I’ve tried to write this so many times . . . and just gave up. I didn’t know where to start. Still don’t so I’m just going to spit out words until something makes some sense. But there is no sense to depression and anxiety. If you’ve suffered with either, you know what I mean. Even if you haven’t but a loved one has, you still understand that there is no rationale for the depths of despair that come with what I now call “the black hole”. However, since May is Mental Health Awareness Month, today seems as good a day as any to write this very personal post in hopes that, not only I can find some sense to it all, but maybe someone else can too.
Sidenote: Were you aware there even was a Mental Health month? I wasn’t. Thank you to Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, for her forthright posts and mentioning it. Not that I’m doing anything differently this month . . . as if I could. I go day-to-day, minute-to-minute.
I was diagnosed in 2015 with ‘clinical’ depression and anxiety ‘disorder’. (If I put little thingies around ‘clinical’ and ‘disorder’ they don’t seem so serious to me.) I’ve had depression many times before and certainly anxiety – I think most any mother/stepmother can relate – but this is the first time I felt non-functional and sought medical help.
So let’s see . . . my hubs died in 2012, my brother in March 2014 and Mom in October 2014. I made it nearly 6 months before I realized I was in trouble.
Truthfully, I don’t think I did realize it. I think my doctor recognized it before I did and suggested a mild anti-depressant. Not too long after that my anxiety was demonstrated in physical tremors for which he put me on a mild anti-anxiety med – not a benzodiazepine (Valium, Klonopen, etc.) – which helped tremendously . . . for a few months. Anyway, fast-forward to the triggers.
Triggers. Ah, yes. You get used to that word when you’re in therapy. But I’m jumping ahead of myself. In January 2016 I had 3 major triggers that sent me reeling. Not what I’d call panic attacks . . . more like meltdowns where I’d completely lose it. Sometimes for no particular reason, or so I thought at the time. At any rate, Dr. put me on a 10 day course of Ativan – a popular benzodiazepine (sedative). I thought, Wow, where has this stuff been all of my life. Thing is, I wasn’t scheduled to see Dr. for 12 days. Two days without sedatives.
Houston, we have a problem.
to be continued