my trip to crazy town.

Any body who is anybody knows that my daughter Emily was made out of sugar that looks like Jim and Mercedes was made out of spice that looks like me. They are the kind of children that you see in old black and white tv shows like 'leave it to beaver' or 'bewitched'. they are cute and funny and wholly adorable, even when they are getting into trouble.

Now they do occasionally have to have time outs and sometimes I do have to remind them who is actually in charge, but I get the "now that’s good parenting" compliment a lot more than I think I deserve. my children are naturally good natured and well behaved and have been an incredible blessing in my life.

I love my children. it is important for everyone to know that because I am going to be perfectly candid in my description of what sort of mother I was during this time period. it is not something I like to talk about because I am ashamed of it and because it is so far removed from the real me. those of you that know me may have a hard time picturing me going through some of these scenarios, but they are true.

Understanding that I had an adrenal problem was my first look into hormonal health. suspecting the hormones from my IUD to be part of it and not wanting anything to get worse, I had it removed. my husband and I now only use barrier methods as a contraceptive, birth control hormones will never touch me again.

By the time we moved to the city my fainting goat spells had mostly resided, but other things came into play. the worst anxiety and depression I have ever had in my life! now remember, my depression was in the "scary, possibly fatal" categories while pregnant. this was not a pretty time for me.....or anyone near me.

It started out slow, I didn’t notice it at first. the move had been stressful and family life had been stressful and my health had been stressful....so it was no surprise to me that I was feeling stress. I had also been grumpy and depresses but it never went away it just got worse.

At first it seemed that it was a really bad, long pms. every month my "pms" got worse and lasted longer. first it was a week of weepiness and grumpiness before my period. then it became a lot of yelling and screaming at everything and depression while eating the entire kitchen two weeks before my period. then it morphed into insomnia, murderous mood swings, headaches, crazy binge eating, no libido and sobbing for no reason for the three weeks before my period. When you get to a point where the only remote sense of sanity happens while your on your period, your condition is no longer just "a bad pms".

It was like my mind was broken. I could logically say to myself "what the hell is wrong with you?" but not be able to control my reactions to normal life. I had to constantly separate myself from the girls so that I didn’t yell at them and spank them over stupid things. their beautiful little happy noises as they would play made me angry, so angry! I would yell and yell. not just the 'hey, you, get off my porch' snapping but the super psycho, in your face 'no more wire hangers!' type yelling. I would scream at my little girl to stop her crying. I couldn’t stop the venom from coming out of me even as I saw it happening. telling my children that I loved them came out in a harsh, angry "I love you!" (how is that for mixed signals?)



My anxiety was so high that I could not sleep. a typical evening went like this: Put the girls to bed at 8:00. I would yell at them (because I was incapable of speaking calmly or nicely) that I loved them and that they really needed to stay in bed (they had a habit of squeezing some more awake time by asking for drinks and by coming into the living room at least twice, each, fore extra hugs and 'I love you's') because I loved them and didn’t want to spank them or yell at them. I would explain to them that I was feeling 'nervous' and that they should leave me alone. I would actually be trembling with anxiety by the time I got to the couch. the only thing that helped me unwind was to binge eat (I’m talking a whole quart of ice cream in one night, on top of dinner and snacks) and watch TV for six straight hours. Jim would come home from work and have the good sense to bypass me completely and go straight to the computer and then to bed. (the few times he didn’t, im afraid I had to rip off his head for disturbing my stress coma) around two or three in the morning I would be tired enough to go to bed and be able to get a fitful sleep.

It may be hard to imagine being that crazy, so let me help you. have you ever been driving down the highway, minding your own business and look up to see a cop's flashing lights in your rearview mirror where it wasn’t before? you know that constricting in the chest of "oh, no, what did I do?!" imagine that all the time, with a sense of forbidding doom, like something bad is going to happen or is just around the corner. lets add some depression to that. not the little 'im bloating so I don’t fit into my skinny jeans anymore' depression (although that was there too) but the 'someone I loved just died' heavy grief depression. I was also growing out of my clothes at an alarming rate. let me tell you, it is a sad, cold, horrible day when you discover that you have gotten too fat to fit into your sweat pants anymore.

