I have post partum depression. I have always been fairly open about my struggles with depression – it is a part of who I am, and “just being happy” has never been an option for me. I do not think I have the worst life in the world, and even on my darkest days, I am capable of realizing that, but when my lil neurons won’t transmit seratonin properly, there is not a heck of a lot I can do.
I went off medication after I had my daughter. It was a choice I made, as the medication was making much of it worse. Currently, I am attempting to handle it all on my own, and am not failing, but also not succeeding.
There is a snake of anxiety that sits in my stomach, day after day, that kind of drives me. I rarely can fully control it, but I always know it is there. Driving down a hill yesterday caused it rear up and invent 100000 scenarios in which I was in a car accident and my lil bird got hurt. Every single day, I live with my brain constructing false outcomes, which makes optimism and perseverance hard.
I crave normality, but have no idea what it would even look like or feel like.
I am waiting for many of the other signs of my depression to come back – distorted body image, anxiety over food and weight, my temper, obsession.
My temper has had little flare ups, but never directed at anyone or anything, more annoyance with something.
So, I think after some things get settled in my life, I am going to go back on medication. Not that I cannot live without it, but so much of life is more manageable. I am no longer controlled by the snake of anxiety. I live easier in the present.
I just hate this cursed beast that haunts me. I can never take anything at face value, not even a sunny day. There is always something there, obscuring it.
On another note, I will be attempting to find a church in Havre. Which sounds like an insurmountable feat. I really enjoyed the service I went to in Billings. It would be good for the bird to have some community and fellowship in her life.