depression

On the Threshold of Eternity. In 1890, Vincent van Gogh

apparently the meds i switched over to a while back are not as effective as i would have hoped they would be.

[i am going to see my therapist on monday. just making the appointment made me feel a bit better.]

oh, i realize i have external circumstances pressing in on me. trying to remain sober. trying to feel better about my self. trying to be a good, faithful wife when i simply feel like a roommate. my therapist will help me sort through all of that and if she feels it is a medical issue, i know she will refer me out to have my script changed.

[which i dread, but it would be better than feeling like this.]

i have been in an odd place. depression sucks, people. it is a dark area, one that can be very lonely and isolated. however, since i am in AA, it has taught me i need to go work, attend meetings, talk to people on the telephone. it helps. i guess. if i were left to my own devices, however, i would not leave the house, i would open a big ole bottle of red, turn off the phone, and watch romantic movies.

instead, however, i do the next right thing.

[off to a meeting.]

melt down.

Salvadore Dali
The Persistence of Memory

~+~+~

i sat through my meeting last night and it was okay. yeah, just okay.

the promise they discussed the third promise, which is "we will comprehend the word serenity.” i feel a lot of things right now, and other than reciting the "serenity prayer" at the beginning of the meeting, that is as close as i have come to feeling serene.

i listened to others share their stories of serenity, how the calm overtook them at a moment they least expected it...how adversity showed its ugly face and they were peaceful. all good stories, all true from what i gather, but serenity is elusive right now in my life.

for those of you who have migrated over from martha, martha, you know this is not an unusual state. the only thing unusual is that i hadn't had a drink in 38 days (as of yesterday).

so i meditate on this whole serenity thing (after having had a stressful day at work) on the way home from my meeting and tears come. big ole hot wet sliding down my face can't stop them if i wanted to tears. not a good time to cry as it was my husband's birthday and i would be seeing my son and daughter-in-law who were supposed to be joining us for cake and coffee. prior to going into the house, i say a prayer as i am turning off my car that i can remain calm and happy for at least the next hour. one hour at a time, right?

i did well. nobody knew of my initial melt in the car on they way home, my son was solo since his bride isn't feeling well because she is in her first trimester, which is understandable because hey, i not only work at a center for childbirth, i have been pregnant myself and understand the different phases.

it went well, right up until the very end. my son and daughter-in-law have eluded to in the past that when the baby decides it's time to arrive, that only "her mother and the staff" are allowed in the room. bear in mind: i am an OB technician - i have been present for probably 100 births both in the labor room and as a OR tech for c-sections. i have actually had patients request me. i have a calming influence and am really unobtrusive. i am professional and take great care of my patients.

last night, he confirmed it: they don't want me in the room when the baby comes.

thinking about my post from yesterday about getting over hurts, this was a tough pill to swallow. also bearing in mind my mini-melt in the car on the way home, this was adding up to a really shitty stomach ache and heart ache at the same time. with all the composure i could muster, i told my son i felt as though i was being shut out, that i couldn't believe they didn't want me there, and just said, "okay. whatever you want."

when he left, he was upset and i had a full-blown melt-down. i tried so hard to keep it in, but it came. i cried and cried and talked about it with my husband and then cried some more. i finally dried my eyes, picked up my knitting and watched Criminal Minds.

i sat and thought about what had just happened, and God reminded me of one of the phrases we have used (among staff) when it comes to crowd control during labor: "If you weren't there for the conception, you don't belong there for the delivery." if both mothers were not allowed in the room, i think i would be "fine" with it. however, because her mother is a welcomed attendee and i am being told, flat out, that i am not -- well, pride goes before a melt down.

i composed a text message after i collected myself that said "whatever you want me to do. where ever you want me to be. i will abide and respect your wishes. i will be near when or if you need me. i love you and won't bring it up again." i sighed and hit "send." while i don't think i am wrong in feeling how i feel, i just want to keep the peace. and no, it is not easy to rise above as i explained to my kids in the car this morning; maintaining peace within a relationship may be some of the hardest work you have to do.

moments later i received the "thank you mom, that means a lot. we will keep you posted about any updates. love you."

