Skip to main content

Down The Rabbit Hole

Life has been pretty tumultuous for me lately. I haven't been myself. I've given up on a lot of things that I love and enjoy doing. Such as my blog. It had just become too much of an effort. Which is sad since writing has always been something I have really loved to do and been a great escape for me. Then my Mother has had another health crisis. This time it's pretty bad. That was the straw that broke this camel's back. I went to the doctor this week. I wanted to cancel a 1,000 times. I convinced myself I was just imagining things. But as each day passed I felt myself slip further down the rabbit hole.
I come from a very long line of mental illness. It's scary stuff. Suicide, substance abuse and inpatient facilities unfortunately were something I was familiar with at a young age. Not for me, but for a lot of my loved ones. I have been asked the question for years "How did you turn out so normal?" I always laugh and say "I don't know." All the while I am freaking out on the inside that someone would figure out that I wasn't normal. I have always felt I kept a pretty good handle on my crazy. There have been times in my life when I probably go through binges where I drink to much, get a little to sad or sleep too much. I have always been able to shake it off. Until recently. Actually, no, I take that back. It hasn't been so recent. If I'm being honest it's something that started 18 months ago. I have spent all of my adult life in Social Work and mental illness. I KNOW the signs, symptoms, what to do. I will be my loved ones and clients biggest advocate to get help. Yet, somehow, when it came to me I would wake up every day and think it will just go away. I thought if I "faked it til I made it" I would be okay. I wasn't okay.
After I had #2 and #3 I got depressed. I knew I was depressed. I had a traumatic delivery, two new born babies, a 3 year old and I was suddenly a SAHM. I remember the conversation I had with my OB (who by that point was a good friend rather than doctor) clearly. He was worried and I assured him I would pull out of it. And I did. I worked really hard to get back to myself. I felt like I maintained a pretty even keel for a long time.
Then 18 months ago my Mother spent 6 weeks in ICU. Doctor's told us she wasn't going to get better and we should make funeral arrangements. It was devastating. At the time I thought I was handling it well. Looking back I realize I was a mess. She did get better and eventually went home. Things were different though. Life became harder it seemed. I became angrier and angrier. If I wasn't angry I was crying. I started yelling at the kids. Losing my cool over really silly things like they didn't put on socks with their shoes or spill their cereal on the table. I started worrying that I was not doing enough. I started feeling like everything had to be perfect and I had to be one of those Pinterest Mom's who can do everything and make it seem so easy. I really put up a good front. Overachieving became my motto. I often get comments to the tune of "I don't know how you do it. You always have so much patience." These comments would kill me. Inside I was crumbling. I was so worried the cracks were going to start showing in my veneer and that I would be a disappointment to a lot of people. That's the root of it. I didn't want to disappoint anyone. Then my Mother fell and broke her neck. She literally broke her neck. I fell apart. I started having panic attacks on a daily basis. I started falling asleep during the day and not sleeping at night. I wasn't showering. I haven't even changed the sheets on my bed in over a week (which is unheard of for me. I like clean sheets). I felt hopeless. I made an appointment with my doctor.
I had to wait 2 weeks for the appointment. I wanted to cancel so many times. But I didn't. I went and cried through the entire appointment. The doctor diagnosed me with moderately high depression and general anxiety disorder (GAD). I started an antidepressant that day. Today is day 4. Yesterday wasn't a good day. I had another panic attack because I was taking a little time for myself instead of doing a chore at home. Today is better. I don't feel angry or like I want to strangle someone. I'm still feeling pretty anxious about life, but I haven't yelled at the kids in a couple of days or lost it because they made a mess. I'm horrified at how far I let myself go. I've always been a pretty laid back person. This isn't me. My family deserves better and Mr. Mayer deserves a medal for putting up with me and my neurosis. I am going to have a little more understanding the next time I have a client or loved one tell me why they delayed treatment or they thought it would "just go away." It doesn't just go away.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Adulting is Hard

It's no secret that being an adult is hard. Being a parent is really hard, especially with the bombardment of social media and other outlets. Everyone has an opinion of what you should or should not be doing, saying, eating, etc. It's exhausting when you have average "normal" by society standards children. Throw in a little boy who is viewed as a little different and things get 10x harder.

A few weeks ago my favorite musician, P!nk, accepted the Video Vanguard Award at the MTV Video Music awards. Her speech that evening struck a cord with me. At the time I could not place my finger on why it affected me so much, but this morning something happened, and I understood.

I have made no secret that #3 is different than other kids. He is loving, affectionate, empathetic, and will stand up for anyone he thinks has been wronged. He loves Minecraft, his laser guns, Five Nights at Freddy's, and the color blue. He also loves Queen Elsa, having his fingernails painted and we…

7 Year Itch...

Things are changing y'all.... About six weeks ago I applied for a part time therapist job, on a whim. A month went by and I had not heard anything about the job, I assumed it wasn't going to happen and carried on with life. Then I got a phone call asking me to come in for an interview! Over the course of the month between applying for the job and the interview I had talked myself out of wanting to do it. Cause, that's what I do. I went into the interview thinking it would just be good practice and I had zero intentions of pursuing the position.  Last year I applied for a job I really wanted. It was somewhere I had always wanted to work and was so excited about the prospect. I was told that the job was mine, then I was emailed and told that a former employee had emailed and said she might be moving back to Tulsa and they were going to give the position to her. I was devastated. Then a few weeks later I was emailed again offering me the job again. Needless to say I declined b…

Just Keep Swimming...

Somewhere around my third phone conversation with my insurance company today I hit my wall, hard. I'm not fit for human contact today. I have cried with my dog, I have cried in the lobby of my kids school, through doctors appointments, and in the car. I will probably cry again before I go to bed tonight. My coping mechanisms are crying and chocolate. We are currently out of chocolate.
This weekend was epically bad. #1 and went to a cheer competition in Dallas, Texas for the weekend. We were just there last month, staying in the same hotel. Saturday was day one of the competition and a long day. We left our hotel early and came back around 8:30. We were exhausted and showers and bed were needed. #1 and I were both in bed asleep by 9:30. Around 11:40 a cheer mom calls my cell phone and asks me to come down to the lobby. I get a sweatshirt and pants on and start making my way downstairs before I even thought about it. It was an automatic response. Halfway down I decided to look at my…