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Archive for September, 2013

It’s been a while..

Since May 2011 actually. How are you? I hope you are all well.

I wanted to pop in and say that I’m still here. I am no longer taking Lamictal though. I was very nearly hospitalized soon after my last post. It got to the point that I just couldn’t do anything anymore. I went to work one day and then went to my psychiatrist and told her I was feeling suicidal. While laying on a couch. That I had not been invited to lay down on. She put me on a stronger anti-depressant coupled with the Lamictal and let me go home only because we did not at the time own any guns. She upped my therapy to multiple times a week with emphasis on calling 911 if I didn’t show up. I went. I begrudgingly went and waded through the swamp.

It took what seemed like forever to get better. And honestly, it took until August of 2012 to be happy again. That’s when I quit my draining, horrible job and the draining people it came with. I started my own business. My marriage got better. My kids were doing great. Everything was awesome. I had weaned off of medication and I was doing fine without it.

Then came the next year and we hit some bumps…I went to my annual “lady” appointment and my gyno expressed great concern over my exam and did a biopsy right then. I had surgery shortly after to remove some suspicious areas from my cervix. It was cancer. But it was very early so removing it and then coming back frequently has been keeping me cancer free. I got off easy but it was still scary.

Then, E swallowed a penny and we had to take him to the emergency room. He had surgery the next morning to remove it. B was staying with my parents while we tried to get some sleep once we brought E home. The next morning, they called me screaming that there had been an accident. My Dad had gotten in his car and did not see B who was underneath it trying to get his ball. He backed out and drug B a few feet before he heard him screaming. The skin on B’s arm and back and shoulder was scraped up really badly. It looked like burns. He had broken his shoulder blade, collar bone and his elbow. He wore a cast and a sling and I had to change his bandages which was incredibly painful. It was a horrible time for us.

Recently, my business has been suffering. I’m trying to have hope but its dwindling. We are putting our house up for sale and moving about an hour away. There, I will try to get it up and running again but if it doesn’t work, I will have to go back to my previous field.

My depression has returned with bulging muscles that deliver heavy blows all over my body. With each new obstacle, a fresh fist of despair hits me. This time feels different. I feel like I do not want help. I feel bloody and beaten. Instead of looking up for the helping hand, I’m just keeping my head on the floor. I am not medicated and we DO own a gun now. K has hidden it because I have expressed the desire to use it.

The only thing that is stopping me from becoming more inventive in my suicidal efforts are my children. What outweighs my desire to end my life is the refusal to in turn end a part of theirs. I cannot inflict that kind of abuse on them.

I don’t know how, but I will pick my head up off of the floor. I will wearily stand and stumble to regain my balance. I will put my fist back up and stare at depression through swollen, black eyes. I will fight back.

Most likely, this will be a fight that returns again and again. I have come to realize that my depression is going to be a life long illness. I can only hope that the people around me don’t give up on me as I stop to get my ass kicked every once in a while.

Here’s hoping.

-B

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