Just Do It.
Have you ever had a pain creep in so slowly, you almost don't realize it? You make adjustments as it worsens, but never really give any thought to how MANY adjustments you are making, until one day, it just stops. And you think, "Good Lord, if that had hit me all at once, I would have been BEGGING for narcotics". I think depression can affect many people the same way. If the worst of it blindsided you all at once, you would realize how intolerable it really is. But, for me anyway, it doesn't. It sneaks in. Bit by bit. All of a sudden, it's too much trouble to make lunch for the kids. Just the THOUGHT of trying to get everybody dressed, out the door, and into their carseats, can be enough to make me want to crawl back into bed and sob.
And my husband, bless him, just slowly started taking over these things, without so much as a sigh of irritation, or a complaint. More and more evenings, he's come home to what we call an "informal" dinner, and made himself a sandwich. He, without complaint, loads all the kids in the car, before I even have to leave the house. The last year or so, though, has been increasingly worse. That's the year the anxiety started to creep in. The first time I experienced it, was after the birth of Elijah James, now 5. I would sit there for hours with that feeling of dread. You know the one. The one you feel before you have to tell your dad you lied about something, or a speech in class. But, with no reason. I think it was just the way that particular bout of post-partum depression manifested itself. After a few weeks, it, like the hormones, settled down, and we were back into the daily grind.
The second time I really felt that, was after the birth of Gabriel, two years ago. But this time, I hade a fix. Pretzels. Yes, you read that right. PRETZELS. I would have borderline panic attacks if I ran low, verging on hysteria if I ran completely out. And again, my husband, simply made sure I had what I needed, often stopping on a daily basis by the store, while I sat here completely sure I was finally, really and truly, losing my mind. But, again, after 6 weeks or so, I ran out of pretzels one day, and it was okay. So, back to the grind.
What I did not realize until recently, very recently, in fact, that the so-called daily grind that we had been living with, was actually just like that pain that creeps up, slowly getting worse. I decided, after 18 years on the same anti-depressant, to give the old meds adjustment roller coaster a try. Even though I knew my medication was not working optimally, it was working well enough that I've been reluctant to mess with it. It controlled the big things I was struggling with, and allowed me to at least somewhat function on a day to day basis. I mean, just south of alright is certainly better then just north of hell on earth, right?
Maybe before the daily anxiety, but not anymore.
I was afraid that something new would either not work at all, or would burden me with side effects, and on and on.
But nevertheless, finally sick of being overweight, and unable to cope with the anxiety, I bit the bullet, and tried something new. Being in the same drug family, I did not have to deal with a bunch of weaning off and increasing dosages, I was just simply able to stop the old and start the new. A few days later, I realized that I was standing in the basement, with a armpit high pile of laundry, and, get this, just doing it. Like the Nike commercial. What I wasn't doing, was standing there, dreading it. Or reluctant to start it, knowing that when it came out of the dryer, I would have to sort, fold, put away, and so on. It didn't matter. Just do it. I find myself at night, laying in bed, not dreading all the this and the that that I will need to get done tomorrow, wondering how I am going to manage, but rather viewing the day in terms of possibilities. Knowing what needs to be done, but not being hung up on the doing it. Because now, I can. Just do it. And along the way, I can enjoy the kids, and the surprises. Ryan's latest joke (What's a vampire's favorite sweetener? Blood sugar)that actually made me laugh out loud, instead of distractedly waving him away.
I hate thinking about the fact, that the only mom my kids have ever known, has been living the life of the walking dead, bad enough in it's own right, worse for the fact that I didn't even REALIZE it. Unable to write, which was something I have always loved. Unable to just DO it.
But, look ma! I can do it!
There is always the possibility that what I am experiencing will be temporary. I hope not. It's actually my biggest fear right now. But I am pointedly not focusing in the maybe, I am focusing on the now. For now, I will live life, I will experience it, I will just do it.
Because for now, I am alive.
FINALLY.
And my husband, bless him, just slowly started taking over these things, without so much as a sigh of irritation, or a complaint. More and more evenings, he's come home to what we call an "informal" dinner, and made himself a sandwich. He, without complaint, loads all the kids in the car, before I even have to leave the house. The last year or so, though, has been increasingly worse. That's the year the anxiety started to creep in. The first time I experienced it, was after the birth of Elijah James, now 5. I would sit there for hours with that feeling of dread. You know the one. The one you feel before you have to tell your dad you lied about something, or a speech in class. But, with no reason. I think it was just the way that particular bout of post-partum depression manifested itself. After a few weeks, it, like the hormones, settled down, and we were back into the daily grind.
The second time I really felt that, was after the birth of Gabriel, two years ago. But this time, I hade a fix. Pretzels. Yes, you read that right. PRETZELS. I would have borderline panic attacks if I ran low, verging on hysteria if I ran completely out. And again, my husband, simply made sure I had what I needed, often stopping on a daily basis by the store, while I sat here completely sure I was finally, really and truly, losing my mind. But, again, after 6 weeks or so, I ran out of pretzels one day, and it was okay. So, back to the grind.
What I did not realize until recently, very recently, in fact, that the so-called daily grind that we had been living with, was actually just like that pain that creeps up, slowly getting worse. I decided, after 18 years on the same anti-depressant, to give the old meds adjustment roller coaster a try. Even though I knew my medication was not working optimally, it was working well enough that I've been reluctant to mess with it. It controlled the big things I was struggling with, and allowed me to at least somewhat function on a day to day basis. I mean, just south of alright is certainly better then just north of hell on earth, right?
Maybe before the daily anxiety, but not anymore.
I was afraid that something new would either not work at all, or would burden me with side effects, and on and on.
But nevertheless, finally sick of being overweight, and unable to cope with the anxiety, I bit the bullet, and tried something new. Being in the same drug family, I did not have to deal with a bunch of weaning off and increasing dosages, I was just simply able to stop the old and start the new. A few days later, I realized that I was standing in the basement, with a armpit high pile of laundry, and, get this, just doing it. Like the Nike commercial. What I wasn't doing, was standing there, dreading it. Or reluctant to start it, knowing that when it came out of the dryer, I would have to sort, fold, put away, and so on. It didn't matter. Just do it. I find myself at night, laying in bed, not dreading all the this and the that that I will need to get done tomorrow, wondering how I am going to manage, but rather viewing the day in terms of possibilities. Knowing what needs to be done, but not being hung up on the doing it. Because now, I can. Just do it. And along the way, I can enjoy the kids, and the surprises. Ryan's latest joke (What's a vampire's favorite sweetener? Blood sugar)that actually made me laugh out loud, instead of distractedly waving him away.
I hate thinking about the fact, that the only mom my kids have ever known, has been living the life of the walking dead, bad enough in it's own right, worse for the fact that I didn't even REALIZE it. Unable to write, which was something I have always loved. Unable to just DO it.
But, look ma! I can do it!
There is always the possibility that what I am experiencing will be temporary. I hope not. It's actually my biggest fear right now. But I am pointedly not focusing in the maybe, I am focusing on the now. For now, I will live life, I will experience it, I will just do it.
Because for now, I am alive.
FINALLY.
posted by Mindy @ 0 comments 
