Friday, December 09, 2011
Leave Frankie alone in a room these days and you may not be able to find her when you get back.
She is quite proud of her ability to get into tight spaces. In this instance I actually couldn't find the child when I popped in from the kitchen to check on her. After looking around a few corners I called her name and she gurgled a response and popped her head out from under the chair where she was just chillin'. Life of the party this one. She makes my heart smile and smile and smile.
And while we are on the subject of smiling. I am doing a lot of that myself lately. I am sure you can tell from my recent blizzard of posts that something has changed. Well, I have been battling a rather severe period of depression mixed with a double dose of anxiety for about 2 months. Longer than that if I am truly honest but it takes me forever to realize I need some help. Forever. I have gotten the help I need. Drugs. Good drugs. Not lots of drugs but just the right amount for me it seems. The drugs I was on before didn't seem to be cutting it. I started this new prescription on Monday and it has been the best week in recent memory. I can think clearly. I can read and not having to go back and re-read and re-read and re-read before giving up in frustration. I feel good for the first time since .. well since I got pregnant with Frankie. Really really good. I feel like I am running my life again. I know that exercise and diet and all sorts of things can "cure" depression. I want to do those things, and I will. But right now, at this stage in my life, I am not willing to wait for me to get it together while I watch my family suffer. Watch my little girls grow colder towards me and distant. Yes, even three year olds can be distant. So, once more I have sacrificed my purist ideals and am on the Rx bandwagon. There is a part of me that feels like I should be embarrassed about being on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs. An obnoxious voice that says I am weak and can't handle everyday things, and that is why I have to take medication. But then I look at what I have done with my girls this week, I feel the wave of patient tenderness that comes over me when they are frustrated. I see them mirror my calm and peaceful manner and I know - this is the right thing to do. Medication is not magic. It doesn't mean that you suddenly become a perfect wife/mother/homemaker. For me it brings out my best qualities and helps to quiet the running voices in my head. The nagging "to do" lists that swirl so constantly in my brain that I am prevented from being able to accomplish a single thing. It helps me be a better me. I am not weak. It takes real strength to ask for help. It just feels so good, to feel good again.