It’s been long time coming. I exercise like a crazy woman, I eat well, I get more sleep than I did for years but I have to face the fact that this PND is not behind me. Or maybe the PND is, but what’s here to stay is the D.
It doesn’t manifest itself in not being able to get out of bed or crying or feeling lost and lonely. In fact in many situations I feel great, especially when I’m exercising (serotonin, hello!) BUT if I look at my life in general – a lot of things annoy me. Just annoy me so much I don’t recognize myself… Everything my mother does. Even some things my husband does (like breathing louder than silently at night). A lot of things my kids do. Even people on the street annoy me for wearing weird clothes or talking too loud on the phone.
This is not normal. I know that. I have felt it before and I’m feeling it more and more again.
Yesterday was Mothers’ Day here in the UK and I didn’t like it. We don’t really celebrate it anyway (because I get to sleep in and wake up to pancakes every Saturday and Sunday morning) but I felt anxious all day and even had a nap during the day because I just wanted a break from my own head.
I realised that don’t like to be reminded that I am a mother. Becoming a mother for the first time was traumatic because our firstborn screamed non-stop for the first year. Becoming a mother for the second time was traumatic because everything went wrong with his birth and every time I think about it I still want to curl up in a corner and rock back and forth. I don’t want people to call me mother. I don’t want that label.
And that is not normal. I know that.
My kids are great. They are fun a lot of the times, they are reasonable most of the time. But most nights I go to bed exhausted and thinking “what’s the point?”.
I don’t lose my temper with them (anymore) but I do raise my voice more often than I want to. And I do nag them more often than I want to.
All in all I think my irritability and constantly being annoyed at every little thing is starting to affect my relationship with my children, with my mother and with my husband.
And I remember how great Citalopram makes me feel. Very quickly. And because of that I really don’t know what to do. I have a feeling that if I go back on Citalopram I will be on it forever. And in part I’ll feel like I failed in this whole “mind over matter” thing.
On the other hand I always tell people who are struggling with depression that it’s a disease just like any other and that there is no shame in taking medication for it if that’s what’s needed.
It doesn’t help though that some people who have been in my shoes tell me that life is NOT supposed to be easy or fun all the time and that the way I’m coping is just fine, is just normal. But I’m not sure. I’m really not sure what is normal anymore. Whether it’s normal not to see the cuteness when I look at little babies but only find them annoying… whether it’s normal to find it irritating to the point of wanting to scream when someone slurps their hot tea in audible distance from you.
So right now I’m confused. I think I need to get over my fear of Citalopram. Just how do I do that – I have no idea.
And it looks like “mind over matter” may have been a mistake in blog name (and in the tattoo on my body) if indeed my mind is forever flawed.