Again?

First things first, since I know I've been HORRIBLE about updating... at 15.5 weeks, everything pregnancy related seems to be moving along swimmingly. Doc is happy, my stomach and appetite are getting there, and my jeans are not. I figure that's about all I can ask for that this point.


I seem to be struggling again. Be it seasonal, situational, or my own fucked-up-edness, the depression seems to have found me. It's incredibly frustrating to be here, in this place that I honestly didn't know that I'd ever get to, and be completely incapable of reveling in it. Hell, I struggle to just enjoy it from time to time.

Family is a mess, finances are ok but I'm not sure for how long, our neighborhood is going to hell and we are absolutely positively completely STUCK in it for at least another 13 months.

But, we're both healthy, Grumps is doing smashingly in school, the bills ARE still getting paid, I am still employed, and HOLY FUCK, I'm PREGNANT for God's sake!

Funk, funk, go away - and don't worry about coming back another day! Please?

Raising a Hand

and waving at all of you out there in blogland!

I'm still here, still bobbing along in my own little journey. Nothing too exciting or blog-worthy going on (or, at least not when a CERTAIN UNNAMED BLOGGING PROGRAM will actually allow me access to my account!), thus the ridiculous level of silence over here these days.

To be honest, I've been struggling a bit this last week, as the 7th was 1 year since Dad went in the hospital. I expect I'll have some rough moments over the next few months, dealing with what's left of the "firsts" without him. It's nothing that isn't a perfectly natural part of the grieving process (blah blah psych babble), but it is something I'm dealing with - and working through - these days.

I'd like to say there's something - anything - going on with the IF front, but there isn't. Things are on hold for now, until we get Grump's school/job situation, and our financial situation, at least somewhat under control. I do have to schedule myself another follow-up appointment with Dr. Voodoo, but it's not going to be for anything exciting. He'll ask about Clomid, I'll tell him not yet. He'll ask about the endo, and I'll thankfully be able to report very minimal symptoms. Honestly, I don't even really see a reason to go, other than Dr. Voodoo told me to, and I tend to unquestioningly want to do what he tells me to.

And on that note, it's bright and sunny outside, and I need to go soak some of it in!

Tricky

This depression stuff - I'm learning - is freaking TRICKY!

When I first started my meds (Zoloft, just a wee lil baby starter dose at that), I was feeling better. Surprisingly better. "WAHOOO!!! My prayers have been answered!" better.

That better turned to a contentedness, that lulled me into a (clearly) false sense of security. It seems as though I blinked, and that satisfied, content, normal version of me has vanished, replaced by the same old frustrated, cranky, anxiety-ridden, un-motivated me.

And it SUCKS.

I suppose this means that I need to get back to the GP, get my meds tweaked (or changed entirely), maybe even ask about some quick acting anti-anxiety meds, when I KNOW I'm going to do something that will cause the anxiety to sky-rocket.

Not that we have the money for such frivolous things as doctors appointments and medications right now. But - seriously - it has to be cheaper than divorce, right?

Role Reversal

Over the last few weeks, the Grumps and I have taken on a bit of a role reversal from last year. During the summer and fall, I was completely overwhelmed with the responsibility of managing my Dad's care. I had the support of my sisters, and fortunately we all seemed to agree on almost every decision that was tossed our way. And we were able to reasonably discuss those handful of things that we weren't on exactly the same page about, reaching a compromise that we all could be genuinely satisfied with.

I'm learning just how fortunate I am that we were all able to work together in this way, and that we're even more fortunate to be able to continue to build a sister relationship in the aftermath of losing Dad.

Sadly, it has become painfully obvious over the last few weeks that not all families work this way.

Grumpy's mom is ill - has been for a long loooooooooooooooooooong time. I'm not going to go into too many details here, at least not the specifics, as they aren't my details to share. Just believe me when I say that she's ill.

She's been hospitalized for almost 3 weeks now. In that time, she's had 2 separate extended ICU stays, a dialysis treatment, a surgery, 24 hours on a ventilator, countless medications, and we almost lost her more than once. She's on the long, slow road to recovery now, and we're realistically hoping that she'll be able to go home within the next week or 2.

On the flip side of her almost miraculous recovery (especially this week), is the damage that's been done to the immediate family. Lies have been told, wishes ignored, fights started, secrets kept and betrayed... All levels of human interpersonal ugliness have been explored and exploited. And here I sit, just to the outside of the immediate inside (does that makes sense? let me try this: I'm more involved on a daily basis than Grumpy's siblings because of proximity, but obviously I'm not her daughter, so I try not to take on too much responsibility, or step over the bounds of my "appropriate" role.), wondering what I can do to help, who I should support, and how to do it.

Obviously, my first responsibility is to Grumps. I'm the one that needs to keep things running on our homefront, so that he has a safe place to be without adding additional stress (he was FABULOUS with this for me during the Dad saga). I need to be his place to unload, get angry, be scared, whatever. That part I'm certain of.

But after Grumpy, who should be my priority? I work for his Dad, his Mom is ill and needs all the support she can get, his siblings aren't here in town and feel a bit out of the loop, when his niece or nephew are in town they sometimes need time away from the stress of Grandma being in the hospital. And to be honest, sometimes "choosing sides" isn't an option. Sometimes I'm so disgusted by someone's behavior that I can't stand to hear them, let alone be supportive. Sometimes someone is being so needy and dependent about the circumstances that I want to shake them to remind them that we're ALL going through this.

Sometimes I want to sit in a corner and cry, because Grumpy's Mom is going to come home, and my Dad didn't. And maybe that's what my problem is in all of this.

Maybe it's not my responsibility to be mediator, to take sides, to try to support everyone. Maybe it's ok to just be Grumpy's wife, and to do my best to make sure that HIS needs are met.

Is that ok?

The miracle med?

My appointment went well on Thursday. I had a nice chat with my GP, who quickly agreed that it was time to give some medication a try. One thing she said that really stuck with me...

No one would dare withhold insulin from a diabetic. I don't see why the same
doesn't hold true for Serotonin.

She wrote me a script for 50mg of Zoloft, with instructions to start the first few days at half a pill, just to ease myself into the medication.

I spoke with a friend Friday afternoon, who kindly asked about my appointment, and how I was feeling. I told her that I was certain it was either mind over matter or a placebo effect, but I actually felt significantly better on Friday, and again on Saturday. Unfortunately, Sunday I woke up to a killer sinus headache that stuck with me all day, and today I am sans headache, but back to "normal" emotionally (meaning my "not so fun" normal, not socially "acceptable" normal).''

I will say that taking the step to get help has lifted a weight. This is something that I've been considering for years, and haven't been able to move myself to do it. I don't yet know if this is the dosage or even the medication for me, but I do know that I've taken that first step down the path towards getting healthy. And I feel really good about that.