Not moving to NOLA, but definitely moving on

So, I have successfully survived my October breakdown. In hindsight, it wasn't really that bad. It never is. Just a few bad days. But during...it was horrible. There are times when the demands of single motherhood (without close family around) just push me from the positive to the negative side of my bi-polar disorder. It's generally a 98%/2% situation, but that 2% can be pretty heavy. I can't help but wonder what life would be like with my mother around. I mean, she was a early childhood education EXPERT. For reals.

I saw my therapist last week. I only see her about twice a year. I tend to call her when things get rough, but her schedule is so tight that I usually don't get in for two weeks. By then, I am pretty well through the rough patch and back on track. She said something interesting to me though...she said these twice-a-year bouts (is that spelled right?) of depression usually lead to a fairly transformative life experience for me. Interesting.

Holla to my friends and family once again. Man, I seriously don't know how I got so lucky. My dad, sis, and group of girlfriends immediately rally and help me get back on track. They offer to babysit, bring food, etc. Thank you, my amazing friends. I love you more than I could ever say.

One last thing...I ALMOST survived this election cycle without talking politics with anyone. I avoided regular TV and social media during this election cycle because it just gets me upset. I did end of having a rather civilized exchange with my conservative BFF. I think it's safe to say we're never going to think the same way politically, but we do on so many other levels. I love you, girl. You're wrong, but I love you. Haha.

YAY for Obama!

Much love!

Hey you, out there, I am thinking about you...

It's been a rough two weeks. When my kiddo gets sick, it becomes a two-week ordeal. She's sick for several days, then I am sick for several days, and then it takes several days to get back on schedule (this includes tantrums galore from her and total apathy from me). The worst part about it is feeling so alone in all of it. I have amazing friends and family, but the kind of help I need in these situations is beyond a two-hour reprieve. It's hard to explain. I know tons and tons of other single parents that can handle this flawlessly, but it knocks me down every time. So, I might move to NOLA...but that's a story for another day.

As I was/am wallowing in my despair, I was reminded of a good friend of mine who truly has it rough. I can't imagine how alone he feels at times. Those times when everyone is working on their own lives. Sometimes you need someone to reach out to you, but without there being a reason. Like, out of nowhere, you know? I'm thinking of you...and there is no "event" that is making me think of you. It's just a random afternoon at work and I am thinking of you. And loving you. And praying for you.

Whoa. How Timely.

I hate to criticize charities, but you have to wonder about a charity that eliminates funding for their very own cause. 

On My Depression...

"You are a high functioning manic depressive" - my therapist, two years ago.

Nailed it. Totally nailed it. How on earth did it take almost 20 freaking years to know this about myself? Crawling into a hole several times a year for three or four days...and it never occurred to me that I might suffer from depression. Instead I thought:

1. I was subconsciously sad about the deaths of my mother and brother (which of course is partly true).
2. I was lazy (because I stayed in bed).

Most people don't really know this about me. Well, that's not true. Since my divorce, I have actually been very vocal about it with friends and family. And, I am pretty sure my dad, sister, Dan, and Seja probably knew in their own ways all along (it's hard to cover these things up when you live with someone). But before that, people in my life probably had no clue. I've received the following comment a zillion times: "You are always happy." The comment never bothered me; it actually made me quite proud. But being happy all of the time is not something to be proud of. In most cases, it probably means you are ignoring or suppressing the sad-mad-angry-etc side of you. That side is so important.

I began seeing a therapist six years ago when I left my career working with kids. I was distraught; I absolutely loved my work. I remember at my first session, my therapist asked me to tell her why I was there and then to give her a little background about myself (family, hobbies, etc). I didn't mention family (except for my husband), which she caught on to. She inquired and I said, "I am very close with my sister and father. My brother and mother both died when I was a teenager. But, that's NOT what I am here for." And it truly wasn't. She respected that and never brought it up again. She let me open that door when I was ready (which I did).

The pivotal point in my depression discovery was when I got pregnant. I was in utter despair. I can't explain why; I didn't know why. It was bad. My OB/GYN said that this is quite normal and she recommended a mild antidepressant. It helped. A lot. But... I truly thought it was a pregnancy thing.

Fast forward four months later (May 21 to be exact- all the bad things that have happened in my life have occurred on the 21st), I found out my husband/best friend/soulmate was gay. Whoooooooossshhhhh. That's the sound of my downward spiral. It was harder than anything in my life, but this time I was proactive- crying, therapy, medication, doctor, leaning on family and eventually friends, etc. In August, I had my darling baby girl and they doubled my medication without discussion to prevent postpartum depression / a total breakdown. My doctor told me to stay on it for 6 months and then we'd talk about waning. Before I could reach that six months though, I hit another bottom...further down.

An important side note during this part of the timeline: I was/am an avid reader of dooce.com, a blog written by the articulate, funny, honest Heather Armstrong. You've probably heard of it, as it is world famous. But if not, check it out. Anyway, I recalled reading her posts about depression. I went back and read all of them. I won't go into her whole story, but she basically gave me three things: the ability to recognize I suffer from depression, the knowledge/advice to get and use help because it exists, and you are no less of person for suffering from depression. 

Back on track... They added another anti-depressant to my current one and I felt better almost immediately. It was probably partly because of the medicine, but I think it was mostly because that was the first time that I admitted to myself that I suffered from depression, that it wasn't going to go away, and that I needed help...forever.

I went to see my therapist and I remember saying, "I think I suffer from depression." She smiled and said, "you are a highly functioning manic depressive." And I smiled and said, "you're right." I instantly felt lighter.

I still have episodes, but they are fewer and less intense. I am still on the same medications and will probably never go off of them. I continue to see my therapist, but really only on a "as-needed" basis.

Ok, so I write this post for these reasons:

1. To remind myself that I will get through it
2. To document my experience for my daughter
3. To thank the people who "saved" me: my dad, my biological sister, my OB/GYN, my therapist, my boss, my crew of sisters (they know who they are), an old high school friend, Heather Armstrong, my ex-husband, my daughter, my boyfriend (wow- how lucky am I??)

That's pretty much it. I only have a handful of readers, all of whom probably know this stuff about me.

So, there it is... the depression post that I've been meaning / wanting to write for a long time.

Stay tuned for the upcoming, uplifting (ha!) "divorce post" and "my thoughts on suicide" post.

Love to all.

ps I shed many tears writing this. Happy ones.