This is the eighth part in a series, CLICK HERE to start at Part 1
I was so naive to think that something so intense could go away so quickly on its own. The overwhelming despair that I felt was so frightening to me. I would be overcome with sadness and lose all motivation. Noises and chaos that were every day life to me with a husband and two kids all of the sudden became too much for me to take in. My head felt like it was in a vice when things became too noisy. I felt like I was going crazy. It was in those moments when I knew I had to get away. I would leave the kids with David and drive away with the dog or I would go for a long walk in the field across the street. I needed solitude and to be alone. I would sometimes park the truck and take a nap to sleep off the confusion and tension that I felt. I would sob while walking through the field, not even understanding the reason for crying.
Near the end of July, I knew that I had to do something about how I felt. I honestly don't even remember what my eating habits were during this time. It all seems like a blur to me, though some of it sticks out so well to me. I do remember that I had become someone that I no longer recognized. I had anxiety building up in me to the point that I didn't know what would happen if it boiled over. I scared myself.
In my journal, I wrote:
July 24, 2009
My business coach, who also happens to be a friend, pushed me to finally call my doc and make an appointment. I called yesterday and got an 11 am appointment. I had the neighbor keep an eye on Girly and had some blood drawn to check my thyroid. Then I sat in front of my doctor and tried to hold it together and went through about 4 tissues. I told myself that I wasn't going to let anyone see me as vulnerable as I feel, but that didn't last long. As soon as I started talking, that was it. I was a mess.
He spent more time than he probably should have talking with me....I feel bad for the people that had to wait for him to see them.
I'm going to call the counseling service and get an appointment. He also put me on Celexa. I didn't want to go the medication route. I really didn't. I'd much rather make a diet change, do some therapy and go alternative, but after my doc knowing me for 10 years and knowing this isn't the "normal Erika" that he's used to seeing, he recommended going on a low dose and seeing where I'm at in 3 weeks.
He diagnosed "acute depression with anxiety." Yes, it's gotten pretty bad. I haven't written to much about it here and I find that I usually only write when I'm actually feeling on a high.
There are times when I feel like myself and then there are times when I hardly recognize who I am. I've been living off of ibuprofen for the past week as the headaches have gotten worse and made me feel sick. I leave the house when I think I'm going to explode. I'm too scared to stay. I don't want my kids to see me fall apart. I have intense moments of feeling like everything is good and happy and then I crash so suddenly that it's frightening to me.
The bottle of medication sits in my medicine cabinet, untouched. I'm working up the courage to actually take one and get started. I have always considered myself to be a strong person. The thought of taking one of those pills makes me feel like I'm a failure, like I'm weak and it makes me feel embarrassed for not being able to rise above this on my own. To work my way through it on my own. I don't feel like this about other people that have depression and need to be taking something for it. I just feel this way about myself. I know this is bullshit thinking. I know I'm not weak. The fact that I've made it this long feeling the way I have without going insane and the fact that I actually reached out this time to get help shows some strength, but I have a hard time convincing myself of that.
My goal is to have half a pill down the hatch before I hit the sack tonight.
I took the meds, but I didn't call the counseling agency. Something held me back from doing that. Part of it was that I had been brought up to not put much trust in the field of psychology. The other part was that I still had this thought that I could make it through on my own. I think I was too scared to take the unbelievable amount of time it would require to start digging through all of the past with a therapist. The mere thought of taking all of that on made me feel like shutting down. I decided to take the first step, though, in finding some way to cope and heal.
June 26, 2009
Day 2 of meds
I feel wired, keyed up and jittery. I can't say I like this feeling.
July 28, 2009
Day 4 of meds
(I'm keeping this all written down so that if I need to go back later to find symptoms and stuff to tell the doc, I have it in one place)
The jittery, keyed up and wired feeling was there yesterday, as well, but near as bad as it was on Sunday. I'm expecting the next bout in an hour or so...as that's when it seems to hit. Somewhere in mid day. When I get that feeling, it's scary. My heart feels like it's racing a little bit....like I'm hopped up on caffeine overdose or something. I feel anxious and panicky...but it's getting less and less. When I come down off of that, I feel normal. I want to sleep during those times, just so that I don't have to feel that way. It's almost like I feel nauseous, but I don't. Not sure how to describe it.
I had a nasty head ache when I went to bed. Took some ibuprofen and it seemed to help. Woke up feeling like I had a hangover. Every time I bent over, my head hurt when I got up. Took some more ibuprofen. Seems to be better now.
I can't stop yawning and when I do yawn, my jaw has this weird sensation like my mouth doesn't want to shut. That's been going on since I started taking the meds. It's not as bad as when it I first started, though, so hopefully things are evening out.
I'm actually finding motivation to do what needs to be done around the house and in my work, which is something I haven't felt in a while.
Click HERE for Part 10