I just happened upon another mom's blog, albeit a much more glamorous mom than me. But I realized that her description, or the one she endorses anyway, of depression fits me. Then again, so do the symptoms of chronic anxiety, and the ones for Adult ADD. I know I have something; my moods don't fit my thoughts.
My father died three years ago, after declaring himself cured of colon cancer. As I look back on it, my belief in that statement was incredibly naive. Even if the cancer had been confined to one area, and that had been removed, any doctor would have followed up with a hearty dose of radiation, just to be sure. But he was my father, so I believed him when he said he was getting better. Until I got the call late one morning that he had died the previous evening. No chance to say "goodbye" or "I love you" or any of the things you think you'll be able to tell your father when he dies. To make it worse, he had made all of his own funeral arrangements, which is to say none. By the time I was even told of his death he was already cremated and safely stored in a plastic box on my uncle's passenger seat. I got depressed. I had seen many a psychiatrist's office in my young life, but this time was different. I found a therapist I liked, not just one I felt was (or wasn't) capable. I was put on a mood stabilizer and all was going so well. Until within one month my therapist took a job elsewhere and I lost my job, along with my health insurance. I tapered off the meds and tried to "suck it up".
Now, however, I find it more and more difficult to suck it up. I have no patience, no attention span, and am constantly irritable and/or irritated. It's like that part of PMS where nothing goes right and you just want to scream and cry at the same time, and god help anyone who has the nerve to ask what's wrong. Except that for me, it's every day. And Tom doesn't understand. Apparently I've become so talented at sucking it up that he hasn't seen anything amiss. Well, that and the fact that he's never home. Also, I guess his ex girlfriends were all pretty bitchy, so he thinks it's just normal female behavior. Either way, it's hard to justify the expense of medical treatment and prescriptions to a man who doesn't see a problem. But I see it, I have to live it. And I don't really think it's depression because I like my life. I like myself. I just don't like my moods. I have 100 things I want to do but I can't decide which to do first, and I get bored with them once I start anyway.
I have called three clinics looking for an appointment with a doctor and finally got one to be screened for ADD. Unfortunately it's with the same doctor who refused to prescribe anything for me last time. He seems to feel I'm a little out of his league. I hope I get some help at least figuring out what's wrong with me. It has to be chemical; it's sure not situational. I'll write more when I find out what happens.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
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