I don’t remember where I saw that line, or if I heard it somewhere. It’s stuck in my mind for months and months. It may have been said to me, it may have been on the side of a bus. I think of it often.
It takes courage to feel.
Truer words have never been spoken. It does take courage. Maybe not the courage one thinks of, because we tend to think of the word in larger ways. People who run into burning buildings to save little old people. Kids fighting cancer. Anyone who stands up to a bully. Courage means all of that and more. That’s the joy of words, they tend to mean many things.
Can I tell you what else feeling your feelings does? It makes you very, very tired. I feel kinda foggy this week, if that makes sense. Which it may not. I’m not depressed. I’ve had no trouble getting up. Darkness at 5pm no longer makes me weepy. This week, so far, has been pretty decent. Yet, I feel like I’m walking around in a fog. Everything takes more energy than I have.
Last week was emotionally exhausting for me. Dealing with things that I tend to ignore, is hard. I don’t like being that person, the person who gets triggered by things in the news. I have to be honest and say, I am that person. Being triggered all week, was tiring. I am proud that I didn’t give into the depression. But it wasn’t easy.
Saying what I said the other day, wasn’t easy. I hate opening that closet and sharing what’s inside. I’d like to close that closet door and throw away the key, but I know that’s not healthy either. Tried that for years. It worked until it didn’t. I can’t do that again.
For now, I’ve re-closed that door. It means I can’t respond to your lovely, kind, supportive emails and comments. I’ve tried. Oh how I’ve tried. Just know, I appreciate every single one of you.
This week, I’m trying to be kind to myself. Last night I opened up the bag that was hiding the chocolates I bought for Christmas. My first Christmas purchase. Whatever. I will buy more. Sometimes you just need some Harry and David Treats. This week, I’ll recover from last week. Hopefully by next week, I’ll feel back to normal.
In other news, I just want to say a HUGE congratulations to my amazing friend Christy on the birth of her new baby boy yesterday.
I’ve tried to ignore it. For an entire week I’ve tried so very hard to ignore the Penn State drama. I’ve ignored Twitter. I’ve stopped reading news sites. I hit mark all as read on BlogHer in my reader. I’ve not commented on any posts about it.
Yet, I’ve been depressed. I’ve been falling. Sinking into a place that I hate. A place that I am having to fight very hard to not stay in. I could have blamed that on the time change. In fact, I have tried to blame it on that. But…I’ve been having stomach aches. I’ve been getting headaches. A single commercial can make me sad. I’ve started having nightmares again. It took me a few days, but I did figure out why.
This Penn State thing is a major trigger. In fact it’s the first major one since I spent a year in therapy trying to learn to deal with my issues. Trying to learn to not flip out like this at everything. Therapy was successful to a degree. There’s only so much work one can do on an issue though. It never goes away. I can’t seem to get away from this one, this time. With small triggers, I can. I’ve learned the skills to deal. This is EVERYWHERE though. I don’t blame the media, or people on Twitter for talking about it non-stop. It needs to be talked about. Maybe then next time someone will stand up and do the right thing. Next time someone sees or hears about a child being abused they will do the right thing. Instead of just thinking it’s none of their business. This issue? It’s everyones business.
I am triggered, because no one protected me. I was abused from seven to fifteen years old. I was sexually abused as a child and no one knew and no one ever protected me. I am damaged people. I put on a brave face and go about my life. But I’m still damaged. No amount of therapy changes that. I’ve learned to cope better. I’ve learned what not to watch, what not to read, what not to listen too. However, this will never go away from me.
I wasn’t protected. All kids deserve to be protected. All kids, no matter what, deserve that.
So…I hope you’ll forgive me for ignoring Twitter at times. For getting off Facebook. For not reading your posts about this issue. It’s not that I don’t care. Its that I have to protect myself. Because I’m the only one who will.
The days go by faster. Sunlight dwindles. Night comes earlier. It’s completely dark before I am able to pick up my kids. Monday night two of mine asked me why I was picking them up at bedtime. Night at 5pm is an adjustment for us all.
The gorgeous leaves have all fallen away and left brown in it’s place. Brown grass, brown trees. Winter. Winter is here.
