Remember those days?

Well those days for me are depression. I’ve been battling depression on and off since I was in 8th grade. It’s a brutal thing. It truly is.

My counselor and my doctor both think I suffer from clinical depression. Depression that has no reasoning. I hate it.

When I was in 8th grade I tried to commit suicide. I don’t think it was an actual means to end my life but more of a call for help. I honestly don’t remember the details, it all happened so fast. I took a bunch of Tylenol with Codeine and later ended up in the ER having my stomach pumped. My mom and dad didn’t handle it well. But I wasn’t handling everything well. I did see a counselor for a while. And for a while life was good.

Then all of this happened. As I’ve said before, promiscuity was my answer. It was easier for me to give myself away than it was to have it taken from me. Luckily, I had a great friend at the time and a wonderful guidance counselor.

Since then, my depression comes and goes. When I started college I had to see a therapist because I freaked out when I was around a bunch of boys/men that I didn’t know.

I went to Germany and life was grand. I moved back to the states and everything bottomed out again. Luckily, I met HH. He will tell you that when he met me I was depressed. When he went to Colorado , I stayed in bed for days and only got out for classes and to eat. After I joined HH in Colorado the depression persisted. It almost tore me and HH apart. Luckily, he realized that I was not my “normal” self and stayed by me.

I didn’t have postpartum depression after Daelyn was born which was a miracle. But it hit me like a freight train with the man. I did well the first day I was home alone with both kids. The second day I became a sobbing, lifeless mess. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t want to hurt anyone; I just didn’t want to be where I was. It was all I could do to muster the energy to feed the tots. The man was born the 16th of December. My PPD was so bad that HH flew me and the tots back to Illinois on New Year’s Day to be with my mom so I could get the help I needed. With counseling, antidepressants and the support of my family I got through it all. It just took a while and everything was a deep, dark hole in the process. And I hate absolutely hate that time period because I don't remember alot of the man's first few months. Things were that bad.

And now the last few months have been a myriad of feelings and things I can’t even describe. I knew I was in a funk so I started seeing my counselor again. And then the day before my daughter’s birthday I laid on the couch and could barely get up. I had plans to wrap her presents and fill out her card. I couldn’t function. I wanted to get up but I didn't have the ability. I laid and cried. Bawled was more the word. It was terrifying. And it was my low point. But, I saw my medical doctor and I’m back on antidepressants. And finally 2 weeks later I felt good. I felt normal. I didn’t feel out of place or hopeless. Life had meaning. I enjoyed my tots.

And then my meds starting causing me issues. I got faint. I was burning up. I had diarrhea. I felt completely out of place. And to know that I was finally getting to my good spot really pissed me off. There was a light at the end of the tunnel but somehow I was backtracking instead of stepping forward. I'm weaning off medicine to start a new medicine in week or so. In the meantime I'm just hoping I'm not a deep, dark hole.

So. That's me. That's why I've been MIA for the last few weeks. I'm crazy.

But in my defense the loony bin will be a much grander time with me there.

And I do have to give huge KUDOS to HH. He has been a huge source of support and has rallied behind me time and time again. I love him. He's awesome. I don't deserve him but for some strange reason he loves me back. Through good times and crazy times.

And I will be posting some of the things I've written while I was "lost" in hopes that it will paint a clearer picture of what I go through.