Thursday, August 23, 2012

Update on the Crazies

I'm having a pity party.  I'm in a funk.


First, let me preface this by saying that, before the great miracle of my life that is zoloft, when I would get in a funk like this, I would lay on the couch sobbing, sure that I would never EVER feel better again.  I couldn't ever see past the RIGHT NOW.  I remember (three years ago!!) rocking Warren in the middle of the night, crying hysterically because I just KNEW that I would never sleep again.  Not that I wouldn't get any more sleep that night, or that the next few months would be rough, but there was just not a single shadow of a doubt in my mind that I would literally never close my eyes and rest again for the history of the rest of my entire life.

Pretty drastic.  But that's how it was.  And when I would get into a funk like the one I'm having now, it was the same thing, I would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was my new life, I would feel THIS BAD for every minute of every day that I was alive.  FOREVER.

And I'm not gonna lie, when I finally (FINALLY!!!) asked for help and started taking an anti depressant, there was a tiny part of me that sorta thought maybe I'd never ever be sad or overwhelmed again for the rest of my life.  I'm an extremist, you know? All or nothing.  And of course (OF COURSE) I knew that that wasn't going to happen, not really.  But I'd never taken a drug like this, and I wasn't sure what to expect. So yeah, I thought maybe just MAYBE it was going to be all roses and rainbows and unicorns and my house would be clean and Scott would mind me and Nick would continue to get paid but never actually have to go in, and I'd just have permagrin and life would be perfect.

And you wanna know something?

It actually turned out even BETTER than all that.

It's only been three months.  Three months exactly, because I'm almost out of pills and I have to go in tomorrow and (hopefully not have to) beg for more. I'm not sure how long it takes for the meds to be fully in my system.  When I talked to the therapist, she had me agree to take these meds for twelve full months, or come back to see her and switch to something else.  Basically, I promised not to just quit on my own. So that leads me to believe that it takes a long time for them to really work.

But ya'll.  They work.  For me.  Obviously, everyone is different, blah blah blah.  I'm clearly not qualified to give medical advice, and I don't think anyone in her right mind (haha) should look to me for the right way to do things.  TALK TO A PROFESSIONAL. But for truly is a miracle.

Instead of laying (lying?) on the couch sobbing, I'm just dealing with the funk like a normal person.

It's so weird.

So yes.  I still get sad.  And overwhelmed.  And nervous.  And even a little anxious.  I still don't like to talk to strangers.  We're trying to figure out when we can pull the kids out of school to move to London Adjacent Baby!! and I tried to get a friend to call them for me, but she bailed, and it was looking like I was gonna have to do it myself.  And I didn't want to.  I don't want to talk to people, I really don't.  But, instead of reacting the way I would have three months ago, hyperventilating, writing out a script, taking a sleeping pill the night before so I didn't lay (lie?) in bed all night worrying about it, I was just going to do it. Pick up the phone, dial, and ask three simple questions of whoever (whomever?) answered. It still sucked, but it wasn't THE END OF THE ENTIRE WORLD.

In the end, Nick rolled his eyes and just did it for me.  In case anyone is dying to know, in Hawaii (according to Nick who swears this is what the office girl said) if you are present for twenty days of the quarter (the quarters are between 43 and 45 days) you get credit and like pass or whatever.  And kindergarten isn't even mandatory anyway.  So right now, we're planning to send them the week after Thanksgiving and head to the states that Saturday night, arriving Sunday morning, Dec 2.  We'll divide our time between Stuart, Disney, Auburn, and Biloxi, then head for London Adjacent Baby!! around maybe Dec 28.  The schools I'm looking into don't seem to start until Jan 8, so that should give us time to find a house and get settled and all that.

See? I was nervous and a little worked up, but it didn't keep me from continuing the activities of daily living.  And that, for me, is such a huge fricking deal that I can barely put it in words.

To be nervous, but still able to get off the couch, make breakfast, brush my hair...

Wow.  Every now and then (usually when I'm putting pen to paper here on this internets screen) it really hits me how bad it was.  I told you before, I didn't even consider that I was depressed until I started talking to that therapist.  I ONLY went in for help with the anxiety.

Anyway.  I'm in a funk.  We've all got head colds.  Nick is busy with work, so he's spending three full days out there, which puts me back on single parent duty for two nights (zoloft didn't cure my hatred of bath time!!) and four straight mornings.  I just don't know why mornings are so fucking hard.  I do EVERYTHING right.  I pack lunches the night before.  I lay out clothes and uniforms and shoes and socks.  I get up before everyone else.  But I still can't get everything done, we're almost always late, and I always end up screaming at someone or another.

All five of us are having some sort of horror movie allergy attack.  Snot running all willy nilly, sinus pressure headache, watery eyes, raw noses- it ain't pretty round these parts.

Our house is overflowing.  Somehow, in my mission to purge the house for the move, I have managed to bring in five new things for every one thing that I've donated out.  I can't walk a straight path from the kitchen to the stairs.  I can't even get into the closet under the stairs, which sucks because that's where the printer is. My kids are trying to become self reliant, so the bigs are getting down the dishes and stuff they need for meals, which means every single cabinet door is always open, which drives me INSANE.  Daisy unloads the tupperware drawer seventeen times a day.  She also drags out all of her blankies, which drives me crazy too.

But I'm dealing.  You know? One day they'll be big, really big instead of six and five, and they'll close the cabinets themselves.  We'll live in a house for  more than a year, so I'll get settled and a little more organized.  Warren can't cry forever.  He's been crying for three and a half years, he's GOT to be getting tired.  Scott will either learn to listen and obey, or we'll find one of those military boys' academy type places for him.  Ava WILL master brushing her own hair, I can feel it.

See? Before zoloft, not a single one of those thoughts above would have penetrated my muddled mind. This wasn't going to be a post about zoloft when I started, but apparently that's what was on my mind, so there you go.

If you're in a praying mood, please pray that our orders come through soon so I can get started on the medical screenings, visa applications, and finding out how to get reimbursed for private school, if that's the route we pick.  Please pray that nothing happens with Nick's relief, who is scheduled to be here at the end of October, because if something DOES happen, this is all up in the air. I've decided that instead of attending a Bible study this semester, I'm going to be the toddler teacher so that another woman who's maybe where I was last January has the chance to go and get a little break once a week.  There's this kid who cried the ENTIRE TWO AND A HALF HOURS YESTERDAY.  So please please PLEASE pray that either he gets over it, or something happens to my ears, because I can't handle that again next week.  Zoloft of no, that shit just ain't gonna fly.  Lastly, I have to run to walmart in a few.  Pray that there's not another single person in the store, but that if there has to be a few people, they're not a bunch of morons who get in my way and ruin my life.  And I know it's a stretch, but if while I'm gone, my house could pick itself up...that would be a pretty awesome miracle.

Anyway.  As always, if you're reading this because you googled something along the lines of 'do I need to be on an antidepressant?' please PLEASE consider talking to your doctor or NP.  I can't describe the difference it's making in my life.

Engelbrecht out.


  1. I love you. Zoloft is a miracle drug. I feel exactly the same way. I don't plan on ever stopping taking it.

  2. You can start working now on the letters/paperwork for DoDEA, the people who reimburse for schools :)

  3. Robin sent me over. It sounds like you have a lot on your plate. I can't help with much, but I am trying to single handedly rid the world of annoying Walmart shoppers. I can do that for you. Good luck on your move and I am glad to hear that Zoloft is giving you some relief.