My mother tries to convince me that it’s still technically fall. She’s technically correct. Yet, winter is here.
I feel it in my bones. The cold is already hard to take. The dark is already hard to take. It may be a long six months. Today was the first day in months where I really could have just hidden in bed all day. I didn’t, but I could have. I wanted to.
The child abuse case everyone is talking about non-stop sits badly with me. I have to turn it all off. I can’t listen. I can’t engage. I can’t…I just can’t.
Winter. Yep. It’s here.
That was a line my daughter Bailey used to use as a toddler when she’d get sad at daycare. We’d ask her why she was sad at lunch, or nap time or whatever time period they’d written on her daily form. She always replied, your hugs wore off mama.
At the time it made my workaholic heart ache. The following year we moved here and before I knew it, she’d grown out of that phase. Occasionally she will call me from her dad’s house and say, I just need you mommy. It’s a different version of the same thing. She’s a mama’s girl and I get it, as I’m one myself. Sometimes a phone call works, sometimes a quick trip over there does the trick. Sometimes you just need a hug.
BlogHer was a month ago. It seems like yesterday, but it also seems like a lifetime ago. I was lucky. It was an entire week for me, with BH and then my BFF trip. A week of late night conversations. A week filled to the brim with laughter. A week of coffee dates and dinners out. A week filled with a shit load of hugs.
Driving to get myself coffee a bit ago to improve my day, I looked outside at the rainy 55 degree day (I know, wtf?) and realized that I could really use a friend hug right about now. I just don’t really have anyone here for that.
I think my hugs wore off.
All those amazing friend hugs, gone in one month. Dam I use those suckers up fast. When’s BlogHer12 again?
Is there a prize for that? For making it six weeks off of anti-depressants? There should be, although I’m not exactly sure what it could be. Maybe a nice pretty gift box of treats from Harry & David. WHAT? A girl can dream can’t she?
It’s weird, making it this far. I know six weeks isn’t far. However after four years, it seems like a big step in the right direction. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that there were many times I wondered if I would make it this far. I wasn’t sure I’d make it a week, much less six. I’m not sure what will happen long term. I’m honestly not sure. However, I know I’ve made it this far.
A lot of people asked me why I did this. Why risk falling into a major depression? Why deal with side effects if you may have to go right back on it? Why now? I’m not sure I’m willing to answer that in the moment. I had my reasons and I’m not really ready to share them with the world. But I do promise you that I thought about this very carefully. I weighted all my options and made lists of pros and cons. Will I make it through winter? Hell if I know. It’s a goal though.
As you all well know, I’m an emotional person. High maintenance you could even call me. (Trust me, I’m aware.) I have problems with anxiety, depression and a very over active mind. I’ve had some really exhausting days in the past six weeks. Days where I let myself get too upset over nothing. I’ve had days where I’ve ended up weeping at night until I fall asleep. I’ve had a few days where I’ve been mildly depressed. I’ve been angry a few times. Really seriously angry. (Which is a new one for me. I’ve never really done angry.) Yet, I’ve managed it. I’ve made it through whatever was going on and gotten up the next day knowing it would be better.
I’ll tell you the weirdest thing. There was a day at BlogHer where I thought, fuck this, I can’t do this. I am falling apart. My anxiety was through the roof. Everything I ate made me sick. Every fiber of my being wanted to crawl into bed at 4pm on Friday. So I did the only thing I could think of in that moment. I called one of my best friends and talked to her about laundry. Literally for ten minutes I talked to her about cleaning clothes. I called her, because I knew I could bring up anything and she’d roll with it. I didn’t call my other two best friends, because I knew if I did, I’d fall apart. I could have fallen apart with her, but I also knew I could manage not too. So I talked about laundry and then I was able to continue on with my day. Because I heard her voice and she calmed me down without even knowing it. (Later I told her this and she did know, but like I said, she rolls with whatever.)
BlogHer was a hard one for me this year. Not because of the conference at all. Just because I was un-medicated. Plain and simple. I had no help for my social anxiety. It was a big test and I managed to make it through. Barely, but I did it.
