A little more real

I have to start out by telling you that this post is very hard to write. I told someone the other day that I like to view my blog as a personal journal and sometimes I forget how many people read it. That is, until some random person walks up to me in Target and starts talking about the blog. So, I hope you will all understand how difficult it was for me to write this post. And yet I hope it helps someone all the same.

I struggle with depression. I like to think it is all my Granny's fault who was bi-polar most of her life. I never knew my Granny before she was "sick" as we called it. She was usually very good about taking her medicine, but I always knew from an early age what bi-polar was and what caused it; therefore, I always try to remain very concious about my mental health because I also know it can be passed down.

In Jan. of 2006, my Granny passed away. On top of this, we had sold our house and were living in an apartment because we couldn't find a house we liked to buy and we didn't want to settle. Prior to this point in my life, the only time I had ever struggled with depression was post partum in October of 1998 right after I had Anna. The first part of 2006 proved to be too much for me, so I ended up crying in my doctor's office where he gently reminded me that I wasn't crazy...I just needed some meds to make sure the chemicals in my brain didn't stay completely whacked out. He started me on Paxil 25 CR. I felt great. Yes, I struggled with the fact that I was taking medicine and I certainly didn't shout it from the rooftops. I think I mainly felt guilty that I didn't rely on God enough to fix me.

So, here I am three years later. Many times I have thought about coming off the medicine, but somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered what that dark period of time was like, and honestly, I have felt so good I didn't really think about it that much.

A few months ago, I should have noticed that I was becoming a little more withdrawn. Sleeping a little too much during the day and not being able to sleep at night. Worrying about things that I certainly can't control. Although I am not weepy, I am certainly not motivated. I find myself scared to death as I realize that I don't think those "happy" pills are working for me anymore. What if I am really screwed up in the head? If you are reading this and thinking, "I had no idea"...well, don't feel bad. I am really good at covering up things and trust me, depression is not usually a topic of choice for me. So, I finally spoke up at the beginning of the week. I am seeing a doctor today and although I am scared to death, I know I have to do something. Laying in bed is not working and the guilt I feel over having no motivation is going to eat me alive if I continue down the path I am on.

I am putting this out there to show you that yes, I do struggle. I am struggling right now. Will you pray for me? Also to tell you that if I haven't returned a phone call, haven't answered the phone, etc. please don't take it personally, I just can't right now. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt myself or anything crazy like that, but I just feel weird talking about it and honestly, I have slept so much this week that there's a good chance that I was out when you called. I want to get better, I have faith that I will get better, but right now there are times where I feel like I am swimming with a 40 pound weight wrapped around my ankles.

Was this a depressing blog post or what?