“Hey! Mrs. Sluiter! Can I talk to you about something a minute?”
“Sure, Jasmin. What’s up?”
“Well, I was wondering…wait. You look really sad. Or tired. Is everything Ok?”
“Yeah, fine. Anyway…what can I do for you?”
Later that same day.
“Hey Mrs. Sluiter! So glad you are back today! Are you feeling better? That sub was a weirdo! Wait…you still look REALLY tired! Is everything ok?”
I don’t think my depression will ever go away.
This week I was sick. All the sleepless nights, the aches and pains, the chest congestion…all that crap that has been going on and building for a few months finally caught up with me.
So I went to the doctor.
She was legitimately worried which made me feel less like a freak was exactly how a great doctor should act when her patient comes to her with concerns.
Tests were ordered. thyroid, vitamin D levels, iron levels, blood clots, cholesterol, chest xrays for pneumonia.
I asked her if I could maybe ween off my Celexa this year. (remember?) She said yes, but that if I found I needed it, to not be ashamed and that if I wanted to get pregnant, they could always switch me to Zoloft.
Oh. You don’t think I can just not be on pills?
I went on my merry way through the rest of my day eventually ending up at my therapist for that appointment.
She and I discussed some of my recent anxiety stuff and agreed that it was good that my doc had prescribed some sleeping “helpers” for me.
When I got home, the phone rang. It was the doc herself. All my tests came back normal.
“You know,” she said, “I was thinking after you left that I bet a lot of your aches and fatigue and lack of focus is from your depression. If or when you ever decide to ween from your Celexa? It will probably get worse. I just want you to watch out for that, Ok? Keep me posted whether the Ambien helps any of this, Ok?”
Things have been wonderful at home.
Really. Despite the normal rough patches of parenthood, things have been good.
Eddie and I have been getting along so well.
He yelled, “momma!” at me tonight when I wasn’t paying attention to him closely enough and he ran to the door squealing, “da-ee!” when Cort got home from an errand.
His language is about to take off!
He runs and hugs me when I get home and he offers kisses and snuggles freely.
Our bond has never been this awesome.
So what the hell is this depression crap?
I don’t even think it’s just PPD anymore. I think it’s DEPRESSION.
I AM that mentos now.
I am tired all the time–I almost fall asleep on the way to work EVERY DAY.
I have lost interest in things that I used to love. I make plans that sound like fun and then as they approach I start to dread them
I can’t stay focused. Work is harder than it ever has been for me. And not because I am so much busier. I have had the busy before. I can’t stay focused on what I am doing. It’s not that I don’t WANT to quick grade quizzes while we are doing silent reading…I can’t focus long enough to do it like I used to.
I have constant pain. I sit more than I used to and I still get aches and pains I didn’t before.
How did this happen? Why…WHEN…did I go from PPD to full blown depression?
Our family doc says an event or experience can bring on depression. That a person’s brain can be chemically altered to not produce what it needs to in order to NOT be depressed.
Father in law dies of cancer
difficulty with staying pregnant/delivery
loss of spouse’s job
uncertainty of my own job
other deaths in the family
all in less than five years.
My personal relationships have suffered greatly.
I am afraid this is the new me.
Please tell me that the rough spots in my life haven’t permanently altered my ability to feel normal.
Please tell me that I won’t need drugs my whole life to feel like a “regular” person.
Please tell me that I…me…KATIE…is still in there somewhere.
Please tell me I can find that crazy, laughing, care-free lady again.
My biggest fear is that I will have to put Cortney and Eddie (and any future Sluiter kiddos) through this depression. That they will “deal” with me their whole life. That they will have to struggle along with me.
I so don’t want that.
This is what Cort married:
I want to be fun again.