Me and My Happy Pill... Together Again

Michael Hyatt... major big shot... whom my brother encouraged me to follow, to learn the ways of the publishing world and a million other things I didn't know... said not to blog more than once a day.  I am breaking this rule... as first, i realize you may not even read this...  and second blogging is my therapy.

Remember I said I went off my crazy pill?  Well... that was a dumb thing.  I am feeling crazy.  I am feeling overwhelmed.  I am feeling very down.  I HATE THIS!!!  I hate that my body needs a pill to make me feel "normal."  I was never like this.  I was alway a happy go lucky kind of person.  

Ever since that ridiculously crazy weekend in Tennessee with my dad waking up from the dead, my middle brother going crazy and me feeling very unsafe for the first time in a long time... I needed a pill.  I found myself ... depressed.  I had dark thoughts all the time and felt like everything was too hard and not worth it.

Once I found the right dosage and pill, life started to feel much better and under control.  That was 3 years ago or so.  Then I went off my pill a few weeks ago.  Part of it was my doctor was passing on her patients to another one and truth be told, it was lot of effort (to me) to phone the new doctor, go through all the things such as a getting to know you process and frankly, I hated that I had to recite all my stuff to a new guy.  It was too much work.  So, I didn't.

I decided that I was better.  I did feel better.  I felt like myself for the first time in years.  I was so energized.

I am not sure what is happening.  Maybe I am crashing.  Maybe I just have a lot going on.  Sanj is gone a lot... with work, committees and hockey.  Often I am a single parent all day.  That would send anyone kooky, right?  Then I have goals and dreams... and I get impatient because my life... real life, keeps getting in the way.  Do the kids really need to eat?  You know what I mean?

So... I am back here again.  I am not as dark as before.  I am just feeling low and irritated.  My sister in law was here a few days ago and was reading a blog.  She looked at me and asked if I didn't care that people knew I was on or needed my pill?  I really don't.  Here's the thing, the other day I was actually feeling irresponsible about just saying that....  that I went off my pill.  That was not the best thing.  I know.  I know that this is so important to be monitored by a doctor.

Please don't do what I did... it was stupid.  I also write because I can't help feeling the way I feel. I can't help the lowness that comes over me.  Depression sucks.  I wish that I knew how to fix it.  Yet I know that medicine works.  I know that I need to go to my new doctor and tell him that I need to change the med or dosage.  I probably need a smaller dosage now.  I don't like that my hyperness is being squashed.  I like my energy and need it to get through my day feeling satisfied.

My  brother told me to write shorter blogs... sorry.  I do plan to follow that ... but this time I am needing to get this out.

I think that if depression and pills were looked at differently, maybe people would be willing to seek help and start feeling better.  I think that it is too bad that most seek help when it is really bad.  I can name a handful of people that need a happy pill.  Yet they don't see it for what it it.  They don't think that they are depressed.  I am waiting for the time when we look at depression as we do about wearing glasses.  I can't see... so I wear glasses.  I cant' help my feelings, so I need a pill.

I am going to call it my happy pill from now on.  I know I am not crazy... but I do like calling it that.  I realize that others could take it the wrong way.  I already know that I am crazy and there is no pill that can help that.  :)

So... I can't wait to feel better.  I can't wait to feel "normal" whatever that is.

Depression sucks.  So just swallow your pill.   And... if this is you... and you have not done anything... Just Do it.  Get help.

Thank you God, for my happy pill.

Help!

I have a good life. For many that peek into my life, they see a good life.

Great hubby, wonderful kids and an overall happy home.

Sometimes having a happy home is work. I didn't grow up in a "happy home" so I have no map of how to have that. It comes from trial and error. But most of all, it comes from love.

I got a letter from a friend that is struggling. As I read her letter, I suddenly found myself being able to relate too well. A pit of darkness.

This is something that I have struggled with for many years. I just didn't put it all together. First, it was after baby 4. I had a rough time. I didn't tell anyone. I just cried in my corner. Then put on my happy face and went about my day. Until, I needed my corner again.

With each baby, my darkness after them grew. I just didn't realize it. One morning I snapped... there was laundry, beds unmade and an over all mess. Lined at the door was my family, all ready to head off to school and leave me with the mess. I snapped. I screamed and yelled.

They went to school. I am not sure what Sanj said to them...but along the lines that mommy wasn't feeling well.

One of the boys teacher approached me at church. "Are you feeling better? Tyler asked for prayer for his mom. He said you weren't feeling well."

I felt so bad.

Over the years, I have really struggled with finding happiness inside. There so many obstacles.

Most of them had to do with my family. My mom and dad and brother. When I was dragged back to that world... it was so hard. Yet I allowed myself to be pulled back. They are my family.

I love them.

After my father's illness and reappearance from death... I was lost. Everything was dark. Everything was hard. Too hard. I remember so many times thinking how easy it would be to just end all the pain and darkness. I just couldn't see light. Not even in my babes. That scared me.

It was so hard to go to my doctor. It was so hard to physically lift that phone and call. It was so hard to say, "help."

Depression is something that many people deal with everyday. I never thought it was depression because overall I am a happy person. I like to have fun. I like to play. I love life.

I had a warped sense of what a depressed person was. I had a picture of the 1950s definition.

A depressed person or a person suffering from depression was me.

It's genetic. There is a strong history of depression in the blood lines. We just didn't talk about it.

You so often hear me talk about my happy pill. It keeps me level. It helps me be me... the me you love, know and see.

I am OK with that. I am OK with being a person that lives with depression. It is just a disorder like diabetes. I need meds to keep me being me.

So... why am I writing this? Because someone needs to hear it. Who? God will tug on that person's heart. I just know this is what I am suppose to share.

I have a happy life. I have a good life. I have help. My little white pill keeps me level to help me be me.

Thank you, God, for my little white pill. Thank you for help that is there.

Ask for help... if you need it. It is so worth it.