Since my last post, anxiety and depression completely took over my life and I broke one evening. It was a long time coming, and I am actually shocked now that it took so long for me to break. I slipped into a panic attack, where I sobbed and hyperventilated and felt like my heart would burst from my chest. Three months of heart palpitations, insomnia, muddy thoughts, and feelings of panic and depression all fell on me at once, with the weight of grief giving them the extra force they needed to crush me. My husband received a text from me that caused him to worry, and when he called, I could barely form words. He rushed home and spent the day with me, cleaning the house, making supper, and holding me close. I don't think he realized until that day how badly I was doing.
Sometimes I look at myself almost like I am standing outside my body, and I think about how startlingly unhappy I am. Most days it is all I have been able to do to convince myself that I don't want to die, and that life is worth living. I don't intend to hurt myself, but I have had little will to live. It is like the joy has been sucked out of my life...kind of like one of those airtight clothes storage bags. I feel shriveled and pointless and other a lot of the time. But even though it has been a truly black time, I can still see from my low vantage point that this is not the bottom. I am afraid of the real bottom.
I returned to work this week. It has been a mixed experience. People's reactions are not always what I would expect, but I will say that everyone has been respectful. I feel entirely like a self conscious outsider, but I think that will ease in time as I learn to be among the living again. A glimmer of hope seeped in this week. For the first time, I have felt kind of useful and even sharp. I even laughed for real a few times as I sat in familiar surroundings and engaged in the banter. When I get home, though, the worries crowded my mind again.
Experiencing this prolonged period of anxiety has really opened my eyes to how it has been stealing from me for years. It has negatively affected and even destroyed some of my relationships. It contributes to my low self esteem and self worth. It steals joy by leeching worry into my thoughts until they spin and push me off course. It steals my sleep too, and it has since I was a child.
My doctor prescribed me antidepressants and sleep pills to help even me out. I am hopeful that they will do just that. Honestly, I regret not taking them during my last major depression. Insomnia really does take things from bad to worse. Of course, this medication means that we have to stop trying to conceive for awhile. I was really upset by that at first, but I am at peace with it now. Almost grateful, really, for a reason to not try. I don't think I was ready. So if, when this fall rolls around, I am doing better, I will ask the doctor to wean me off of these drugs, and we will start over again. My doctor said, "I think you owe yourself the pleasure of enjoying your next pregnancy." I think she is right. It's going to be so hard when the time comes, but I know I can't make it harder on myself by rushing into it.
Today, I am feeling almost positive. I decided today that this devastation and this crash are not going to kill me. I am too pissed off about my experience to let it beat me. I realized today that I have been letting this situation turn me into a victim, but no more. I am going to get my life back. If that means a new job, a new haircut, or new friends, I am going to do whatever it takes to get there. If it means risks, I'll take them. At the same time, I care so much less about the piddly things now. Perspective is an incredible gift, and I am not going to waste it.
I ran into this quote today, and I'll close with it. It made me think about how I have always put off doing the things I want to do, and how I have let life happen to me instead of taking charge. If losing Haven did nothing else, it made me realize how short life is and how nothing is guaranteed. So why wait?
"It's a terrible thing, I think, in life to wait until you're 'ready.' I have this feeling now that actually no one is ever ready to do anything. There is almost no such thing as 'ready.' There is only now." - Hugh Laurie
(Thank you firstly for your comments on my blog. I wish we didn't feel one anothers pain in the sense that neither had to experience this, but I am glad to not be alone and I hope you know you can always find comfort in communicating with me as well.)
ReplyDeleteI hear so much of myself in your words. I have a three year old at home and it was just his birthday. I lectured (nicely) everyone before the party to please not mention Wylie, my loss, etc. as to not ruin Ethan's day. I wanted it to be about him, about love, about happiness and he was so excited the whole day. Once in a while people came up to me and said "you're so strong" with a hug and I wanted to throw myself through a window because, no. I mean, yes, I am strong, but I sometimes strength isn't a choice. I have a three year old to live for. It doesn't mean I don't spend every night awake until 3 a.m. or crying until I vomit because -- well, because I do. I am also familiar with depression and anxiety, having suffered (but nothing like this) on and off over my life, and sometimes I wonder if I didn't have my son if I would have any will to live. It's a scary place to be. It really is. I know our situations are very different but my worst pain feels your worst pain and my heart truly feels your heart.
We are waiting to try to conceive until likely around March or so. People ask "why so long?" but my doctor said something similar, about needing to be in a better mental place. She's right. It's already a situation so difficult that many people can't understand it.
That's a beautiful quote. And it's so true. <3
Thank you, Lindsay. It really means a lot to know I am not alone. I think that is why I voraciously read EVERYTHING when I first lost Haven. I needed to know I wasn't the only one, I wasn't crazy. That there was life after this. It's still hard to believe that, but I'm choosing to trust the other moms out there who have reached out and told me it does eventually become easier to bear. That joy can come back again.
ReplyDeleteIt is so hard to wait; I want to be pregnant so badly! But I also want to enjoy my next pregnancy more than I know I could right now.
It's funny in a way, because the crash comes in stages. For me, I keep thinking I've reached the worst part and it's all up from here, but then I reach another worst part. One of these days, I will really be past the worst part. I can't wait.