Monday, March 19, 2018


I called my doctor and got a refill of one of the meds.  No questions asked, just that I follow up in a month.  That's the thing about all the doctors I've seen or talked to about this - they're all too willing to let the patient self-diagnose.  Good thing it wasn't for pain pills.  ha

I picked them up about a week, ago but haven't started taking them, yet.  She called in too high a dose for me, anyway, so I'd have to break them in half, which is doable. 

I'm having anxiety about taking them, though.  Part of my brain still thinks it can manage without them and self-medicate with exercise or something.  Another part of my brain reminds the first part that we can hardly get out of bed a lot of days, how on earth are we supposed to exercise? Another part of my brain was stupid and read the paper that comes with the prescription - you know, the one with all the warnings and possible side effects? I might as well have googled my ailments and come to the conclusion that it's likely cancer.  This part of my brain is cohorts with the first part of my brain.  Maybe it's the same part... who knows.

All I know is I want to be rid of the worry and fear and failure-y feelings.  I want to be able to act instead of becoming stress-paralyzed by the overwhelming everything that is life. 

But I don't want the side effects of the medication.  The ones I experienced, before, were bizarre.  Lots of yawning, slowed pupillary reflex, loss of balance, ringing in my ears, and brain buzzes to name a few.  A possible side effect is high cholesterol, something I was under the impression I had been dealing with my whole life (hereditary).  What if it gets worse? What if it was made worse, before, and I didn't know about it?  This is one of the few anti-anxiety/depressant drugs that can cause weight loss.  I did not experience that last time.  Wouldn't mind it, though.  haha 

I want to be able to think clearly.  I want to not go into a rage every time someone makes a mess or there are extra crumbs on the counter.  I want to be chill.  I want to be able to move forward with things I want to accomplish instead of trying to constantly escape reality because it's too hard.

Are the side effects worse than what I'm feeling almost every day, these days? Isn't this irrational fear, this anxiety about taking the meds the very reason I considered going back on them, in the first place?

Can I just reboot my brain? Maybe a lobotomy.  ha

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

What is normal?

I need to write something out. 

I have anxiety issues.  This seems to be a growing trend and totally cliche and I hate it.  I wish I wasn't one of "those" people.  {I actually know someone who has never had thoughts of depression or anxiety and I envy her.  I also kind of think she's not being completely honest with herself - almost as if she's trying to convince herself she never has.  She does mention it quite a bit, I've noticed.}

I hate anxiety.  It's affecting my life.  I can hardly get out of bed in the morning.  I fear rejection - I was fired from a job not too long, ago, and I thought I was over it.  I'm not.  I fear rejection from my kids, my friends, my family, other potential employers... I have it in my head I'm really not as good as I thought I was and made myself out to be.  I feel like a fake and a failure and I hate this.  I feel like I'm self-sabotaging.  It's been almost 2 1/2 weeks since I lost the job.  How long does it take someone to move on, to stop feeling like a loser? Is this the normal "grieving" time or is anxiety keeping me from moving on with my life and getting over it, already? I don't feel the anger, anymore.  I'm actually quite glad I got fired - the hours and the person I would've had to work with really wouldn't have been as great as I originally thought.  So why, then, am I having such a hard time with this?

My husband has told me a couple times he thinks I should consider going back on medication.  I have literally fought him on this matter.  I've been very adamant about NOT needing medication, that all I need to do is exercise and I'll be fine.  But anxiety makes it hard to even want to get dressed, let alone work out. 

I remember at one point during my weaning off the meds process that I felt pretty good.  I was off one of the meds and on a smaller dose of another, the one I was originally on.  I want to feel like that, again.  I haven't felt like that in I don't even know how long.  I want to be able to take control of my life instead of always feeling like I have no control, whatsoever.  I want to be able to deal with disappointment, better.  I know I'm a positive, optimistic person.  I never give up.  But I feel that person can't quite reach the surface, right now.  I feel like I'm drowning.  Depression? Not so much.  But this anxiety is killing me. 

Maybe I do need the meds.  I really did feel it was necessary to get off of them so I could at the very least see what it was I really needed to treat, if anything.  {One of the meds had me feeling and being diagnosed as bipolar.  I was also feeling quite depressed.  I can see clearly, now, that this is not my issue, so going off served its purpose.}  Maybe they'll give me just what I need to be able to think clearly and keep moving forward instead of fretting about everything and feeling failure-y.  Because I really want that.  My life needs that. 

Monday, October 2, 2017

Moving forward

I think things are better.  I still have moments of anxiety.  It mostly rears its ugly head when there's a possibility of a mess or too much money spent.  If I overcrowd my schedule, I tend to have an anxiety attack, so I'm learning how to not do that without getting rid of everything.

I'm thinking more clearly, lately.  I've been in better control of my thoughts and actually get things done instead of just overthinking them.  I've learned how to better manage my time and keep things going instead of just being run over by life.

I still try to immerse myself in all things spiritual, when I can.  I'm learning more about being a mother and not feeling guilty all the time by not owning my kids' choices.  I'm learning to communicate better with my husband.

In all, I think going off medication was one of the best things I could've done for my progression in many ways.  I'd do it, again.

Moving forward.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017


Anxiety is my constant companion, these days.  It's there... all the time.  When I wake up, I feel it weighing me down.  It's all I can do to get out of bed.  After I drop my kids off at school, it gets heavier.

