depression - This Little Light

So, things aren’t always sunshine and rainbows and learning to navigate that can be challenging. Even though my life is pretty damn good, I still have rough patches where I cannot see or appreciate that. Just like a diabetic forgetting insulin and going into a ketoacidotic crisis, a person on certain medications for mental illness skipping doses can cause a different sort of crisis. One night, when I had run out of my antidepressant/anxiety medication the night before, (my fault) I was increasingly irritable, everything set me off and finally I just went to bed because I was in such a dark place all I wanted to do was cry. As I lay in bed, crying and trying to talk myself out of going and getting a knife and opening a vein – mostly for the sanity of my kids not having a mother or having one who took her own life – I started telling myself “I am nothing, I am nobody, I am trash” and oddly enough, I actually felt better. I just kept chanting it until my crying stopped and I fell asleep. The next few days, even though I started my drugs back again, every time I felt anxious, upset, not good enough, frustrated with whatever situation, I would just say that to myself and I calmed down. But why?

I posted it on a vet mom’s group and asked why that would make me feel better. I got some good answers, and they may all be correct, but this is what they said:

Maybe it’s because we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone that once you step back and acknowledge that you really aren’t that important, it’s almost a relief. Between my kids, my husband, my family, my clients, co-workers, bosses, friends, random social media critics/fans, etc, I try to be all I can be and it sometimes gets me so irritable that they still aren’t happy with me. I think when I can step back and remember that I’m not that important to them, I can take the pressure off of myself for not making them completely happy. Like, if I think about how I go home overwhelmed and upset about an interaction I’ve had with them, then think about how they probably aren’t thinking about me and I haven’t ruined their life, maybe I, too, can forget about it.
I’m telling myself this to reaffirm the inner demon that tells me I’m not good enough. This one is a little darker and may have some truth to it, but normally when I’m diving headlong into a self sabotaging spiral, I feel worse and worse. Repeating the phrase here, though, made me feel better. Like, tears drying, wrenching gut relaxing, better.
Maybe I just have too much self importance. I mean, don’t we all a little? Because you’re you and you live from your point of view, that MUST mean you’re meant for something big. You will have a great affect on the world. God wants you for something spectacular! But maybe I am just nobody. I had a friend once tell me that not everyone can be SOMEONE. Sometimes God just needs fillers or pawns or placeholders or just fluff. Which, definitely, at it’s heart is disheartening. But, at some point, maybe it’s a little bit of a relief to know you maybe don’t have THAT much responsibility in the world. Like, I love just working as an employee, especially when I see what my employers have to deal with on a daily basis. Maybe I’m okay with being nobody, nothing. (Okay, “trash” MAY be taking it too far and feeding my demons)

So, in conclusion: DON’T SKIP YOUR MEDS (check now to make sure you’re not about to run out). And maybe it’s okay to take some pressure off yourself. I know we all feel like we have to be the best at our job, the best looking companion for your spouse, the best and most devoted parent, on top of brushing your dog or cat’s teeth, keeping your house spotless and your kids bathed more than once weekly (who me?), and to ALWAYS treat others with patience and grace. But, one day, our gravesites (if you’ll have one) will be just some words on a stone and no one will know who you are or were (unless you were someone SUPER special) or whether you were nice to that one person that one day when you were exhausted and bitter. Forgive yourself, you’re really not anyone special (and that’s okay).

Dear my doctor, Human Doctor, HD

I really appreciate your devotion to figuring out my health – both physical and mental – and your taking the time to really listen to me and address my biggest concerns – “no, it’s probably not a brain tumor haha!” – even though I had already taken out an extra life insurance policy. I was even excited when you told me that you didn’t think I was on the right medication for my mental struggles and that you were optimistic that switching to a different medication would better address my issues of anxiety (perhaps a reason for the additional life insurance reaction to my headaches?). We planned to wean down the dose of my medication slowly – you know, so I didn’t die – and it would take about 3-4 weeks to get it out of my system before we could start with the new one. I walked out of the clinic enthusiastic that my perspective on life would be a little sunnier in the future.

**Oscar in Michigan – he LOVED the snow!**

Then, slowly, as my day went on, I began to realize at what point my body would be completely devoid of medication to stabilize my emotions… Election week. Good timing, HD.