Six weeks. I’ve made it six weeks. My goal in the moment? Is to make it six more. I have to be realistic. I am me and I know myself. If I think long term, I will psych myself out and call my doctor in a week. If I think more short term, it seems more manageable.
It’s been a weird, yet good six weeks. I think I can do this. I really believe I can.
Now….where’s my gift?? 
Yesterday I posted that I needed a break. That I was burned out on the Internet. It’s still in a way correct. However at some point yesterday I realized why I said it. Because of her. Because four years my happy (as I saw it then) life changed forever. Four years ago, I lost my Piper. I can lie to you and say that I knew this when I wrote that post yesterday, but I didn’t. I just knew that I had nothing to say. Turns out, I was lying to myself as well.
Losing her changed me in more ways than I can even begin to tell you. I have written about it before. At times I may continue to write about it. I may be a different person now than I was six months ago, or a year or two years ago. However I’ll never again be the woman I was before losing her. I don’t know that anyone can get back that kind of innocence once it’s lost. All I can do now is keep working on me.
I have a lot to say. Yesterday, I thought I had nothing to say. Turns out, I’m a bit afraid of my words. I’m maybe also afraid of myself right now. I’ve had a really great say week and a half and I’m afraid to change that. Isn’t that silly? A few good weeks and I’m afraid of going back to the way things were. I’m scared that one slip up, one small thing that sets me off will send me into a deep depression. Getting off of my meds made me realize that I never want to do that again. I never want to have those withdrawals again. However, I also can’t live my life avoiding all emotions because I’m scared of them.
I’m scared that sad will always equal depression for me. This may be something that I have to battle for awhile. Anyway, this is what’s really going on. I’m terrified to feel. I thought by closing off, I’d feel better. It actually made it worse. So….I guess pretend I said nothing yesterday. I’m sorry to you all that I’m like this. But I am. I act first at times and think later. Not as often as I used too, but at times it may always happen.
Piper. My baby. The baby girl I never got to see or hold, will always be in my heart. I will always love her, even though I only had her for a short period of time. 14 weeks isn’t long. Yet, it was our only time together. I try not to think about what she’d be like now. I try not to imagine a three year old bouncy little girl. If I had her, I wouldn’t have the bouncy two year old boy who has my whole heart. Doesn’t make me miss her any less though.
Today is her day. Today is the day I remember. Her name was Piper Isabelle.
On Thursday night last week, I was starting to think getting off my anti-depressants was a horrible decision. My ears were buzzing. I’m not even sure I can explain it. It almost felt like my brain was buzzing. I’ve never had a symptom make me feel so crazy like that before. I literally wanted to stick a knife in my ear to stop the constant buzzing. I kept thinking to myself, this is CRAZY. I am CRAZY. I can almost understand how something like this would make people do something stupid. I think I went to bed at 8:30pm that night. Just to stop feeling like that. I told myself, if this is still happening in the morning, I will take a pill from the bottle still in my bathroom and I will go see my doctor.
In the morning, it was gone. It’d never happened before and it’s never happened since. I’ll tell you though…it scared me. I was so happy it was gone.
I went to my (already scheduled) endocrinologist appointment to give blood/drink the glucose of death and then went about the rest of my day.
By Friday afternoon, I was noticing something different. Even with as hectic a morning as I’d had, I, for the first time in weeks felt good. I texted my best friends: I feel like me today. I did. I felt clear headed. I wasn’t angry at anything. I didn’t want to punch a wall. I wasn’t having any side effects. The medication was officially out of my system and I felt great. I have felt good and clear headed ever since then.
Two weeks of major side effects was harsh. However, to be off medication? It was worth it. (I can say that now, since I feel better.) I do not know what will happen in the future. I can’t say that I will never need it again. I can’t even for sure tell you what my choice will be in four more weeks. How will I deal with winter? How will I deal with any major change in my life? These are unknowns for now. However, in the moment? I feel like myself. And that makes me happy.