Logically, I knew that if I wasn’t able to handle the basics of life, that something was wrong with me. I did a lot of research and tried a lot of different things. First was my tried and true method of diet and exercise. I would scrape energy from the bottom of my reserves to work out and diet. working out used to relief my stress but now it only added to it. when I didn’t see or feel the results I would get depressed and fall off the wagon. after I came out of the sugar and tv coma, I would get back on the horse but it was a vicious cycle. eventually I got to the point where the thought of starting an other diet-exercise plan made me run screaming to the refrigerator.

I came across Alyssa Cohan's book about eating raw. it made a lot of sense to me. the basics of living a "raw lifestyle" is that you eat nothing but uncooked, living, fruits, vegetables, seeds and nuts. this allows your body to detox, build up enzymes an heal your body of anything that may be wrong with it. I am not going to say a lot about it now,(I’ll have a lot to say about it later) but I will say that as I was doing research about it, it felt good. I followed it for several weeks but was unable to maintain it through my anxiety enough to reap the benefits of it. eventually I gave it up.

I tried a slew of herbal remedies and vitamins, non of witch, even if they had worked in the past, even took the edge off for me.

With more research I discovered that I could be suffering from PMDD, premenstrual dysphoric disorder (that is pms that is so bad it interferes with your daily life, I think I could check that box)I know better now, but at the time the only help I could find for that disorder was either birth control or an antidepressant. both I was loathed to consider. I didn’t want to do birth control because even though it was promoted to help women with PMDD, I knew how I was with synthetic hormones. even then I was willing to consider it if it would help with the hell that I was living in but when I read reviews of people using it and the horrifying effects it was having on them, I closed the door on that option for good.

My husband and I talked about getting on an antidepressant. I didn’t want to do it because of my last bad experience with it. I didn’t want to become a zombie, or loose whatever little bits of sexual desire I had left and I sure as heck didn’t want to add more weight gain to my already fat body.

*side tracked moment*
weight gain is a major side affect for most people on most antidepressants. a lot of them say that they would rather be fat and happy than skinny and depressed. personally I have only ever been fat and miserable. I don’t know that I ever really could be completely happy and fat at the same time. for me being fat is what keeps me from doing a lot of the things that make me happy. things like sex or dancing or horseback riding are a lot more fun to do if you are not the size of two (or three) normal people put together. this I know for myself and for a fact. I have often lamented the fact that my condition was the kind that made me fat. if I had to go through this torment why couldn’t it at least be the kind that made me waste away? ultimately I plan to be fit and happy but if I cant shake this mental anguish, I would be willing to give depressed and skinny a try.
*depressing thought over*

The night that I came to the conclusion that the risks of taking and antidepressant outweighed the mental hell I was going through, I cried. I had to finally fess up to the fact that I was not normal. that nothing I was doing was helping. I had to admit to myself that I couldn’t do it on my own and that I literally had to be crazy because I couldn’t cope with normal daily life. they were bitter tears.

Once I admitted to myself that my brain chemicals were wacky and that I was loopy and needed medication, I did my due research to find one that would have the least adverse affects on me in the categories of weight gain and sex drive. with a list of potential meds, I went to my doctor, together we decided on Effexor.

The difference was night and day. the first day I was on it I felt like a new person. I was happy, relaxed. I sat on the couch and flirted with my husband. he was literally shocked that I was coming on to him. for the first time in over a year, when my girls were playing, I smiled and laughed with them. Emily came and gave me a hug. looking at me she said "mommy, you’re not angry anymore." it broke my heart but it warmed it too. I was also glad that I was no longer angry.