Already over
Hoping

It all may be okay.

The truth is that I don't think I ever quite emerged from the dark when Eva died. Not completely. The pain receded eventually, but that's not the same thing.

And then this summer. I suppose I could go back and parse it out - this stressor on top of that one. Facing the boys' biological father for the first time in twelve years, Tre graduating. Everyone being sick for so long. Carmi dying. Tre leaving. Sophia starting Kindergarten. I'm having some health problems. Does it matter why? Somewhere along the line I went from grimly trudging along, to finding myself at the bottom of the ocean. The weight of all the water in the world on top of me, no light, no air. 

During the day I was limp with exhaustion. All I wanted was to crawl into bed. During the night I lay in bed and stared at the darkness. Sleep was a bewildering puzzle, and there was no escape. 

I am, by nature, a busy person. Lots to do, many details to see to. But all that busyness dwindled, just slowed and faltered and stopped. It's not just this blog I've neglected, it's everything. 

And everyone.

About a month ago I was at a doctor's office, trying to figure out some of the aforementioned health issues, and mentioned that I was fatigued. Just. so. tired. She looked up at me from her note pad.

"Every day?" I nodded. She paused and made very deliberate eye contact. "Do you cry often?"

And dammit. Tears pooled. 

Do I cry often? Whenever I'm alone. Or confronted about anything by anyone. When I'm in the shower. In the car. When Clay falls asleep and I'm awake, listening to the nightime noises of the house. I cry as often as I fail people, so. Yes. 

She recommended antidepressants, which I know. A shocker, right? I said no at first. I insisted they don't work well for me. I cried about it.

A few weeks ago I went out to lunch with a friend. We talked and talked and shoved awkward bites of salad in our mouths (that part was mostly me). At one point she put down her fork and looked at me and said evenly, "So. How are you? Really?"

The tears. Again. I told her, mostly truly, how I was. Then I heard my own voice say, "I'm thinking about going on antidepressants." Because it turned out that I was.

Eventually, I even made an appointment to get the damn pills. 

I just started them last week. I know it's supposed to take weeks for them to work, really. But shortly after my second dose, I was attending Mass. I always cry at Mass. I started to do what I do, which is to review everything to figure out where I went wrong. And when I say everything, I do mean EVERYTHING, the entire history of salvation. This, as you can imagine, takes a while, because that particular story is one of lovely and unmerited grace, and it's not easy to turn that into a tale of how this one person really sucks.

Not saying it can't be done, just saying it's tricky.

As I started on my own personal anti-litany, a thought pierced everything. All of it.

"What if it's all going to be okay?"

That may not sound profound, but if you'd been in my head recently, you'd know that it is. It's light and air and space, and it's wonderful. It just might all be okay.

I don't want to oversimplify things here. This not a happily-ever-after post. I am wobbly. I'm becoming aware of just how much I have let slide. Some of it I can fix, some of it I can't. I'm trying to make one difficult phone call or email a day. I've managed one so far. 

But hey, for today, there is air. And light. And space.

And it all may very well be okay.

Comments

Sheryl

Man, I'm so sorry. I have been there and it is dark and hopeless. I'm glad things are starting to turn around. You've been on my mind. XO

Tonya

Just hang on. No expectations about how you "should" be feeling. Just keep trudging on.

cheryl

I'm glad you're getting some relief. I've never really understood the anti-anti-depression meds stuff myself. I mean, if I had diabetes and the doctor told me that I needed insulin, I wouldn't think twice about it. I would pick it up on the way home. I don't think needing insulin makes a person weak, just like needing depression meds doesn't make a person weak. It is just a medical condition that fortunately can be helped with a simple little pill. I'm glad you're starting to see the light again.

Salome Ellen

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." -- Julian of Norwich

My favorite modern translation renders it "It will be all right, it will be all right, everything is going to be all right." Praying this for you...

Amy-Go

Praying. Hard. You are not alone.

Trinalambert.wordpress.com

Praying for you--some seasons just seem more full of loss than others. May you feel grace and mercy and light--and hope!

cindy page

Kira, there IS hope! There is. And I am so proud of you for taking the hard step of meds. It was a difficult thing for me to do - acknowledge that I couldn't pull myself out of it, pray myself out of it or ignore it. Chemicals are chemicals - whether it be insulin or seritonin. God provided this "pill" to help us. Take it and thank Him for that blessing! You will feel better and better - the sun will even shine brighter! God bless you, my friend!

Angela

Three brave and positive steps: opening up to the doctor, taking the medication, and talking about it to friends in real life and online! You are on the right path and I hope it gets easier and easier from here.

victoria

could you tell me please what you are taking? i've tried wellbutrin and zoloft. and doxepin. they made it worse if anything. thank you.

Peggy Fry

If you broke your ankle, you'd get a cast on it, wouldn't you? If your chemical well-being gets all wonky, there is NOTHING wrong with taking something to help straighten it all out. You may not need it for long. You may need it forever. and if you do, so what? I know for a fact that it has saved my life, and that I am quite prone to depression. Look at the most recent example of what happens to someone beloved and rich - Robin Williams. Even he couldn't fight it off alone. So try it, talk, and let that little voice of grace speak to you where you are right now. It gets better, and will help you keep putting one foot in front of the other. God gave you a tender heart that has been swamped by sadness. So you ask for help and you get it, and soon there is a little bit of light there, just for you. Then maybe more. Take care, dear friend whom I've never met.

Rosemary

We're praying with you. Take care kira

Lisa

Having tried and rejected many depression meds, I know that you have to keep trying until you find the right one for you. If you are experiencing any unpleasant side effects, be sure to tell your doctor so you can try another, or at least a different dosage. The right one is out there, waiting to help you feel like you again.

Heather

Things will look up, you just have to keep taking the medicine or change a few times to find the best one for you. I have been on 50mg of Zoloft for a little over a year now & it was the best decision I ever made.

liz

Hugs. Wishing you strength until you see the colors and sun again.

Also, a morning wake-up song for you:

http://youtu.be/7Sw9Fh6uk4Q

Bethany  West

I'm one week into my own prescription of Pristiq, which worked wonders for me during my last bout of PPD. I just had a baby, and I 'm supposed to be exhausted, but it's accompanied by this hopeless despair that it will be like this for a long time.
I know exactly what you mean. I hope your medicine works. Try looking into counseling, too. The right counselor can make all the difference.

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