I remember this feeling - like I've always known it.  Always worrying.  Always not feeling good enough.  Always panicking.  Always on the edge of rage.  Always tense and constricted in my chest.  It's always been there.  I never knew it was there until it wasn't.  That's what I noticed very first about the meds I started taking for my postpartum depression - the lack of anxiety.  I didn't yell, anymore.  Crumbs didn't drive me mad, anymore.  Messes were still messes but without the world coming to an end.  I could finally deal.  I could breathe.

But those meds started making me crazy.  I found myself wanting to end.  And since I know too much for that to become a reality, I found myself wanting to cut myself.  I could see how that would actually be a release for the anguish that was flooding my thoughts.  I'm thankful I was still "there" enough to recognize the need to get out while I still had a glimpse of who I was.  So, I stopped the meds.

But, the anxiety.  I don't think there's a day that goes by I don't cry or feel guilty or want to scream.  

I was told in a blessing that if I exercise, if I read my scriptures, I will be healed.  I've been told that my whole life.

I've got the scriptures part done.  I read them every day.  I know I could be better at actually studying them, but I'm reading them and that's more than I've done in years.  

The exercise part, though.  The time slot during my day for that would be 5:45 am, after I drop my kids off at seminary.  All I want to do that early in the morning is crawl back under my weighted blanket that makes me feel safe and held, down.  I don't want to stay awake.  The rest of my days are literally packed, hour to hour, with going and doing.  After the boys go to bed at night, all I want to do is sit and not do or be, anymore.  

I keep thinking about my thyroid and how it might actually be the culprit and maybe it has been all my life.  I'm on meds for that.  But it's only been a month and I've read it can take up to 6-8 weeks for the effect to take place.  I think that's an excuse, though.  Like I'm avoiding the obvious.  I feel like one of the people in the bible who simply had to look up to be healed... and I'm not doing it.

Make the time.  That's what my blessing said, quite specifically.  Make the time.

I have been trying, today, to have a conversation with myself.  I remind myself how awful this feels and how, yes, it would be hard to stay up in the morning and actually do something physical.  But it would be better than this.  It would make this go away.  I would be able to deal, again.  I would be able to breathe.  I need to make this a habit before my son drives and I don't have to take them to seminary, anymore.  I need to make this a habit before it gets dark in the morning and I really won't want to get out of bed until the last minute.  I feel so desperate for this to happen but can't seem to find it in myself to take that first step.  

But I know the Lord will hold me up.  He'll help me take that step if I just let Him.  I need to let Him.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017


I know why the Lord gives us trials.

I may have said, before, I feel as though I've been stripped of my very self.  In my head, I see a flat surface where I used to be.  I feel like I need to build what was there, back up.

So many heart-wrenching things have been finding their way through my mind, lately.  That seems extreme, as I re-read it.  But in the moment, that's how it has felt.  It's almost as though I'm raw and extremely sensitive to anything emotional in any way because I need to relearn how to regulate those emotions.

I've been clinging to the Lord.  I can't imagine going through this without Him.

As I do this, I'm learning that this is happening for a reason.  More than many, I'm sure.  But one for sure:  so I can be close to Him.

I know it's been said we only really turn to Him in times of sorrow or adversity.  If I was my happy, cheerful self, would I be as aware of His message for me?

I only want to use His building blocks as I reform who I am.

I've been immersing myself in all things spiritual.  It has brought me much comfort.

This, in particular, has been a sweet blessing.  {The wrong song was attached to that.  Not sure how that happened.  But, it's correct, now.}

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Finding Joy... and myself.

I tried writing, yesterday.  But, I couldn't.  Not without being completely negative and depressed.

I watched the movie, Inside Out, yesterday.  It was my first time seeing it all the way, through.  I loved it, to say the very least.

*Spoiler Alert if you haven't seen it*

I was so disgusted with Sadness.  I wanted her kicked out of Head Quarters.  I hated that she kept trying to ruin the happiness.  Joy tried very hard to keep her from touching any memories at all, which I was rooting for.

Then Sadness really screwed things up and almost lost the Core Memories and got herself and Joy sucked out of Head Quarters.  Basically, she was ruining everything.  It was because of all this, Rylie was starting to lose track of who she was inside.  She was crumbling.

But then Joy made a discovery with one of the Core Memories she was trying so hard to protect... If it hadn't been for Sadness, the happy part of the memory might never have happened.

I feel like I've been stripped of my very own Joy because of loser Sadness.

I've been sort of freaking out, lately, worrying that the medicine is done doing its thing and this is as good as it gets.  I read a couple of places online that one of the meds I was on has the ability to permanently damage one's brain.  That had me really freaking out.  (This is why they tell you to stay off the internet when you're facing an ailment of sorts.)

As I was driving, yesterday, I had somewhat of an epiphany, though.  Without Sadness, we wouldn't know Joy.  I got to thinking, maybe the medicine is done and I need to relearn how to be happy.  I learned a long time, ago, that happiness is a choice - you have to choose to be happy.  I have always believed that I had that ability - to be happy, no matter what.  My happy muscle has been in a wheelchair, so to speak, for years.  It hasn't had to do anything because there were meds doing all the work.  Well, now the meds are gone.  And I have to learn how to use that muscle, again.  I have to exercise it and make it strong, again.  And, so far - this is hard.

I read another's story of finding strength, this morning.  She referred to the song Moana sings to Te-Ka, as she walks towards her, at the end:

I have crossed the horizon to find you.
I know your name.
They have stolen the heart from inside you.
But this does not define you.
This is not who you are.
You know who you are.

Then she goes on to write, "You are not defined by your darkest hour.  You are greater than what has been stolen from you.  It is never too late to heal.  It is never too late to make a fresh start.  It is never too late to have your heart restored."

I want this for myself.