Friday, July 30, 2010
I'm a crazy person. At least, that's what I feel like some times. And it runs in my family.
No, not really crazy (and don't take offense if you are one of me), but just clinically depressed and filled with anxiety.
It's as if I don't have something to worry about in my head constantly, then I don't feel normal.
Luckily, there's a pill for that.
It's a bitter pill, one that I'll basically have to take the rest of my life, but I've slowly accepted that it's like any other disease, and just like diabetes or heart disease, that little pill is gonna make me better. But that little pill makes me gain weight, gives me the brain shivers when I miss it, and although I've tried to get off it multiple times, I just can't. So I guess that makes me an addict as well.
But it's a pill that my grandparents and family didn't always have, and they suffer from it as well, so I should be thankful for this little red capsule of happiness.
When I was pregnant, I took meds until my third trimester, then as soon as I gave birth, they put me back on them. I had some major post-partum depression until the stuff kicked back in. I couldn't imagine being left alone with my son, cringed at the thought of having to cut his fingernails, and panicked when I would think about taking him out of the house on my own.
I'm bitter and anxious and pretty much a lunatic when I'm not on them, so I take my crazy pills so I don't drive my family crazy too.
I've never talked about this on my blog, but today it just hit me as something to talk about. There's lots of discussion out there about anti-anxiety and depression medications, but I truly think they've saved me and I actually know quite a lot of people that are on something.
So, don't be ashamed if you need a happy pill to make it. A lot of us do.
My Name is Wendy and I'm a crazy person. And I'm ok with that.