Returning

Well, I've been slowly tapering off my anti-depressants. I've been taking one every other day, then in about a week or so I'll go every two days. The first day without was awful. I don't know if that was solely because I wasn't taking the pill, or if it was somewhat of a placebo effect (I'm angry because I didn't take a pill, not angry because I'm angry). I was snapping at the kids, getting frustrated over every little thing, and of course angry at Bill.

The next day was a little better, and the next day off was pretty good as well. Today has been on and off with the kids. I was making my son's Halloween costume, and he wasn't holding still, and I got really mad at him and threatened to throw it away and that he couldn't go trick-or-treating. It really wasn't fair of me to do that, because he's so young, and he just is a wiggly little guy anyway. But it bugged me, more than it should have. But I haven't cried yet, and I haven't started throwing things. (I throw things and slam doors when I'm angry. It's never anything breakable, or at anyone.)

Someone in the comments asked why I was going off if they were working well. My doctor assured me that this type was only meant for the short-term. And, to be honest, I don't want to be on anti-depressants. Not that they don't help people out, because obviously I've seen that they've helped me out. But I don't want to have a crutch, per se. My entire family has been on or is still on anti-depressants of some sort, and the minute they don't have their pill they flip out. (Placebo thing, I think.) I don't want that to be me. And so far, I think I'll be okay off soon enough. I don't have so much pride in that if I need the help again I'll not take it, but the simpler my life is, the more my body is controlling itself without outside help, the better for me.

I just remembered: I forgot to take my pill today. I take it as a good sign.

Anti-Depressants

I've been on an anti-depressant for a little while. I didn't want to go on it, but my doctor thought it would be best. It has really helped me out, and I feel normal again. But going in I knew it would be a temporary thing, and now is the time to start tapering it off.

But I'm scared. Now that I'm "normal" again, I'm not sure I can be normal without it. My doctor assured me that the first few days of going every other day with the anti-depressant would be a little off, but then my body would kick in and take over and I'd be back to normal.

I told Bill about it, and I think he's a bit scared as well. He saw how I was before the medication: the crying over everything, the anger towards my children and him, the frustration, the wanting to just lie in bed in the morning and at night. And I remember it all too well, too. I want to feel like this, but without the medication. Will my body be able to do it?

I'll have to keep the pink ladies posted. The day after tomorrow is when I start tapering. Wish me luck.

Retrieved

I took this post from my other blog. I never actually posted it, because I knew the comments I'd get. Or the lack thereof. I had simmered it down a bit (a lot) for that blog. I just wanted to put it here, because...I don't know why, I just did.

This post is going to be very stream of consciousness. And honestly, I don't even know if I'm going to post it, because I'd probably offend a lot of people. You know, all 20 that check out my blog.

It seems like I have my own invisibility cloak. And it seems that I constantly have it on. Because a lot of times I feel like...I'm not even here. That no one notices me. I'm not saying I want to be famous and have paparazzi following me around, because I don't. But just a little recognition. Or maybe some friends would be nice. You know. Someone that would miss me if I died.

Because right now, if I died, I honestly don't think anyone would notice. Or care. The kids would notice when dinner wasn't made for them. And they wouldn't care so much that I'm gone, but the person that gets them the food and changes their butts etc. is gone, and who cares that it's mom? Just as long as it's done, that's what they care about.

And what about my funeral? Who would come? My family, I think. If they could fit it in. If it wasn't too inconvenient. I really couldn't say for Bill's family. Other than that... Like I said, I just...don't matter to anyone. I think the reaction to my death would be, "Huh. Who's gonna take care of the kids now?"

And really, I only have myself to blame. I'm the introvert. Just barely, I've started to get to know people in my neighborhood.

I was way more social in college. I knew everyone in my complex; my roommates and I would throw parties all the time. We would get 10 or so calls on Friday afternoon from other groups of people wondering what we were doing, because people wanted to hang out with us. We'd basically have 20-ish people over every night until all hours. For the first time, I truly felt cool. But then, come to find out, my roommates actually didn't like me at all. I thought we were all really tight, awesome friends, but in reality they could barely tolerate me. It sucked to find that out.

And pre-college...I kind of wandered my whole life from group to group. Not really fitting in anywhere. You know those girls that become friends in 1st grade and are still friends at 70? That's not me at all. I have one friend that's been my friend since I was 14. But we've gone to different schools and lived in different cities since then. So, am I a "she's nice from a distance and all..." kind of person? Perhaps so.

I'm not trying to dis the girls that are my friends. Well, at least the girls I consider friends. But what if it's college all over again, where I really like them, but they don't like me? Where they're just too nice to say, "Uh, leave me alone"?

Back to the whole funeral thing. What would even be said? "Um, she was a mom...and, uh..." I don't even think an adjective could be placed in front of "mom", like "great mom" or "good mom". I'm just kind of an average mom. And right now, not even liking that title all that much. This weekend just...pushed me over the edge. I seriously contemplated grabbing my purse and heading out the door for a couple of days, because I'm so sick of cleaning up messes and dealing with whines and fights amongst the kids and...just all of it. And sick of being ignored by my kids and my husband, and life. I'm the servant. The slave. As long as the house is clean, the meal is cooked, the laundry done, the kids are fed, then that's it. Like I said, invisible.

I'm tired of giving. I don't ever "get" in return. Just a "thanks" or an "I love you" or a hug or something. Or "Why don't you sit down and I'll cook tonight?" or a "Can I watch your kids for a while?" Something where it can be about me for once.

I've become so invisible I don't even see myself. I know I'm somewhere inside of me, screaming to get out and be liked and be noticed. But I'm buried, beneath housework, and children, and my insecurities. So, where am I? What am I doing wrong, where I feel like a slave to my husband, kids, and house? Because I don't think that every mom feels like this.

And then what if I reach out and try to be friends with people, only to find out later that when I leave the party or whatever they roll their eyes and talk about how annoying/boring/awful I am? Basically, I'm friendless, personality-less, and kind of unhappy and disgusted with myself at what I've become, what I've made myself into. And I don't know how to change it, how to like me again, or how to get other people to like me, including my kids and husband.

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms... >:P.