Life Comes at You Fast...

It's been awhile since I made a post...and in that time, a lot of things have happened...


All I can say is, sometimes your strength is tested not by circumstances/situations that are thrown at you, but by how you react to them.


So...where to begin...


Life took an unexpected turn for me about two weeks ago...Baby Jr. decided to come to be...and to my surprise, I wasn't that excited; I was in complete & utter shock -->




My husband is extremely excited...and he should be; he's going to be a great dad

...me on the other hand...not so sure *shrug*

Between hearing the big news, and some 'family drama'...I have not been the happiest Tina that I could possibly be. I decided to get some professional help.

 I saw a psychiatrist last week, for a few reasons:

1. Anti-depressants can have very adverse reactions on a baby
2. I got pregnant a long time ago, and did not keep it; however, I still went though a  bad bout of depression, which included a suicide attempt...needless to say, I didn't want to go through that again
3. It was (and still is) disturbing to me that I am not the least bit excited...at all; and I wanted some type of insight about my feelings *or lack thereof*


So I headed to the doctor...it was an hour of gut-spilling about my life...I didn't like it; I've always felt like there are people in this world that are going through far worse than me...and I should be able to "suck it up", and go on with my life...In an ideal world, that would be great to be able to do, but unfortunately, it's no that simple...so I stayed..and talked...and talked...until I couldn't talk anymore


Because of my history, the doctor felt it was in my best interest to stay on the meds for a little while longer, until I could get a hold of how I was feeling. He also said that my ambivalence towards my pregnancy is also an affect from my depression...not finding pleasure in things that normally would make people excited and happy...I honestly think it's more than that...but that's for another post.

The bottom line is, depression is something that is a struggle to deal with anyway, but being depressed and pregnant...well, I'm scared shitless right now...the last thing I want is to do anything that'll harm Baby Jr., or myself...this has haunted me everyday since I found out I was pregnant :(

For now, I'm just going to take it for what it is, and keep my health & strength *both mentally & physically* up...because someone's life is on the line now...and that's something I don't want to mess with.

-Tina

1 Step Forward...10 Steps Back

Your doctor, in theory, should be your bff...mostly because they know all your intimate details: how/why you tick...what makes you...you...

They also seem to be the ones that SCREW YOU OVER THE MOST TOO!!!

As you can see, I'm not a very happy Tina...I went to the doctor for a follow-up a few weeks ago, and was told I would be getting a refill on my medication (I call it 'happy pills'). I still had about 2.5 weeks left of pills, so I had to wait until I was closer to being out to pick it up (they worry about addiction & overdosing & whatnot)

Sooooo...I go to CVS yesterday, and they never filled it...and it's a holiday weekend...and they're closed...so I'll probably have to wait until Tuesday to get it filled...

As someone who has already gone through withdrawal once before, I wasn't looking forward to the next few days...and you may say that a few days wouldn't cause a big impact, but I've already had about 2 dizzy spells, and a few "cloudy" moments :(

Tomorrow, I may just try to call and tell them that it's an emergency...because feeling like this is not life threatening; but it is highly annoying

-Tina *smh*

Parents Just Don't Understand

So...this song just kept popping up in my head for some reason when I was asked how my parents felt about my depression. 

When I told them about it, I got different responses...in order to understand this better, you may need the background info 1st:

1. If you don't know, I was adopted by my uncle when I was 10yrs old. I am 1 of 6 (4 brothers and a sister)
2. Both of my parents were on drugs...my first recollection of my birth mother was in a rehab facility
3. I never met my brith father...as far as I'm concerned, my uncle was, has been, and always will be, my "daddy"

So that's pretty much that. My father was married twice...his first wife hated my sister and me...she frequently called us "crack babies", and said that we would probably end up like our crack head mother...not a great thing to hear at like 4 or 5 

Anyway, he remarried, and she was nice...for awhile...when I say awhile, I probably mean a few weeks...eventually, the abuse started...

It was everything from all types of verbal assaults (ugly, stupid, hoe, bitch, etc.), to physical (beatings with all sorts of things), to the real low blows: "you can go back to your mother in the bronx...it's not like I'm burning you with cigarettes or something"...