Complete darkness is all around me. (Black out blinds, best investment ever.) My bed is comfy. Soft sheets, even softer blankets. My air conditioner is set at the perfect temperature. I have no reason for being awake. I just am. I wonder to myself for the seventh time that night what time it may be. I reach for the iPhone on my side table and stop myself before I pick it up. I have a strict don’t look rule when I am like this. It’s worse to know what time it is. If I don’t know, I can tell myself it’s only midnight. If it’s midnight I have tons of time to sleep enough to feel human. I know I’m lying to myself. It’s still better than knowing that it’s 4:22am. Or 3:46am. Or whatever time it happens to literally be in the moment. When I know, I figure out how many minutes it is until my alarm goes off. That is a guaranteed way for me to not sleep. I toss and turn the rest of the night anyway.
I haven’t slept well in a week. The only night I slept all of the way through, I took two Benadryl. I’m contemplating doing that again. My kids come home tomorrow after a week on vacation with their grandparents. I need to sleep.
My head pounds all day long. It’s a pre-migraine headache. It hasn’t turned into a migraine, yet I can’t get rid of it either. No matter how much water I drink or Advil I take, it won’t leave.
I went through a few days of being slightly nauseous. Now, I’m eating everything in sight. I believe that last part is PMS, but really I’m guessing.
I am irritable. At everything. At nothing. I get on and off of Twitter. Mostly because you all breath. Literally. I’d like to give a real reason, but I don’t have any. Everything annoys me. Which is odd, because I can ignore most things online. When things annoy me, I hit that pretty red X. Yet, right now, everything annoys me. I’m finding myself grouchy non-stop.
I just yelled at my dog. Because I tripped on her bone. Yeah, she was asleep across the room. I am thankful my kids haven’t been here for a week. I’m sure pissy, yelly mom wouldn’t have been fun for them. I’m hoping I can keep myself from being like that when they come home tomorrow.
I send emails and after a week of no response I wonder what I did wrong. Sigh. This is the part I hate. The over thinking. The believing it’s always about me. It’s not me. I am sure of it. But I have trouble not jumping to that first.
I’m half the time so spacey I can’t remember why I got up and the other half the time there are so many details in my head, I can’t write them down fast enough.
I’ve been off my anti-depressant a week and a day. Awesome side effects huh?
The weird thing, is that the irritability is what bothers me the most. I hate being that person that is grouchy at everyone and everything all of the time. I hate watching every word I say, just to make sure I don’t spew my irritation at others. The rest I can handle, but this annoys me. Ha. I’m annoyed that I’m annoyed. Fun times.
It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, the side effects of withdrawal. I feared the anxiety and so far, I’ve been mostly okay. It’s not pleasant, that is for sure. Yet, so far? I can do this. I have not gotten depressed. I have not had a panic attack. I think I can deal with the rest of it. I need to keep myself in check at times. But because I’m aware of how I am, I’ve so far managed to do this. I’m being hyper vigilant right now.
Anyway, I wanted to share. Because you all have been here with me for years and you deserve real. What I posted yesterday? Total crap. I know this. It was my need to not feel like I was over burdening anyone. Yesterday was a bad day. Today will hopefully be better.
I keep telling everyone I’m okay. And I am. Not great, not bad, just okay. I’ll take it right now.
This, by the way, is my theme song right now. Not sure why, but it just seems to sit well with me. I thought I’d share.
It will be four years in July. July 26th to be exact. Four years since I lost my Piper and for a while, myself. I’ve been on anti-depressants for nearly as long. It was needed. I needed them. At first they helped me get out of bed. They helped me re-join the world. To see that I didn’t cause what happened. To help me see that I could make a difference in what I was currently doing.
Since then, I’ve battled depression. It never seems to fully leave. At times it lays dormant, just laying in wait for the next opportunity to pounce.
I’ve dealt with more in the past four years than I could begin to put into words. PPD twice. Childhood abuse issues. A pretty much complete distance from my dad, step-mother and her children. Separation. Child sharing. Divorce. Life after divorce. That’s just the surface words. The reality was much harsher.
