I just can't help it. I've never imagined a future for my babies in which they were anything but healthy and happy, and the thought of anything less is just crushing, especially knowing it would be my fault. The DNA I gave them, my egg, my genetics... Me.

Garg. Apparently I'm in a sulky mood this afternoon... I just wish I could see into the future and prepare for what lies ahead.

I hate not knowing.