In honor of Loralee’s recent defeat, I felt it was my duty to stick up for the women. Here’s the conversation that took place recently between Britt and myself:
Me: Man, I really miss my boobs.
Britt: Yeah, me too.
Me: They were so big and perky when I was breastfeeding.
Britt: Oh, I remember!
Me: How can they possibly be smaller now than they were before I started breastfeeding? Who would think that sucking on something would make it smaller?
Britt: I don’t know, but it does. If I would’ve known that this was going to happen I wouldn’t have let you breastfeed
Me: Well then, I guess I should probably no longer give you blow jobs, since that might make you smaller!
Britt: um, um, um.
And I think the men and women are now even.
And no, I’m not talking about the songs by TLC or Stone Temple Pilots. I’m talking about depression. It’s one of those tricky things that you never fully have a grasp on. Just when you trick yourself into believing that you’re getting better and this will all soon be behind you, it slowly creeps back in.
I had been doing pretty well with the Zoloft. I was feeling good, happy, never really getting pissy like I had been. For the last week or two it hasn’t been so rosey. I’ve started feeling that need to cry returning. So far I have been able to keep it muted, but it’s still there just lingering, waiting for the most inopportune time to strike. You know, like at the grocery store or when I’m picking up Emberly. I can’t quite grasp where the depression is coming from or how I can get rid of it. While upping my Zoloft dosage could hinder it, it won’t solve anything. The real kicker is knowing I feel this way and knowing that my life is pretty good. It seems like most of my friends are going through tough times right now (one’s newborn is only losing weight and they don’t know why, another just suffered her second miscarriage in just under 3 months, yet another found out her child had died in utero and was forced to induce labor at 20 weeks, and worse of all, someone who I’ve never met IRL, yet think about daily, has just surpassed the amount of time she had with her beautiful son here on earth, without him). None of this is fair or deserved and yet it remains true. With all of my praying, pleading, crying and anger, I can’t fix what is ailing them, I can’t make it all go away, I can’t take their pain and make it my own. I try. Every day I wish I could take their hurt away. I feel guilty that I have been blessed with such a happy, healthy, alive child. She means everything to me and she makes my life worth living. She also makes me feel completely unworthy. I am no better than anyone else, I don’t deserve happiness more than others. Ironically, here we are, stuck with me feeling so bad that I have these things that make me so happy. Doesn’t quite make sense, does it?
I want to make it clear that this isn’t a “woe is me” entry. I just want to put my feelings out there for all the internet world to see. I want people to know that my soul aches for them and that I am not taking my good fortunes for granted. I would gladly push through this depression with no Zoloft or blogging to help if it meant that my friends did not have to experience on minute of what they’re going through. And yet, I can’t. I can’t stop this depression, I can’t take their hurt away, I can’t do anything besides feel the depression creep back in.
Contrary to what you may all be thinking, I am alive and well. We just got back from visiting friends and family in Washington State. So, as soon as I get caught up with my work, I’ll be back with some posts. I promise. And yeah, that post I told you about earlier is still coming, however, I’m sure it won’t be as amazing as I’ve boasted it to be. Hang with me people. I don’t want to lose my huge following!