I’ve lowered and upped my doses for years depending on what was in my face in the moment. I’ve battled many horrible bouts of depression in the past four years. I’ve also battled some not as bad ones. I’ve spent weeks hiding in bed. I’ve had days that I honestly believed the sun would never shine again. Depression does that. It takes over your entire world. It makes you tired. It physically hurts. It makes you doubt everything good in your life. Those commercials with the dark cloud following the cartoon person around? Those are a fairly accurate picture. When I’m depressed, I’m pretty horrible to myself. My head gets all messed up and I over think everything said to me and everything I say to the point of making myself and everyone around me crazy.
I’ve also had some amazing depression free periods. Some last days, some weeks and lately it has been months. Months in-between bouts with darkness. Even the darkness, when it comes hasn’t been as long. Days instead of weeks. An occasional week, instead of months. Life has gotten better. My life is a lot more sunshine these days. My head is a lot more mellow.
On Friday, I went to an Endocrinologist for a plethora of reasons. I plan on explaining some of what was said at a later time. For now, let’s just say, I adore the woman. One thing she said to me, was that she’d like me to think about getting off my depression medication.
I’ve thought about it for days. I have been on the lowest dose possible for the past three months. The longest time I’ve gone that low since starting it. I’ve weighed all of the options. I know what could happen. I know it could throw me into a depression. I know the physical side effects of getting off of it. I know what my head may do. How I may get. I know all of this.
Yet, I’m going to try anyway. I’d like to give it a full six weeks before I consider if I can do it for good, or if I need to return to it. Six weeks. I’ve picked a time of sunshine and warmth. I’ve made a list for myself of fun thing that are happening in the next six weeks and a second list of things to do when I start feeling bad.
I’m going to try. I want off of this. It wasn’t what I wanted when I got on it. It was what I needed. The hard truth is that I may always battle depression. That doesn’t mean I need to be medicated forever though. If needed at a later date, I will go back on it, knowing that I gave it a good shot. Whether that’s in six weeks, six months or six years. It’s okay.
I’m scared. I’m terrified that I’m making a huge mistake. I’m worried that it will set of my anxiety. I think I’m most scared that I’m deluding myself. That I really do still need the medication to function. I have to give it a shot though.
Today is day one.
When Logan first left, the pain of it all felt like it came in constant waves. Like I was on the coast during a horrible storm. The wave would take me under, flip me around and spit me out. I’d barely catch my breath before it did it again. It was brutal. It was non-stop. After awhile it dissipated a bit. A large wave would come and smack me every now and then, but it wasn’t constant. It was almost as if the storm had passed. Most of the time now, it’s not that bad. Even when the waves come, they are little. Lake waves maybe.
There’s that saying that you can get used to anything? I never believed it to be true, but I suppose it is. I did. I got used to this new life. Most of the time at least. This weekend was rough though. I’m not even sure I can adequately put it into words. The best I can probably say, is there was a big storm. I made it out okay, but I felt a bit wrecked.
I’d forgotten what it was like to feel this bad. Maybe not really forgotten, but I’d pushed it far back. It’s hard to feel so alone. To feel so lonely and know that no one cares to hang out with you. To feel like you’ve lost everything. I spent a lot of time wishing I could turn back the clock this weekend. Wishing I could turn the clock back to a better time. A time where my house was always loud. A time where I was married. A time where my kids were always here. A time with friends to talk to and do things with. I miss that.
This weekend I missed that so much. This weekend my depression and anxiety beat me. This weekend I felt super sorry for myself. I was convinced that I’d always be alone. I’ve been through so much in the past few years and most of the time now, I feel like I have a handle on my life and on myself. I wish he could have just waited. Just given me more time to find my way.
This weekend I felt like I’d never be happy again. What can I say, I’m over dramatic when I have one of these moment. However, it happens.
Yesterday after completely loosing my shit and sobbing to one of my best friends for a good hour, I started to feel better. I still feel pretty wrecked though. Dumb too. I always feel like a dumb failure in the aftermath.
Last month at some point, I had a conversation with one of my friends. About how right now is just one chapter in our lives. It’s not the whole book. It may be a shitty chapter, yet eventually it will end. Then a new one will start.
I’m ready for that new chapter.
Grab My Button!
I’m a joiner
