Ups and Downs

I hope your Holidays have gone well. We are two weeks into a three week Christmas vacation for the husband, and one week into a two week break for the kids. It’s been good and bad. I love having my family around, as Christmas is the big holiday in our family, but we live in a pretty small space if you consider we are all here all the time and often it’s too cold to go out.
My headaches have gotten worse. My symptoms are increasing, the severity and longevity is too. New ones too. Sometimes I wonder if I have some kind of psychological issue-but then I remember I’m a different kind is crazy.
I’m evening out a bit with an up in my anti depressants, and feel capable of not having a full out panic attack when I have my MRI on Tuesday. I can’t promise I won’t. But I’m hopeful.
It was our wedding anniversary the other day. My typically romantically-clueless hubby remembered and put on our wedding song as we danced with our kids in the living room. I was SO happy. I have become blaringly aware that life is short and we don’t know when our time is up and to appreciate everything. These moments are rare as special and they remind me of why I want to be better. So I can have less bad stuff and more awesomeness.

One Giant Leap

I left this update from my last post for a few days, sort of deciding how-or if-I was to make this public. My FB page is a fun place-so not there. Twitter is for my cynic, sarcastic moments, and honestly it’s not any big thing for me anyway. But here, here is where I come to vent, process, and heal.
So here we go.
I went to my doctor-he is on sabbatical, getting his masters in education. I’m sure this marks his 42nd degree and I doubt he is more than 40. I’m very very happy for him and reassured that I’m a luckily girl as he has cared for me and my kids well. But that means I got a new doctor. Dr S. She is good. But she is also my age and a rather obvious reminder of my state of mind and its need for an adjustment. Briefly while talking to her I felt like maybe I had not accomplished as much because I hadn’t been to med school. I am a server and bartender and as the cold air comes my days of even being employed are numbered. She did nothing but validate me, what I was saying, and express her joy over my two children. A new mother herself, SHE congratulated ME. Isn’t that something?? I am so upside down that I am forgetting just how very damn lucky I am. And just how much I’ve accomplished. It’s been a whirlwind the last ten years, and when you think about it objectively I suppose it can be said that I’ve done a lot. Or gone through a lot. War, death, life, births, love, and the in betweens. But I don’t like to think about it, and I doubt I made any real impact on anything outside of my home-but that’s not to say my impact here in my home hasn’t been substantial.
I don’t know if that makes sense.
Anyway. It took me four days to work up the courage to go to the pharmacy and fill my prescription and this morning I started on an anti-depressant. I am ashamed. I feel, however incorrectly, like I failed somehow. The stigma of mental illness is alive and well and it’s maddening. I have held hands of people battling this, and donated, supported, and made sure I was informed. I am an advocate!! But I can’t do it all on my own, and because of pride, and stubbornness, and some serious delusions about women doing it all and doing it well and not needing anyone, I hate myself a bit. For being a hypocrite. For not holding myself up as important enough to deserve support and deserve happiness, but that others do. What example does that set for my daughter?? That she should help everyone and disregard herself? And my son, that he shouldn’t have to scoop up his girlfriend or wife and make her remember she is as important as anyone else?
We women, as feminist as we can be, may be setting the movement back a bit, mixing messages. Being independent and having parity in the workplace and having equal rights is what we want, but somehow I think maybe the message got mixed up and we feel we need to do it all and be it all in order to deserve the level playing field. Which is ridiculous. Because I know many a middle aged man having crisis after crisis because he can’t manage his own life and is walking around like a HOT MESS. Thankyouverymuch.
This self inflicted pressure we put on ourselves-to be thin instead of fit, well balanced instead of being everything to everyone and only giving 10% to anyone, to be smiling, even if you want to cry, must stop. Taking a pill shouldn’t be a reflection of what one CANT DO. It should be, and is-if you look objectively-a reflection of someone treating themselves with the same respect we would expect, and it’s about damn time the world understood and took note. I am a good mother, I work hard to do well in my job and my life and I will be better through my actions and through my choice to ask for help, and no pill changes my value or yours. Or the person down the street or at the market. I am right here. I won’t fall down and lay there and die, and having depression doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be ok.
I might be crazier than a road lizard, but my big step for me, could be a giant leap for someone afraid to get help.
Just sayin.