So...flash forward to about a yr and half ago, and I called each of them to tell them about my diagnosis. 

Pops: It's all her fault!!! She made you crazy!!! 

Her: Um...I don't get it...who made you feel depressed? 

Me: 

In the mist of all the blame, I've come to realize a few things:

1. While depression is a result of a chemical imbalance that depletes my "happy genes", there are some circumstances that have made it a lot worse. 
2. My dad, while I love him, probably didn't recognize my symptoms at a young age for what they were...most parents probably wouldn't have, and I don't blame him for it. 
3. Now that I'm older, and I don't live with my parents, I have a better handle on things that make me nervous, anxious, or depressed, and I have my husband to be my shoulder when the weight is heavy. 
4. Unfortunately, in order to start my healing and recovery, I had to let a lot of people go...my stepmother being one of them. 

Overall, I think my parents reaction towards it was...I don't have a word to describe it...but, parents don't really understand much of anything to me, even at 25. I just hope that once I have kids, that I'm more aware and attune to them...so if they are in pain, I can help, because that's what parents are supposed to do. 

-Tina

Slow Progress...Always Better Than No Progress

Some people think that just by taking their meds (or "happy pills" as I like to call them), that everything will start to become better overnight...

DEFINITELY NOT THE CASE!!!

While I will admit that after going back on meds after a horrible three months of withdrawal, I definitely feel a lot better: I'm sleeping better; I'm eating more normally; I don't feel like punching a hole in the wall...it's a great feeling!!!


But I do have my "moments". Sometimes I cry...sometimes I feel..."blah"...sometimes I want to be left alone, other days I don't want to be by myself. But I think the thing that seems to have the largest impact, is the anxiety.

In addition to depression, I also suffer from anxiety disorder. My medicine helps both. Other than my closest friends and my Husband, no one really understands the depth of its impact, the biggest being that although I've had my license since I was 19 (so about 6yrs), the thought of getting behind the wheel makes me queasy...I never told anybody though, so a lot of times it seemed as though my husband was just a limo driver, but in reality, I couldn't get up the courage to get behind the wheel. :-(

But today, was a good day: I actually drove my car to the grocery store up the street from my apartment....granted, the music was off, and I was being coached by my best friend the whole time, but nonetheless, I made it to the store and back without hyperventilating!!!

I am really hoping that I can start practicing...little by little, I can drive further and further; my goal is to get a 2nd car so I can go places by myself without fear of...anything really. That may be a while down the road, but I know it is achievable. For now though, I'm just going to take it one day at a time. :-)




-Tina

A Wake Up Call

I HATE going to the doctor.

I guess no one really enjoys being poked in the arm with a needle, and being told that "you have to exercise", but I REALLY REALLY HATE going to the doctor.

That doesn't make it less important...especially this time.

Now that I'm married, I have to be cognizant of the fact that my health affects my husband's well being too. So, when I saw the look on his face as I told the doctor that I frequently cry for no reason, followed by periods of rage at everyone, followed by loss of appetite, and little to no sleep, I realized how selfish I was being by NOT addressing these issues. The doctor, being the kind soul she is, prescribed some meds that are supposed to help me with depression and anxiety, conditions that I believe I have suffered from for a long time...

This doesn't seem bad right? A lot of people suffer from depression...but they don't talk about it...and if they do, they are ostracized because, "only celebrities have those issues...they just want to pop pills". I can assure you that this is not the case with me. I don't like how I feel...and I want to be better, not only for my sake, but for the sake of my family.

So, when I decided to start blogging...it took me a long time to figure out what to write about...and I realized that this is probably something that I will face the rest of my life; perhaps my struggle, success, and triumph, and occasional slip can help other young people that are struggling with this disease...and it is a disease; one that can be treated with medicine, prayer, and a good support system (not to mention a good sense of humor).

So...here it is...the first of a documentary on my battle with depression...feel free to comment, laugh, cry, whatever you want...but I figure if one person...just 1 person gets something out of this (even a slight grin), then it'll be worth the typing and looking for kool links and pictures and whatnot :-)

-Tina J.