Mental Health

So for the past month or so I have been slipping in my special brand of depression, marked by high, irrational anxiety, mostly focused on my (and all other) children. I knew that this had gone beyond something that I can manage on my own (although diet and exercise really does help), and figured I'd ask my therapist if he thought it was time to consider medication. Before I even mentioned it myself he was on top of things. I started back (after Max was born I had some rough post partum issues) on Lexapro, with a little prescription for Atavin because I haven't been sleeping. I muddled through the process of going to a therapist who sent me to my GP, who told me I really had to go to a psychiatrist to get a prescription. I ran through every flaming hoop Aetna presented, and thanks to the sympathy of my GP I didn't have to wait to see a psychiatrist. 

I've been considering writing about this for a few days, mostly because of my own sense of shame and embarrassment at having a "mental" problem. I would never try to "tough out" an ear infection, or ignore a bronchial cough for weeks. Everyone gets the blues now and then, especially during the holidays. So how do you know when the blues are getting scary, or how deep is deep enough to ask for help? I don't know any of the answers for anyone else. For me, it was when I couldn't eat or sleep, and every song, advertisement, television show and conversation made me cry. When I found myself sitting in a chair staring at the floor for way too long, and when trying to explain that I was feeling "a little down" unleashed a flood of tears. 

The doctor (not the therapist) asked if I'd suffered a loss, and I found myself feeling foolish for being so sad and down without a trauma to give me reason to. How ridiculous! Can you imagine feeling foolish about having a physical illness when you're unable to pinpoint where exactly you caught the virus? 

My mom and my husband have been incredibly sweet. Mom coerced me out for a run yesterday, which was slow and arduous, but reminded me that there's life to be lived. I couldn't get myself up for one today, but I hope that tomorrow I do. Leo has been baking some amazing fruit/nut cookies to entice me to eat them. They smell wonderful, and seeing the plates piled with these gorgeous cookies is a really strong reminder of how loved I am. 

So the medication issue. I know people on both sides of this issue; those that don't want to alter their personalities, and believe that they can manage their mental health holistically, as well as those who give over right away and believe that if there's something out there to help them they'll do it. I completely understand the desire to beat it without medication, and admire people that can. A friend of mine has been able to manage her depression through yoga, breathing, and other holistic roads. She also lives alone, has no children, and is a yoga teacher, so I feel like there's a little less stress on her to be "immediately" better. So to each their own. 

I think what I'd really like is to be able to understand this side of me a bit better, and I fear that medication is going to just shut it down. But I also know that I need help, and don't have the 'luxury' to really experience and investigate my depression. I want to see the mood, shake hands with it, and reach some kind of understanding so we can both exist. This time though, right now, I need this life raft. 

I hope that you all are feeling healthy this New Year, and if you aren't you will ask for help. If you want an ear, I'm a really good one right now.