Monday, September 27, 2004

I will be ok.

I will be ok.

I have been taking things people say to me, way too much to heart lately. And I mean way too much. I need to relax a bit. I need to not spazz so much.

It's hard though. Being hormonal? Sure, that has a ton to do with it, but besides that, why am I such a big baby about shit? Why do I feel the need to defend everything I do, say or think, just because someone makes a comment about something stupid or silly or even just different than my own opinions?

I do it constantly with my mother in law, I do it with friends, I do it with my husband, I do it even with people I do not know.

Know what scares me the most? That after this baby is born, I am petrified I will get post partum depression again. I suffered horribly after the birth of my son. I suffered after the birth of my daughter, and ignored it. I was miserable for years, even taking to trying to numb myself with forms of stupidity I will not even dare post on here. But, after the birth of my son, I told the doctor. I sought help. I got help. I was on antidepressants for over 2 years, and then realized that they were not for me anymore. I was having what seemed like a relapse, an adverse reaction to the drugs. What seemed to help me at one time was not helping me anymore. I needed to get off of the drugs. So I weaned myself. It took me a year to do so, but as I did, I felt so much better. I felt like myself. I was not in the funk I was once in.

To wean off of them made me seriously ill. Seriously physically ill. I had tremors, sweats, nausea, brain zaps. The most sickening feelings I have ever experienced. I hung in there, though. And it all went away and when it did, I was me again.

I became a horny woman, I wanted my husband. I could feel again. I could think clearly, and not be in a medicated fuzz. I was me! And soon after being me!!! mee!!!! Meeee!!!!! I got pregnant. And then I freaked. What if's flying around my head "what if my hormones make me need the meds again?... what if the pregnancy makes me relapse again? What if this and what if that?" But I hung in there. I just rode it out. I rode it out with a hand on my hip and my head held up high and I told my depression, you aint fucking wanted here anymore. You are gone.

But depression has always reared it's monstrous and ugly head in my life. It knows when I am most vulnerable, it waits like a vulture above me. It waits for me to just cave into my shell.

I refuse to cave in. I must remind myself of that, when I am sleep deprived with a newborn, a three year old and a six year old. I will never give in to that ugly monster. I will not let it feed on me.


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