Friday, May 27, 2011

Crazy (again) after all these years

I posted an entry last week then promptly deleted it. It was about me and anxiety and depression. Not sure why I deleted it. I think it was because I just hated saying it out loud.

What I said out loud was that over the past few months I could feel myself slipping into a sort of depression. My anxiety ramped up and I have been spending hours at night imagining the worst things possible. That the rabbits in our garden will have destroyed our property so much that it will cost tens of thousands of dollars to fix. That the rabbits are rabid (do rabbits get rabies?). That spider season is almost here and I will never be able to spend anytime down in the family room because at any moment a gigantic spider will come racing at me. That the record rainfalls will destabilize our yard and the deck and front porch will collapse while the crawlspace fills up with water. That Jax will be a hunchback. That Dex will become addicted to drugs at an early age due to self-medicating while trying to deal with his own anxiety and depression. That Cars will develop skin cancer (he is my mole-y-est kid). That Stephen will drop dead of a heart attack and I will not remember to pay the bills. That I have a heart condition and will die of a heart attack after a couple of years of shuffling around attacked to an oxygen tank. That the earth will destroy itself with floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, cyclones (are they the same thing or are they like hurricanes?), hurricanes (but I never worried about the rapture cuz the guy who predicted it was just plain nuts).

All of these very irrational things. And I know they are irrational. And during the day they are so stupid and I wonder WTF I was doing even thinking these things. But it happens at night when I am trying to lay still and go to bed. I do not discuss them with Stephen because he just rolls his eyes at me and asks me why I cannot just be happy. I don't know why. I am always waiting for the shoe to drop. Always.

So, while I sit in bed and worry and fret I can feel my heart start to constrict and I am so *sure* that I have heart disease or clogged arteries or whatever.

I recognize that these are not the thoughts of a rational person.

I made an appointment to see my doctor for a physical. Well, I saw her nurse practitioner (I don't think I have even seen my doctor since Cars was an infant). Anyway, I went in and I just started spewing all of this stuff and I told her that I thought I was depressed or needed to get a hold of my anxiety and that I was sure I was having heart problems but I know I just feel it when I am stressed and blah blah blah blah!

Once she calmed me down, she asked me if I wanted to be medicated and I said no. Why? I had no idea why. I just didn't like the IDEA of it which is so stupid because if I had high cholesterol, I would take medication. If I had diabetes, I would take the medication. But because my brain chemistry is probably out of whack I will not do anything about it. Well, not entirely true. I just won't take medication for it. I will go to counseling and I did take a referral for that (but now school is almost out so when would I go and how long will it take and the office is not close and and and and...).

I kept wondering why I would not take medication. When I was diagnosed with PPD when Cars was 3 months old, my OB/GYN prescribed Zoloft. I promptly filled the prescription but never took one. I did start counseling and long time Blahg readers will remember that I went to Crazy Doctor for 2 years. I often wonder if I had taken Zoloft, would I have been happier, saner, more stable much sooner? Probably. Yet here I am, in almost the same place six years later and I will not take an anti-depressant.

I did call Killjoy (yes, that name is back) and told her what I had told the doctor. That I thought I was depressed. This was a big step for me to even tell my mom. To admit it out loud. (I mentioned something to Stephen last month but then we just shrugged it off). Anyway, Killjoy told me not to take any of that "crap" (medication) and that I would be better if I just went out and got a job. Niiiice. Thanks for the support.

Anyway, I did agree to take a prescription for anti-anxiety medication that I can take "as needed". My heart and arteries all sound find so she is sure that the chest pains I feel as I lay in bed stressing about the recession, war in Afghanistan, tornadoes in Missouri, flooding in Louisiana, nuclear reactor meltdown in Japan and starving in Africa and general health and well-being of my family is just from anxiety. My blood work should come back next week and if my thyroid levels are out of whack or my vitamin d are low, these could also be part of the reasons why I am feeling so blue. I am also having my cholesterol checked to make sure it is still fine (at night, I imagine that it is clogged with thick layers of plaque which is causing the pains in my chest).

In the meantime, I must force myself to get up and move about and go outside, go to the store, go to the gym, go go go... I have go to get better. I must.

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