I went to the doctor today. If you knew me you'd know what a huge deal that is in itself. I hired a babysitter, which i can't afford, so that i could go alone. I have been unwell for awhile. Unwell in a way that i can't talk to people about because i am so terrified of being judged. I have been slowly seeping into this pit of despair and anxiety. You may have noticed i am a train wreck waiting to happen.
Twelve years ago i was thrown into a pit of despair that was so complete that it has made me hesitate before every step i have taken since. At the end of that horrible time in my life i ended up in a local mental hospital because of a purposeful overdose on prescrition medicine. My despair was so consuming that while waiting in my doctors office i poured through his "Compendium of Pharmaceuticals" so that i could determine the exact lethal dose of all the medications i was taking. Instead of taking the medicine that would make me better i hoarded it until i had the right amount. The love and fear of my future husband saved my life.
Why am i bringing this up now? Lately i have been feeling myself teetering on the brink of "okay" and "not okay." I've had panic attacks and days on end of anxiety and crushing depression that ebbs and flows. More recently i have felt my brain alive with searing pain and prickly energy. A feeling that terrifies me. I have been staying up late, my mind racing with thoughts. Even as i lay in bed, hoping for sleep, my brain is obsessively writing blog posts.
I can barely bring myself to face each day. The kids have been left to their own devices, in terms of entertainment, which all too often is television or computer. I have been less of a parent, more of a dazed and confused supervisor. I have though that it would be easier to just not be here.
And i look at my children. I feel how much i love them. They are everything to me. The thought of being this kind of mother tears my heart out.
And that is why i went to the doctor today.
I was a mess in that doctors office. A loose cannon of anxiety, guilt and worry. I hate talking about my past. I am ashamed of what happened to me. I am desperate for someone to help me make sure it doesn't happen again. I am scared of being judged. I am scared of being a bad mother. I am scared of losing my children.
I hate medicine. I hate that it makes me not feel like myself. I am scared to be happy and normal. Who am i then? My whole identity is being shy and child-like. More at ease with children than adults. I think i like being sad - it makes for such interesting thoughts. I don't know how to be happy for long periods of time. I know how to feel love and compassion. I know how to have fun. I know how to self-medicate. I know that it's a problem when i am looking at the clock wondering when is an acceptable hour to have a glass of wine, knowing that it is never acceptable to drink alone.
He asked me if anything had happened. I spoke loosely of weaning parker and wondering about the change in hormones after so many years of gestating and nursing. I couldn't tell him about my blog and how it changed my whole world, in relation to my family, a few moths ago. How can you talk about this and not appear a fool.
And so?
And so, i am sitting here with my brand new prescriptions. One for Effexor and one for Clonazepam. I have never taken either before, but after a long discussion of all the drugs i've tried in the past and even talking about my fears of withdrawal and addiction, these are the two that i will try.
I guess i am inviting you along for the rest of the ride. I may never have another thing to say. I hope i am no longer a train wreck. I hope i can be as happy as i was a few years ago.
Posted by Jess at 08:58 PM Permalink


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I hope you can be happy, too. I think you're an amazing & brave woman for sharing.
((hugs)) coming your way.
Posted by Refinnej | August 10, 2006 09:49 PM