Moving was a big fat mess with everything falling through multiple times. Thankfully one small business finally came through for us and we got the big stuff moved- but it wasn't cheap. The landlord at our apartment is fantastic, constantly asking what he can do and saying he wants us to be happy. We even have a small area where we can garden however the heck we want.
We're eligible for food stamps now (yet to be approved) and can actually afford our living situation now. Money will still be tight, but we won't be playing catch up all the time. My husband is within ten minutes of work and we are able to keep our four cats (our surrogate children). Granted, family relations are crappy and we're still going to need to file for bankruptcy due to my medical debt, but things are on the up and up, right? I should be singing praises to God and dancing in the streets like David!
Instead, Tuesday I woke up with suicidal thoughts. I put on Christian music, opened the drapes, started trying to unpack in my cute little kitchen. And they just got worse. It took me hours before I got up the nerve to call anyone. I felt like such a burden- all I could think about was how everyone I knew would be better off without me around. Ignorant, cruel comments from family members (not my hubby) kept shoving their way into my stream of consciousness.
Finally, I called my neurologist and got right through to the nurse. She confirmed that my relatively new medicine, amitriptyline, could indeed be causing these thoughts, even though I was on a low dose. I was told to stop taking it immediately and to hold off on starting the Cymbalta which I was due to start up. She told me to call a friend to stay with me, which I did. Praise God for non-judgmental friends!
The next night I stayed at home. Lo and behold, I woke up the next day feeling so sad and heavy. All I wanted to do was cry! This time there weren't actually any thoughts triggering my depression. It was as though there was this invisible shroud of heaviness over me. I had already planned to see my friend that afternoon again (is she the best person ever or what?) so I called to get in to the psychiatrist.
At the psychiatrist I didn't wear my combat gear and my anxiety level was through the roof, so once again thank God for my friend who spoke up for me. I felt like one of those automatic liquor shakers. Up and down and all around, jitter jitter jitter- don't fall on the floor!
The Doctor said that it was probably a combination of going off the Celexa and my crazy menopausal hormones that were wrecking havoc in my brain. He told me not to beat myself up and to think of it like a headache. When you have a headache you take meds and rest until you feel better, so do the same with this. I don't know how many times I've reminded myself of these statements since I saw him!
Naturally the guilt has been kicking me like crazy, I should be making the apartment a home for my amazing hubby, unpacking, helping my cats settle in, doing some writing to make a little money, getting the rest of things from our old house.... and on and on.
Of course there is this little voice in my head saying I am such a burden on my friend that is so generous. Telling her this, she's told me that she's happy to have a babysitter for her precious little one, and that it feels so good for her to be needed!
Needless to say, I am so very blessed. Even if I just have the consistent support of this one friend and my hubby, I know God is in control.
I'll leave you today with "Blessings" by Laura Story. If you've never heard this before, grab some tissues.
No comments:
Post a Comment