Coming Clean

This is the part when I am willing to be very vulnerable about myself on The Internet. This is mostly just because I have come to a realization the effect in my life over the past couple of months.

My name is Julie, and I take an antidepressant.

And I have been ever since my precious Mikey was born. At first, it was to relieve post-partem issues. Very yuck PPD with [my sweet, wonderful] Matthew, and while I was never suicidal, I did not want to have at least six major meltdowns a day, inability to sleep, constant INTENSE worry/anxiety in that period after Michael was born like I did after Matthew was born. And the medicine did really help that second post-partem time, but it was like I could feel the medicine just keeping the anxiety at bay and not totally eliminating it (which at least made it manageable). This is also one reason why we just have two kids. I love babies, but the infant time of childhood is not my BFF.

And here's the other thing: I really hate it when other Christians would tell me that it was "unBiblical" to worry and that I just needed to pray more and "just don't worry." I DON'T think it's God's design for us to worry, and I do believe that praying more is a good thing. But perhaps God has created medications to help our weak, imperfect human bodies. And for heaven's sake, what kind of advice is it to "just not worry"? Because clearly I'm not trying hard enough, eh?

Anyway, the antidepressants really have helped me to be more even-keeled and less up and down so I have stayed on something ever since I first started. Anyway, to get back to the original point, the anxiety problems had started escalating during the fall, and I would find myself feeling so panicky over Tiny Little Issues without any really good reason why. Honestly, it was getting a bit crippling in just living my daily life (frequent, on-going racing heart, inability to make decisions, and fear of what was in the immediate future), which definitely includes getting a good night's sleep. I kept thinking, "Oh! Once I get past this point [settling back into the school year, Christmas, Alan's job loss, etc.] it will get better." But it didn't. So, I saw my doctor and she changed my medication, and I felt better pretty quickly. It's so embarrassing to be crying to your doctor about feeling so extremely A*N*X*I*O*U*S, but she is so calming and understanding. LOVE my GP. Sometimes it makes me feel like I am an Official Crazy Person to be taking an antidepressant. But the benefits definitely outweigh the stigma, and I try not to give myself a hard time about needing this.

So, here's the thing I'm coming to find about myself on this medication: while the medicine dulls the anxiety (I really feel very, very little at this point), it also dulls almost every other emotion. I can't cry when I feel like I need that release. And I have noticed that I also have a greatly decreased desire to blog about the mundane minuta of my life (which may be a good thing). I miss my bloggie chattiness. And I'm going to push myself to grab back that side of myself.