Some pretty significant things had to happen for things to start turning around.
Although I refused to take the anti-depressant Rx prescribed to treat my postpartum, I could not refuse that my Hypothyroidism could not be fixed with my mind control.
I am no stranger to thyroid issues, so when my blood results finally indicated that I was suffering from the disease, I strangely felt some relief. Because it is a physical condition and is linked to depression, weight gain, constant fatigue, etc., this diagnosis at last gave me something that didn't feel like it was entirely my fault, something I could pull strength from rather than more guilt. I started taking my medication daily...
The financial crisis we were spiralling in came to a halt. That is not to say that we are completely out of the woods, but after hours and hours on end, days, weeks on the phone with Services Canada to reclaim the income which was owed, we received our missing months worth of payments. Slowly the noose loosened and we were able to breathe again. Buy groceries. Make our mortgage payments. Stop arguing about every little thing, every single penny scraped and spent.
Another major event that occurred was when out of nowhere my son was rushed twice to the emergency room, with what we found out later was pneumonia. This huge wake-up call scared us straight, and fast. There is nothing like fearing for the life of your little baby to bring you back to solid ground, to appreciate every medical professional out there, to thank God for every breath, and to remind you that love and family and health are really what matters. My husband and I were reinforced as partners again. In those petrifying hours at the hospital, and the many sleepless nights that followed once we were released to return home, we were able to see clearly (for the first time in what felt like eons,) and know that somehow we would figure things out.
When my son was well enough and the weather cooperated to head out for a walk, we did just that. We head outside on that spring like afternoon, with my baby boy and faithful lab, I heard every bird sing and smiled at every fluffy could in the bright blue sky. The breeze was fresh and the shining sun warmed our faces as we walked. Strangely I took a different turn and ran into a nurse I knew when I had been dealing with ripped nipples and breast feeding battles. At 32, with no prior history or cause or warning, she was learned she was fighting Breast Cancer. In light of her life changing circumstances, she was as cheerful and bright as the sun. Immediately, my own situation seemed minute. I was ashamed of myself for getting so bogged down with things that ultimately can be be corrected, which are in our control. Again, reminded, that health, love and family are all that matters.
The next day I walked again. With my baby boy and faithful lab. We dropped tulips off on her doorstep as she began a new session of treatments and eagerly awaited her second mastectomy; I wanted her to know that as she fights to save her own life, she helped me step up and save myself. Everyday since then, even as the stresses of work and home and finances and health continue to fluctuate, I get stronger. I hope she is too.
PLG ~ JKF
I'm back.
I wasn't sure that I would make it, but I did.
I know it's not over yet, but man oh man do I feel a million times better; reassured, positive. Me. Back to stay. Dare I say, new, improved, and better than ever! ... I hope... A work in progress, of course but at least I am back on the b/right side. I know you have heard me say similar things in the past, what between my long road of fertility struggles, other friendship dramas, work layoffs, healthy issues and marital challenges, it proves a constant story of ups and downs. As such is life, no?
Yes. When we fall, particularly eternal optimists types like myself, it can be a difficult, unclear, murky path back. I when I fall, I go down hard with a boom, usually slamming my head once or twice on the way. Being an extremely silver-lining, half-full kind of gal, I can only speak for myself; when I can't get up on my own, I see it as a very deep personal failure that questions everything I believe. When my glass is cloudy and suddenly running on empty, and it gives me the impression that I have no control. The darkness, hollowness and disparity can be intensely terrifying, and override just about every aspect of my life.
That is not to say that depression, other mentally stressful or difficult times are any less challenging for say, glass-medium-full type folk, but when it is your nature to smile and see the best in everything pretty much 90% of the time and in 90% of scenarios, when things get so bad, you can't muster the glimmer of a smile or even a smize with your eyes, the decent can quickly become a nasty spiral of self-contempt, disappointment, trepidation, dread, anxiety, and all the other obscure feelings that sinking comes along with. Every day is a battle, every hour is fight to stay afloat, to keep your head above water and tread just a little while longer. There comes a point where that little while longer is just too long, unbearable, and unreachable.
I am no expert, certainly not of the medical kind, so I can only tell you about my own experience with depression, post-partum, and in my case, with what became the cherry on top, discovering I have Hypothyroidism.