(is it any wonder why i don't feel *serene*? can anyone tell me if my entire recovery will be fraught with moments like these as a challenge to the newly-sober or if it does, actually, get easy?)

serenity feels so far away. achy is the here and now and i just keep thinking "pray, don't drink, go to meetings, call your sponsor, and read the Big Book." i am hoping that since i have been so faithful employing all of these into my daily life, that feeling serene will be coming to me sooner, rather than later.

new blog, first post

the title should explain a lot, and even if it doesn't at the outset, it will eventually.

i have been on anti-anxiety medications for many years now due to panic attacks and depression. i have tried on one other occasion to withdraw and it was difficult, but i did it. however, my panic attacks and depression returned with a vengeance so i restarted and actually went from 20mg Paxil per day to eventually 40mg.

this latest withdrawal has been from the 40mg and it has been ugly.

in an effort to direct mental health-type traffic over to one specific place, i have decided to forego posting about this on my martha, martha blog and am in the process of transferring all of the darkness over to here, to keep things separate.

thus, my first post. all the other posts that were actually published over at m2 are all wonky and out of sequence. just like my life -- if i can deal, so can you :)

those who have visited with me over at m2 will recognize some of these thoughts already, and if you are new to my neurosis, welcome. say hi in the combox and let me know you are here...i need all the help i can get.

peace,
penni

sound asleep

Sleeping on Couch
Peggy Molloy

~~~

from today's Old Testament reading at Mass, the most eloquent prophet Jeremiah:

Thus says the LORD:
This is what I commanded my people:
Listen to my voice;
then I will be your God and you shall be my people.
Walk in all the ways that I command you,
so that you may prosper.

They walked in the hardness of their evil hearts
and turned their backs, not their faces, to me.

Let's stop right there and deliberately take the sentence apart: "...turned their backs to me."

How do I feel when my children do that to me out of anger, or self-righteousness? Or when I have hurt my children or upset them to the degree that they won't even turn to me when I am speaking to them? How can it be that I expect God to "understand" exactly how upset I am with the way things are going right now when I won't even look at Him?

I think I am in the throes of a depression because all I really want to do is sleep; I have little energy for anything else and while I would like to blame my underactive, lump-containing thyroid, I don't think that is what it is. I've never been in depression before -- goodness, I take 40mg/Paxil daily! My anxiety is under control, but there is something else at work in me. Do I give in to it and sleep or do I fight it, throw on my Chucks and walk in the way God is commanding me? Do I head straight for the Word of God and see what He suggests I do?

Today and yesterday, I have opted to sleep. How do you suppose that is working for me? One would think "wow, she must be well-rested," but honestly, I don't feel as though I have slept at all. I feel like instead of facing God, I am opting to roll over on the couch and turn away from Him, from whatever it is He wishes to impart. I've had so many people praying and for what? Weren't these nodules supposed to disappear because someone laid hands on me? Am I supposed to look at the *bright side* and say "at least they were caught 'in time'?" I am, to a degree. But in this situation, I am honestly not thanking God for any of it. In all things give thanks...a directive, but my back is turned so I can't really hear it.

What would happen if I "turned my face to Him" and stopped turning my back on Him? Could it really be that the Creator of the Universe, the One who knit me in my mother's womb and knows the hair count of my head wants me to turn my face to Him and look up? As if I were a flower, turning toward the sun, maybe His rays will bring me some sort of healing...and maybe that healing won't be instantaneous, but it would come.

I was told today by my trusted Pastor friend that I want to reach for anything that feels familiar right now because I am in pain. Instead of doing that which I desired most (read: delve into my addiction), I resorted to the familiarity of my snug sofa with a quilt wrapped around me and the phone unplugged...the cats cuddled right in with me. Just like a child who was trying to hide from her Parent, I was hiding under the covers and thinking He won't notice me and will turn His attention to something else, like ending poverty or the war or better yet, helping a scientist find the cure for AIDS.

Pastor also told me that it was time to stop running. He thinks I am being brought to the end of myself, the place where God has wanted me all along, and instead of resisting, I should surrender and "turn my back around."

Better yet, maybe I should look up from under my blanket because God is sitting at the foot the couch, waiting to talk to me.