There has been so much going on lately and none of it has been blogged by me. I thought I was doing okay taking a reduced dose of my medication. I wasn’t.
The house is a complete mess. I mean Clean Sweep and Hoarders messy. There are paths every which way to get around the things that I was too tired to put away properly. So there they sit in the way of something else I need to put away which doesn’t get put away. It’s a horrible, horrible cycle that just keeps compounding itself.
I brought in totes from outside to put away the Easter decorations at least six weeks ago. They are still sitting in my living-room. Why don’t I just drag them out, because other things have been stacked on top of them of course!
I don’t know what I did over the last month and a half, because I didn’t knit, sew, or read for enjoyment, and I certainly wasn’t cleaning the house. I barely cooked. Frozen pizza saved my life, really.
I swear I don’t like it that way.
I was in a bad downward spiral. Taking one months worth of pills over a month and a half will do that to you.
I had myself convinced that I was fine. I didn’t really need to be on them anymore anyways. It’d been over a year. I could quit. I could be me again. I even cried at the end of The Notebook and the Season One Finale of Glee. I finally had emotions again! See I really could do it. Really.
Boy was I wrong.
I may have been able to cry at the appropriate spots in a movie, but I was also really susceptible to negative comments and feelings of inadequacy. I was easily annoyed by others. I didn’t want to go anywhere, do anything, or be with anyone, but I didn’t want to be by myself either. Oh, and what ever you did, you didn’t want to touch me, anywhere. Even the thought of someone touching me made me irritable and I’m normally a very huggy person. Rapunzel, Shawn, and SuperChic are huggy people, it drove me crazy. Absolutely bonkers.
Of course it didn’t affect just me. It affected everyone else too. Besides the fact that if you didn’t remind me at least six times you probably wouldn’t have a clean PE uniform or shorts the next day. It affected everyone else’s moods too. They were all crabbier and moodier.
Poor Rapunzel didn’t know which way was up most of the time due to our lovely cycles trying to get in sync but not being there quite yet. I PMS for a few days then start. When I’m just about through she starts PMSing. Then just as I get calm, she starts. This cycle lasts about 2 1/2 to 3 weeks, waits about a week and a half and then starts again.
What was even worse was that it was rubbing off on SuperChic. My little girl is growing up so fast. She starts second grade in the Fall and is already asking when she goes back to school. School ended on Friday! What can I say, she really wants to have a certain teacher next year and I want her to have her too.
SuperChic has been struggling all year long with her reading and math. I know some of it is my own fault, I don’t force her to complete her homework and that hinders things, but when she cries and cries that she doesn’t understand it what am I supposed to do? I know that she gets some of the concepts, just not enough of them. She can count on a number line, but if you tell her to count to 11 then add 3 more she goes back to the beginning of the number line. She is still working on the 120 sight words they are supposed to learn in Kindergarten.
The school did an evaluation on her and the most surprising thing to me was that one of the areas of major concern was that she showed many signs of depression. I know that I suffered from depression as a child, but my Dad was physically abusive until I was in 12th grade. SuperChic doesn’t have that problem. We love her dearly and she knows it. When they gave us back the paperwork it showed us all the questions that we answered and broke it down into categories of concern (none, slight, major, or something like that.)
She fell into the highly concerned category. When I take her to the pediatrician, besides getting to the bottom of her constant stomach aches, I’m going to ask about childhood depression and the best way to treat it. Without medicating her.
I’m going to look into both of us going to counseling or a psychologist or psychiatrist or therapist or whoever it is that can help. I know that individual sessions would benefit both of us. I’m hoping that maybe we can do sessions together too. You know, that way she knows that it’s okay to be this way. It may suck majorly, but it’s okay.
Right now we have IEHP for insurance. I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe it will be covered.
My kids don’t deserve this. For them I am willing to bare my soul to a complete stranger and improve my mental health. Which really doesn’t make sense because if you ask me about my childhood, marriage, whatever, I’ll tell you. Bluntly, without hesitation. So I don’t know what it’ll actually do, but I’m willing to try.
Next on the list to repair is my physical health. I’m tired of being fat and I know that I’m the one who has to get off my lazy butt and do something about it.
Speaking of weight Shawn is down 32.8 pounds in 7 weeks. He’s almost to his half way point of 40 pounds! I’m very proud of him for sticking with it and not killing me when I eat a burger and he has to have a salad.
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