But only because you don't see me every day (especially weekends). Or when I'm not on my antidepressants. Or when I can't stand it any more and have to take a nap.
The reality is that I live in pain. I have a headache almost every day. It's probably because of my scoliosis, but since my mother, who doesn't have scoliosis, also has a headache almost every day, I really don't know. I suppose I should figure out why, but I really don't think that will make a difference. I won't take another medication on a daily basis, unless I have a REALLY good reason to. After all, I'm on an antidepressant (medication #1) that raises my blood pressure (medication #2). I have acid reflux (medication #3) and a slight thyroid issue (medication #4). I refuse to take the medication for my high cholesterol (caused by medication #1 and heredity). Migraine meds don't work on me because the headaches seem to be muscular/tension.
So I live in pain. Regardless, I need the antidepressants. I discovered that about 4 months after Janine (now 11.5 yo) was born. I stopped breastfeeding and wham! I was a wreck. I sobbed on the phone when I called my OB. Postpartum? Oh yes, only held off by breastfeeding for a few months. Funny thing was, once I got to the correct dosage of the antidepressants, I realized I should have been on them for years.
So when I got pregnant with Sami, I stopped taking the antidepressants. Didn't go back on them until she stopped nursing. I swear that took FOREVER. She didn't want to take a bottle, regardless of what was in it. Pumped breast milk in a bottle wasn't good enough for her. Honestly, I thought of her as a ball and chain at that point, and oh did that make me feel worse. I wanted to do what was best for her, but I REALLY needed my medication. When she finally took a bottle, I stopped nursing cold turkey (OUCH). Then I went back on antidepressants.
When I got pregnant with Thomas, I again tried to stop the antidepressants. This time it didn't work. I told the OB in the practice (not my regular OB/GYN, and this one is now a "neighbor", but I won't name names) that I had started taking them again because I had to be a decent parent to the 2 kids that I already had. I didn't think plotting my own demise (passively of course, like stopping my car in an intersection) was all that healthy, and it certainly wasn't a good plan for my 2 girls. I haven't been off antidepressants since then.
Trust me when I say that if I weren't taking them, you wouldn't know me. I would be hiding. I fight that most days. I laugh and smile and honestly have a good time when I go out, it's the *getting* out part that I fight. I would rather stay home. I would rather have someone else pick up my kids and/or take them places. I force myself to be social. If you haven't seen me for awhile, well, I am either busy with my kids or I am hiding. So this is why I think Mark is awesome for sticking by me and loving me. I don't know that I could be in his shoes and accept/love someone like me.
I *am* a funny person. I had the funniest grandfather. He was awesome. At the age of 16 (I think) he basically lost his right hand in a cornpicker. The doctor did what he could, but my grandfather had a very mis-shaped hand - almost hoof like. He endured stares and discrimination, and countered it all with humor. Ask my sister or cousins and they will tell you how funny Grandpa Jones was. I don't know if I even have a fraction of his sense of humor, but every time I laugh or joke I think I am honoring him. So yes, you may see me as happy and funny, and I am, but now you know my story.