My expedition with these illnesses has come at a very timely exploration of the subjects; as it would appear every show (like: Dr. Oz, Katie, Doc Zone, and Ellen to name a few,) have covered one of them, including overused medications thereby prescribed, in great detail and evaluation recently. Heck, even a film about depression and mental illnesses is released, called, appropriately, "Call Me Crazy."
Or might I just be ultra sensitive and it looks that way? As though everywhere I turn, something is being directed at me so that I will snap out of it, be reassured that I am not alone. Or maybe it is the voice of God and the signs I have been deeply praying for to get me thru. Whatever it is, something worked. Something hit a nerve, spoke to me, and has awoken my true spirit. I am climbing out of my sinking pit.
And it was not the anti-depressants, which I had been prescribed, which I never took. That Rx may very well have been the official turning point, however. A serious wake-up call: *ring, ring, things are really going too far*.
It prompted my stubbornness, and my Aries Bull readied her horns. I re-prescribed my own Placebo, consisting of:
a) Putting things back into perspective,
b) Some serious thought and mind control, and
c) Checked myself! And my deteriorating determination.
Through it all, I prayed. I prayed a lot. To my God. To the Universe. Even to Jesus and Mary and deceased people I believe are in Heaven. I started reading the First Testament when prayer wouldn't come or I was too exhausted, or I felt exasperated, just to grip something outside of my batty brain and all her negativity. Some passages bore no relevance or were completely contrary to what I connect with, but others were exactly what I needed.
Clinging to my faith (my once again renewed faith,) was both humbling and therapeutic. It helped a great deal to a) put things into perspective. It made some of my largest obstacles and worries seem so minute in the bigger picture, which helped with c) checking myself. And so on.
Somehow it has worked. It's only the start of the week, mind you, but the clouds have cleared, outside and in.
read more, next post...
PLG ~ JKF
So I thought last year was my year, but according to my Chinese Astrology, this is my year (I was born under the Snake.) Ironic, since the slithery suckers feed my only phobia, however equally reassuring since this year, lucky number 2013, started out with my head screwed on backwards and with two left feet. I was stuck on spin and couldn't see my way.
Shortly after my last post, my son, myself, and my husband fell ill. It doubled thru the house lasting much longer than a common cold, and knocked me flat on my butt. Simultaneously, my son's teething reached a new level of pain that sadly, not even the best teething necklace or max amount of Infants Tylenol could take away, (although they did make it a million times more bearable), and then, perfectly timed we thundered into December's holiday season with the arrival of my grandmother in-law and the start of her 2 month long visit from France! 2 months is long for anyone, but mix in my seemingly never-ending, far-more-time-consuming-than-I-anticipated TEFL course;
ongoing sleep deprivation and overall lagging from the month prior; the stresses of the Christmas season plus the pressures of a perfect 'baby's first', along with the woes of maternity leave pay and financial difficulties; and there you have one totally overwhelmed, overweight, over emotional little mama lost.
Fortunately, once my tears had dried and things started to slowly resemble a routine again in early January, I finally had my long overdue follow-up with my post natal nurse. This was a service I had hesitated accepting; one that became more of a friendly chat than medical evaluation; and the same service that may have changed my life. Turns out that even though the symptoms I was suffering - feelings of darkness and of being overwhelmed, like the world was on top of me and suddenly nothing was turning out the way I had - greatly resembled PPD and it was time to get help.
This was the most awful thing I had ever heard while it was also a great relief. It gave a reason to the shift in my personality, the missing optimism I pride myself on, the frequent crying and edginess. But I refused to take anti-depressants, and something about the diagnosis just didn't feel right. I LOVE being a mom, LOVE my little angel more than I can put into words, and feel our bond with everything in me...
When my second follow-up and short quiz showed worse results, she insisted it was time for some blood work. My blood test screened for Thyroid, low and behold, the sky cleared! Taking medication that corrects a significant problem in my body was nowhere near as terrifying as the former. Yes, it might be for life, but it is a way easier pill to swallow, literally, than so many of the alternatives I might have been facing. A couple weeks in, and I am feeling light years away from where I was a we rang in the new year just over a month ago. I feel, like me. Busy, stressed, tons going on, but me. Half full me. See the bright side me. Finding time to get things done me. Not some stranger hanging out under the dark clouds.
And thank goodness. Thank God for hearing my prayers.
And happy new year! Again.
This is why I love the Chinese calendar. It gives a new year a new boost, so the rest of the year can head in the right direction. With head on straight. Left foot. Right.
Babysteps ;)
PLF JKF
