Wednesday, June 14, 2017

when you need help

Things spiraled out of control this weekend.

I couldn't get out of bed. My entire body ached. My mind was racing at all times. I only wanted to sleep. I felt nauseous. I couldn't eat more than a few bites. I weigh ten pounds less than I started last week. Sunday morning I could barely get out of bed. I cried all of church. I cried all evening.

Monday wasn't any better. I somehow dragged myself into work, where I proceeded to cry and be useless. I emailed my OB. I requested a Zoloft refill.

Around lunch I received an alert my meds were ready. My boss graciously let me leave to get them and work from home the rest of the day. Monday night, I felt like me. It was probably placebo, but for the first time I felt free. Like 800 pounds had been lifted off my shoulders. Tuesday, I was a mess when I woke up (although I had stopped crying, which was almost more alarming) and dragged myself into work. Once again, my boss let me work remotely when I could barely hold it together. I worked from my bed, where I remained all day. My mom had to come and help Jon with the kids in the evening because I was desolate. I would get up but felt like I was going to collapse. I also made an appointment with my OB at her urging based on the email I had sent her updating what was happening.

The littlest things overwhelmed me. It's not even something big that caused me to spiral. If I had to guess, it's a combination of things - the underlying PPD obviously contributed. But on Friday I stopped taking the medication that can cause depression but is also supposed to boost my milk supply cold turkey. On Sunday, I stopped breastfeeding because I just couldn't wrap my mind around holding Etta to nurse her. My hormones have probably gone AWOL.

Today I went to the OB with Jon. I cried. My blood pressure was high when I arrived from the anxiety - when I typically hover in the 90/60 range. We talked through the things I had been thinking and feeling and made a mutual decision that I was not an immediate danger to myself, so thankfully I will not have to be admitted (a grave fear I had, and yet another source of anxiety). I am seeing a therapist later today. My medication dose was increased. Blood was drawn to make sure my thyroid is functioning properly. I have FMLA paperwork to take a little time off of work.

The things that caught me most off guard with all of this is how fast the episode came on (and how bad it got in such a short amount of time) and how it comes in waves. I have moments of total peace and clarity where I can think rationally (like Monday night and right now) but then within a few hours I'm back to feeling like the entire world is collapsing around me. Last night I was at my lowest. I felt like I would never surface again. I've never been more afraid that I had lost myself entirely.

I am so grateful for the love and support of those around us. To Jon, for carrying my weight and being the loving encouragement I needed to eat and survive. For loving me relentlessly through this. For our families, for helping with the kids, helping us financially, and giving me the chance to get the treatment I so desperately need. For our friends, who have offered meals and prayers and encouragement and babysitting. To my work, who has told me life is more important than work and to take the time I need to be well. Without this vast support network, I don't know that I would be here to write this update.


  1. I am glad you're getting help. I suffer from depression and even with the medication I still have problems some days.

  2. I wish things were 100 times better for you but I'm glad you are getting whatever help you need and that you have such a wonderful support system. You recognize that and that's really good (keep remembering that and I hope you won't feel as hopeless). I wish I could be of more help to you right now. I'll be able to give you a HUGE hug in person soon! xoxoxo