Returning From Despair
Wednesday, November 23, 2022

Friends and family, I've gotta tell y'all something. For the last several months, I've been feeling really down. It may have started as postpartum depression from when Felix was born and mutated into something much worse. It may have been the horrible series of events that have taken place in my personal life, and the rollercoaster that has been my marriage. It may be a midlife crisis from realizing I'm in my 40s and have done nothing with my life that I wanted to do for myself.


Regardless, I've been so down recently I thought I'd be better off dead. I didn't think anyone cared, that I wasn't worth the space in the universe to exist anymore. I was so anxious and angry all the time that I thought my family would be better without me, and no one else would notice my absence. I wasn't suicidal, but I definitely wanted to die. I didn't think I could take life anymore. At all. It was a major daily struggle. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't think anyone would listen, or that my emotions would be too much for anyone else to handle. I tried talking to a therapist for a while and she often said to me "I don't think there's anything I can do for you." I hit rock bottom.,

Then I finally hit my breaking point. Nothing in particular happened, I just knew I couldn't function anymore. So I started seeing a different therapist and reluctantly agreed to try meds. In the past I've tried several different meds, and everything always made me feel worse, so I was extremely skeptical.


Right now I'm 3 weeks into therapy with the new therapist, and 5 days into medication treatment, and I already feel better than I have for years. The meds aren't even supposed to be fully effective for 2+ weeks, so I know I'll just continue to feel better. They are meant to help with chronic/nerve pain and anxiety. My pain isn't remotely gone, but with the other treatments I receive in addition to this, it seems more manageable (mind over matter?)


When we first moved into our house I immediately believed it was too much for me, too much cleaning. I sat here and watched the filth gather little by little, knowing my body pain and depression weren't going to let me do anything about it. Today, I started cleaning. Little by little. One small area at a time.


I'm feeling so much better. I can't wait to clear the rest of this fog that's been surrounding my view on life. To be the woman I was meant to be. A better mom. A better friend. A better me.