Detox

I'm in the middle of detoxing.

Let me be clear: I am not doing a fad diet. 

Oh don't even get me started on that.

I started taking Lexapro the second time about a month before I gave birth to Lottie in July of 2016. I first took this medicine when David was about 3 1/2 months old. I realized I had postpartum depression, and needed some help. It was such a blessing because soon after starting, Phil injured himself and needed to have knee surgery. I was taking care of two small kids, and driving him to and from work until that fall. By that point, I felt comfortable enough to start weaning off of the Lexapro. It worked out so well!

The reason I started taking it before Lottie was born was due more to anxiety than depression. The month she was conceived, I was rear-ended on my way to handbell practice. It's so weird because I had convinced myself I wouldn't be pregnant because the car accident clearly bumped me too hard for the egg to implant. Wow, that's one of the few time in my life I was not fully correct {HAHAHAHAHAHA} Between he pregnancy being vastly different from my previous two, and that memory, I got incredibly anxious about being in the car. I had convinced myself that I was going to be rear-ended again, and this time it would cause more damage to me, the kids, or Lottie. I had a hard time being in the car, and it made me so anxious I would cry every time I had to leave the house. My doctor started me on Lexapro again, and that made it easier for me to leave the house. I stayed on it because of my history with PPD/PPA, and then I was unexpectedly pregnant again. It would have been too hard on Lexie to stop or wean off of it, or so we understood at the time, so I stayed on it through Lexie's pregnancy, and beyond. 

Around the time I was starting to wonder if I could go off of it, my life on a personal level spontaneously combusted. I say that, when really it was just lots of little things, then a few big things, and I was having an incredibly hard time sorting out my feelings about all of it. It involved church trauma, budget issues, feelings of betrayal, hurt, and sadness... it was a lot. With my doctor's advice, I even added a second medication to help with anxiety. 

Then, well, you know...

So fast forward to a few weeks ago. I was feeling a sort of way that made me decide I won't get any better without having counseling on top of this medication. I had a counselor for a while in 2019, but she stopped working to be at home. I still haven't successfully found someone my insurance will cover that is not insanely expensive. It also doesn't help that both my oldest two need counseling as well. I can't justify doing it for me and not them, so I do it for them and not me. {Obviously not the best choice...}

Then the first week of June, I was supposed to have a telehealth appointment to go over my medication. I accidently missed it. Last time, I was late to the appointment, and that was tough enough. Then to miss it? I felt so ashamed and embarrassed, (why is this making me cry typing it out?!), I just didn't say anything and didn't call them back. {I'll have a whole post about this later. I've got a soapbox to mount}  I had 7 days of my prescription left before I needed a doctor authorized refill. With 4 days to go, I forgot to take a dose due to being exhausted. The next night, I could only find one pill and not the other, so I skipped it on purpose. That turned into a full week before I confessed to Phil what had happened. I was given two options: call and ask for a refill and new appointment, or continue to stop taking the medication. 

I chose the latter.

At first, things were okay. Then this past week, I've been having withdrawal symptoms. I'm incredibly dizzy, I had to parent from the porcelain throne most of day Saturday, (when Phil was out of town for a church retreat), and I couldn't even drink regular tap water like I normally do. I had a breakfast sandwich, and two large fruit punch Gatorades to eat on Friday. The toughest day was Saturday, and Phil and I think that might be my peak. We're going to give it another 2 weeks, and will contact the doctor to see about weaning off instead of doing it cold turkey like I did. 

Despite the physical symptoms, I am feeling pretty good emotionally! I'm having periodic moments of joy without any intrusive thoughts. I am able to function again. I cooked dinner AND breakfast in the last 24 hours by myself! The fact that I was able to work outside of the home for a bit this school year was also a big step. 

Now, I am having other side effects. I am still easily angered, and I'm working on my reaction, especially towards my children. I am also crying a LOT easier than before. {That one makes sense though, because I would have times of being mad or upset and wanted to cry but could not.}

I have more to share, and I WANT to share. 

Let me rephrase that: I've always wanted to share, and now I feel ready and able to again. 

I never wanted to be that person that is always complaining about their life; 1) because I don't want to have a fuss over me, and 2) because there are plenty of others in worse places in life, and my problems are figure-out-able {my favorite phrase for my children}.

More to come, but know I'm still here. I've always been physically here, but mentally/emotionally/spiritually, that's a whole 'nother story.

Blessings,