My anxiety started with the birth of my second child in 2014 and has only continued to get worse through the third child and then the turmoil between friends and family over politics despite counselling, exercise, good diet. I used to picture me, dropping Oscar as an infant and then just vividly picturing his busting his head open, vividly feeling the emotions that would come with it. Picturing our trip to the hospital and how I would feel at his funeral. This extended to Tony, picturing him falling from the barn when he was feeding the animals and dying – continue with long emotional “daydreaming”.

**Fantastic weekend camping on North Manitou island**, MI

The worst was once, when I was nursing Calvin in the recliner in our home, should have been a beautiful moment between a mother and her infant in the early hours of the morning, everything was quiet and I was just loving his tiny, soft, warm body against mine when the nightmare entered my mind. I imagined how it would feel if I were living as a Jewish person in the Holocaust and was trying to hide with this baby when the Nazis were looking for people and shooting all they found hiding. What if Calvin was crying and I couldn’t get him to stop?? The long drives I would be on for farm calls would just add fuel to the fire as I was alone with my thoughts for 1.5 hours at a time.

I have grown up absolutely convinced that if I tried hard enough, used my attuned introspection and was honest with myself, that I could get to the root of the problem and address it. I also believed that I just needed to get enough exercise, eat right, and generally take care of myself and I wouldn’t need medication. I, admittedly, thought that people on medication for their mental issues were just not trying hard enough.

**My Halloween costume one year when I went as Cat Woman**

Eventually, though, despite my being able to look at my life from the outside and think “I’ve actually got it pretty good – loving husband, three healthy children, financial stability” the dark, suicidal thoughts slowly started to creep in.

Karma, am I right?

Finally, I sought out a therapist who helped me immensely, but eventually, I still required medication. I fought and fought her and myself with the idea of starting medication. I thought it was practically giving up. Rolling over, becoming lazy, and needing a crutch. I also was afraid that it would change my personality. But it didn’t. Through all of my guilt at being on this medication which increased serotonin (hormone that makes you feel right with the world) levels in my brain that was just not producing enough on it’s own, I complained to my vet mom’s group as we sometimes vent to each other, and someone commented something that changed my whole outlook on this issue.

She said, “Medication for depression/anxiety is no different than a diabetic who needs insulin to survive. A diabetic’s body just doesn’t make enough of the insulin hormone and we just don’t make enough of the serotonin. You wouldn’t judge a diabetic for using insulin because they just weren’t ‘trying hard enough'”

Sometimes, though, the medication you are put on is not quite the right one for you. So, after 3 years of being on Prozac, I’m now clean… and absolutely miserable. I cannot wait to start my new medication this weekend. This past 2 weeks has been absolute torture on my body – mentally and physically. I’m having to take the rescue anti-anxiety medication my HD prescribed on a nightly basis (don’t worry, it’s just an antihistamine). Last night, I felt like my chest was caving in, every single sudden or loud sound made me angry. I wanted to yell, I wanted to cry – for no reason. I just wanted to curl up in a ball, but was too restless for that.

**India – toddler’s reaction to asking her to smile for a picture**

So, Sunday, I start a new medication – Lexapro. Truly, I am very grateful for my doctor’s efforts. I’m sure he didn’t plan to switch my medication during this turmoil. And he couldn’t possibly know that this would also be the time that my sweet Merlin and my oldest cat, Delphi would be starting to go down hill and euthanasia would be on the table for both. I’m sure he was just excited to get me on a better medication to make me feel like a more normal person. And for that, I’ll forgive his timing =)

Please, if you even think you may need help, seek it out. Even just a therapist – even if only on Zoom or whatever – you’re not broken. People don’t talk about their issues because they are afraid of how others will see them. You could have, literally, everything going for you and can still have a hormone deficiency that causes you to think negative thoughts and even hate yourself. Don’t even start with that “back in the day” crap either – back in the day, no one talked about it, instead, they just drank themselves into oblivion, became abusive to their families, or got institutionalized.

**Me and my in-laws (Tony’s sister and her husband)**

We are a very intelligent species and are, therefore, more prone to thinking. Thinking can be great when it is aimed in the right direction, but can also be downright dangerous if it veers in the wrong direction. Therapists and medication can keep your thoughts on track. Hormones are ridiculously influential things. Don’t think you can outsmart them.

Seek help!

Tag: depression

“I am nothing, I am nobody, I am trash”

Head Games – You’re not broken