Now that I'm not post-partum I'd like to feel my feelings again, thanks

In my crazy desire to share more about myself than I probably should, I'm going to tell my postpartum story and the subsequent desire to get off all the crazy meds. It's a thriller, I tell ya.

I had two boys within twenty months. I mean, my boys are twenty months apart. I didn't think this was a big deal at all, especially considering I was 35 when I had my second baby and you know, the old cow wasn't gettin' any younger, right?

I don't know if the darkness of depression really settled in after my first son or not. I have a suspicion it did but I was too tired to notice. I had gone back to work six weeks after having him (first mistake) because I was in a new job (oh, wait, that was my first mistake, the maternity leave thing was my second mistake). My new manager was...what's the word?...oh, right, he was an ass.

Our mutual disrespect and dislike of each other didn't make for a healthy or happy working environment, but I had no other choice. My hubs is not supportive of supporting us, so worked I did (and still do although I now have a job I actually love!).

By the time my first son was a year old I was pregnant again.

At first it was fine. Then a few months later when all hell broke loose with my son's personality (you know, the point where your docile baby turns 16 or 18 months old and becomes a CRAZED TODDLER) I thought I must have been insane to sign up for this again so soon, and by then it was too late.

Let's see, then what happened? Oh yeah, I struggled through the pregnancy with a gigantic baby in my belly, a gigantic toddler on my lap, a job I hated with every fiber of my being, and a husband who hated me being pregnant.

By the time my second son was born, I was pretty much shot. Once again, I only had six weeks of maternity leave. This time, I voluntarily went back to work that quickly to run away from home. You see, three weeks after my son was born, my husband decided to gut our master bathroom against my will. I came home from Christmas shopping one day and it was a shell, down to the studs.

Renovation and remodeling is chaotic. I'm usually up for it, but not then. I had enough chaos in my brain and my body and my home and I was pissed about it.

Months passed, maybe four? I don't know. All I know is by April of last year I was an emotional and physical wreck. I was crying all of the time. I dreaded opening my work computer, let alone getting into the car to go do the job every day. I dreaded my phone ringing and hearing my boss's voice. I was losing weight very rapidly (what I wouldn't give for that now) and my milk supply was drying up. I would fall asleep at 10:00 at night, only to wake up at 1:00 and not be able to get back to sleep.

After Griffin was born, we had hired our kooky friend, cleaning lady and quasi-grandma Jean to be the boys' nanny. It wasn't working out, which is another story for another post.

I finally broke.

I called my doctor and begged to be put on medical leave so I could stop working long enough to pull myself together.

I was referred to a psychiatrist (what?! I'm not crazy I'm just depressed! oh, that's what they're for? oh, ok) who helped me a great deal. He finally convinced me in May of last year to start antidepressant therapy and by June I finally was on it. Believe me, I was resistant. I was non-compliant. I tried my best not to do it, but eventually I gave in.

And it helped. I have been taking Lexapro and Wellbutrin since then.

So, the thing is, the drugs help. They really do, or at least they really helped me. But the weird thing is, while I don't have those low low lows anymore, I kind of miss being able to feel sadness a little. Not a LOT, but a little.

I can't cry. I couldn't break down sobbing if I wanted to, and lately I've actually wanted to. Crying can be really cathartic, but I can't do it. I'm like Chandler in the old Friends episode who wanted to cry and tried everything to shed a tear but couldn't?

I'd really like to wean myself off the meds. I may still take the Wellbutrin because I don't have side effects on it like I do on Lexapro. Like weight gain. Remember my constant complaining about how hungry I am and how much I like to eat candy? I think it's the Lexapro. At least, I hope it's the Lexapro.

It's scary, making this decision. I never want to go back to the pain and darkness that was last spring for me. But I want to be able to feel my feelings again. I want to know what it's like to be able to cry over something sad and be elated over something happy. Antidepressants are a godsend for a lot of people (including myself), but they also just made everything Even Steven. I want a few highs and lows again. If the balance gets out of whack, and the lows overtake the highs, I'll start it up again.

I guess nobody ever said life was going to be easy. But it's interesting!

- H